Spinach Artichoke Stuffed Shells

Still dreary in Chicago. I'm ready for caprese and grilled goodness, but the rain is keeping the sunshine away. Even the dog is over it. Making the most of these last cool days and hoping it's the last time I'll crank up the oven until after Labor Day. This false hope may just be the Missouri girl in me, thinking spring should be 80 degrees and full of red buds. Hopeful led to hearty this Sunday with stuffed shells, chock full of lean turkey, spinach and artichokes. Recipe inspiration from Giada, but gave it my own groove (and showed less cleavage than she does).


Marinara was called for. Nothing beats the real thing. I started with my mise. 

The goods. Onions, garlic, celery, carrots, tomatoes, olive oil, red wine, S&P, bay leaves and chili flake. 

The chili flake makes this. The need for heat. 

Don't forget the wine. Layers of Montelpuciano flavor. 

Now for your filling. Ground turkey, artichoke, fat free ricotta, parm, two eggs, garlic, basil, spinach and onion. 

Artichokes somehow look alien and artful at the same time. My husband may love them more than me. 

I browned my turkey with onion and garlic, added the artichokes and spinach in the last two minutes. Let it cool. Patience chickadee.

Combine your ricotta, egg, parm and basil. 

 Smoosh it all together. Make sure your turkey is cooled. 

Marinara on the bottom of your pan. 

Stuff your cooked pasta shells with the turkey cheese mixture. It will be messy and somehow soothing. 

Arrange however you think is pretty. Don't take photos of the shells that you overstuffed and cracked. Focus on the good ones. They'll all taste wonderful. 

Top with sauce and shredded mozzarella. Think about old timey casseroles and potentially fool yourself that you made lasagna, just for a minute. 

Wait in anticipation and chop some basil to distract yourself. Hmmm...what kind of cocktails would this be good in? Wonder how on earth you skipped a mint julep on Derby Day. Seriously, how did you miss that? Bring it back... pasta is almost done. 

Melty and bubbly. Officially hungry. 

 All up in the kitchen in my heels... dinnertime. Thanks Beyonce.