In 1924, chef Salvatore Coletta of the Hotel Cappuccini in Amalfi presented a dish he called “cannelloni” to Andrea Barbaro. Barbaro, a known gourmand, owned the neighboring Hotel Luna and, according to a long-standing agreement between the two grand hotels, was one of the first to taste the dish. Coletta’s cannelloni consisted of fresh pasta tubes filled with meat, ricotta, Parmigiano-Reggiano, fior di latte mozzarella, and béchamel, baked until bubbling in a tomato sauce. Barbaro took one bite, stood up from his chair, and ordered the local church to ring their bells in celebration, for here was the birth of something truly exceptional. Or so the story goes, according to the 1987 book Nascita dei cannelloni ad Amalfi (“The birth of cannelloni in Amalfi”) by Gaetano Afeltra.
Of course, as with most culinary and pasta history, there are several possible origins of cannelloni. The first written record of a cannelloni-adjacent dish was not in the 1980s but the 18th century, by a Neapolitan cook named Vincenzo Corrado in his book Il cuoco galante (“The gallant cook”). Corrado, who was a 1770s celebrity chef, mentions a recipe for maccheroni ripieni, boiled pasta tubes stuffed with meat and truffles, covered with meat sauce, and baked. The actual term cannelloni (meaning “big tubes,” by the way) first appeared in the 19th century, in a recipe called “a timballo of cannelloni” by Tuscan cook Gio Batta Magi. Still, it wasn’t until after World War II that cannelloni as we know them today took hold in Italy.
It is precisely this newness that, I think, makes cannelloni so exciting. They are not tethered to one particular tradition, and so cannelloni creativity has—and continues to—flourish. Regional versions of cannelloni abound: in Campania, they’re stuffed with cheese and meat (or anchovies), or prepared alla Sorrentina with ricotta, mozzarella, Parmigiano, and tomato sauce; in Piedmont, they’re filled with pork and spinach; in Lazio, with a rich meat ragù, both inside and out; in Emilia-Romagna, with Bolognese ragù, or sausage ragù, tomato sauce, and/or béchamel; in Sicily, with zucchini; in Abruzzo, with pork, beef, and lamb, then covered either in butter and cinnamon or tomato sauce. (Cannelloni are even popular in Spain.) And we can’t forget the ubiquitous spinach and ricotta cannelloni, baked in tomato sauce or béchamel, or both. Whatever the local variation, it’s commonplace to enjoy them as a first course during Sunday lunch, holidays, or other special occasions.
I’m not afraid to admit this is my first time making cannelloni. Lasagne and I are old friends; stuffed shells (conchiglioni) have been an easy favorite since childhood. It’s likely, at least in part, because cannelloni aren’t as widespread in the U.S. as manicotti, ridged dried pasta “sleeves” that are core to Italian American cuisine. You won’t find manicotti in Italy, but you can find dried cannelloni (always smooth, never ridged) even though it’s more typical to make them with fresh pasta. Regardless, I’m grateful that I didn’t put off making cannelloni from scratch any longer because they are delicious. Not quite as quick as conchiglioni, but somehow less chaotic than lasagne. And, like last year’s recipe for spinach and cheese rotolo, many of the components can be prepared in advance to make the experience far more relaxed and enjoyable.
Instead of taking inspiration from the myriad Italian iterations, the filling for these cannelloni is based, instead, on a very-American guilty pleasure of mine: spinach artichoke dip. It’s rich and creamy, while also hanging on to the vegetal notes of the spinach and briny tang of the artichokes. The pasta itself is infused with spinach, too, because if we’re already making a project of this, why not go the extra mile? (You can certainly make these with a standard egg dough instead, but the green pasta is a real show-stopper.) A blanket of béchamel spiked with lemon zest and nutmeg, plus a heavy handful of mozzarella, all baked until golden, make this a clear centerpiece of any winter table.
Spinach & Artichoke Cannelloni
Makes 12 cannelloni, serving 4 to 6