vodka sauce stuffed shells

childhood dreams do come true

Feb 23, 2024

∙ Paid

Penne alla vodka is, I’ve heard, America’s fourth most-loved pasta dish, hot on the heels of spaghetti and meatballs, baked ziti, and mac and cheese. Although a modern phenomenon, the dish’s origins are somewhat mysterious: It was, perhaps, invented in New York by Orsini Restaurant’s chef Luigi Franzese in the ‘70s, or maybe by James Doty, a graduate of Columbia University, in the ‘80s. Or, despite its status as Italian-American royalty, it might actually have been created in the motherland, either in Bologna at a restaurant called Dante or in Rome by a chef working to popularize vodka in a country far more interested in wine. But wherever and whenever it’s from, I’d wager we can all agree that penne alla vodka is very, very delicious.

My first encounter with this now-household dish was when I was about eight, at Carmine’s on the Upper West Side of New York City. Carmine’s is a pasta-lover’s paradise, a labyrinth of white tablecloths, New York accents, and enormous, family-style platters of spaghetti, ravioli, lasagna, and rigatoni. It’s a classic red sauce joint that leaves you full, happy, and smelling of garlic—and, even 25 years later, no trip to Carmine’s is complete without penne all vodka.

Of course, penne might be the original and most common pasta of choice for this creamy tomato sauce, but the pleasure of vodka sauce knows no bounds. Rigatoni, fusilli, and ravioli are all regular vodka sauce accompaniments, and I’ve even seen it ladled between sheets of lasagne. Which got me thinking: To close out our little winter baked pasta series, why not end the way we began—with something entirely untraditional—and combine vodka sauce with another childhood favorite, stuffed shells?

Baked and bubbling stuffed shells (conchiglioni ripieni) are particularly beloved in Italy’s south, hailing from Campania. (Campania is a hub of pasta production, particularly the town of Gragnano, largely considered the birthplace of dried pasta—I talk a bit about it here.) Conchiglioni are sometimes filled with meat, and often with vegetables and cheese, particularly spinach and ricotta, before being drenched in tomato sauce or béchamel or both. Today’s recipe is none and all of those things: The filling is reminiscent of the typical spinach-ricotta combination, but made richer and heartier—not to mention protein-packed—with kale, white beans, and vegetarian sausage; the sauce tomatoey and creamy all at once.

Stuffed shells are typically served as a first course for Sunday lunch, or reserved for special occasions. But of all the baked pasta dishes we’ve made so far, they’re without question the simplest and the quickest: just involved enough to warrant “special” status, but not so much work that you couldn’t whip them up on a weekly basis. With March on the horizon, this dish is a bridge of sorts, perfect for this in-between time of year, when we’re all a little tired of winter’s braises and stews, but not quite in the throes of spring.

A couple of notes before we jump in:

This recipe calls for vegetarian sausage, an ingredient I used often during the decade I didn’t eat meat, and one I still enjoy now. I call for it here instead of meat sausage both because it’s good, and because I follow kosher dietary laws, which forbid eating dairy and meat products together. Of course, feel free to use your favorite sweet Italian sausage instead. If you do opt for the vegetarian stuff, I recommend Beyond Meat products, particularly their new sweet Italian variety, because it crumbles easily and browns well, not to mention the texture is pretty darn close to the real thing.
Vodka sauce isn’t vodka sauce without the vodka, but you can certainly omit the alcohol if you’d like. There’s plenty of discussion about why the vodka makes the sauce taste better (you can read some of it here), but it’ll still hit the spot without it.

And don’t miss the other recipes in this winter’s baked pasta series: