Garlic Parmesan New York Pizza Rolls

My strongest belief in the universe — besides the sanctity of good butter and never microwaving pizza (a crime) — is that Garlic Parmesan New York Pizza Rolls deserve a ticker-tape parade. They are buttery, garlicky little cylinders of reckless love. Also: fight me if you think olives belong inside. Two-word verdict: utter bliss.

The time I almost burned Thanksgiving and learned nothing

When I was twenty-seven I tried to make "fancy" pizza rolls for Thanksgiving because I inexplicably thought my cousin’s cranberry sauce needed competition. Disaster ensued: dough stuck, oven protest (smoke alarms singing Martha’s sour note), and the rolls emerged looking like sad, cheesy moons — which my uncle, a man who once deep-fried a pie, called "abstract art." I remember the lemon bars disaster of 2021 (we do not speak of it) and how that sticky, citrus mess taught me humility; this recipe, conversely, is my redemption arc, butter-brushed and gleaming. Also, real talk: if you want to practice rolling without consequences, make plain cinnamon rolls, which — confession — led me to this momentary obsession with roll-forming (and yes, here’s my past love affair with sourdough cinnamon rolls that I still stalk on weekends).

Okay anyway — back to the rolls (before I spiral into pastry therapy)

ANYWAY, before I emotionally relive my entire oven history, let’s pivot: the point of these rolls is not to impress your ex (although it helps) but to deliver concentrated garlicky joy to your face. They are literally pizza in bite-sized, respectable attire — perfect for game day, a chaotic potluck, or a Monday when you deserve something that tastes like a hug. If you are the type who hoards Trader Joe’s everything but the bagel seasoning (me), these will make you feel generous.

What you’ll need (and my mini-rants about shopping)

• 1 pound pizza dough (homemade or store-bought)
• 1 cup marinara sauce
• 1½ cups shredded mozzarella cheese
• ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1 tablespoon Italian seasoning
• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Mini-rants: store-bought dough is a lifesaver on weekdays — no shame — but if you have time, homemade dough is poetry. Trader Joe’s has decent shredded mozzarella and will not judge you for buying the garlic knots. Aldi is a budget miracle if you’re feeding a neighborhood watch of hungry humans. If you want to go fancy, use freshly grated Parm; if you want to go fast, pre-grated will save friendships.

Cooking Unit Converter: quick conversions — because measuring like a boss matters

If you prefer grams or milliliters, toggle here to make everything precise and not guessy.

Technique, explained in a panicked love letter to texture

I will not give you a military-style step list (I tried that once and cried), but here’s what I learned the hard way while making these approximately one hundred times: roll the dough like you’re tucking a sleepy child into bed — gentle, intentional, no violent jerks. You want a rectangle that’s cooperative, about the size to hold your dreams. The marinade of marinara, mozzarella, and Parmesan is a layering thing — more cheese equals more forgiveness. When you brush the garlic-butter, don’t be stingy; the butter is the compass here.

• Start by rolling out your pizza dough into a large rectangle. Aim for about 12×16 inches to ensure you have enough space to layer your toppings.
• Next, evenly spread the marinara sauce over the rolled-out dough. Make sure to leave a small border around the edges to prevent any messy spills during baking.
• Generously sprinkle shredded mozzarella cheese over the marinara sauce, followed by half of the grated Parmesan.
• Carefully roll the dough into a tight log, starting from one of the longer sides. Once rolled, slice it into even pieces, roughly 1-inch thick.
• Place the sliced rolls into a greased baking dish. Make sure they’re arranged snugly but not overly crowded.
• In a bowl, mix melted butter, minced garlic, Italian seasoning, and the remaining Parmesan cheese. Brush this mixture generously over each roll.
• Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C) and bake the rolls for 20-25 minutes, or until they turn golden brown and the cheese is bubbly.
• Remove the rolls from the oven, garnish with fresh parsley, and serve warm. Enjoy the cheesy, garlicky goodness!

Also: I secretly tested a version with mushroom-stuffed chicken for a very dramatic dinner evening (it went well, surprisingly), which reminded me that umami plays well with garlic — see how I got dangerous and delicious with a stuffed chicken twist for inspiration.

Why I care so much about cooking (yes, it’s emotional)

Cooking for me is where memory hides: the scent of garlic takes me back to my first awkward apartment in the Midwest, where I burned a skillet and then learned to laugh and order pizza and try again. It’s how we mark holidays without being creepy, how we say "I love you" in butter and heat. Tradition isn’t just recipes — it’s the messy, beautiful attempt to make something that feels like home.

Micro-anecdote: the neighbor who stole my roll (and it was fine)

One time I left a pan of these on the porch for a neighbor during a snowstorm and when I returned, one roll was missing and a note said, "It was sacrilegious not to eat one." I forgave them instantly. Also, I now hide the last roll. Survival instinct.

Frequently Asked Questions: chaotic but useful answers

Okay, I’ll stop monologuing like a one-woman cooking show. Make these, be loud about them at your next gathering, and if someone asks for the recipe, smile mysteriously and hand them one — life lesson: never let anyone eat a pizza roll without butter on top.