Mexican Manicotti

Playoffs, 2030. We won the quarterfinals 35-14. The semifinals are next week against a program from the mountains — Grand Junction, which has been building steadily for three years and which has a quarterback who can make all the throws. Williams has been in the film room every night. I've been in there with him. The shorthand between us is now almost nonverbal — we watch film and the adjustments happen in real time, two coaches who have been doing this together for eleven years making decisions in the same language.

Marco had 162 yards in the quarterfinals. His first playoff run. He carries himself the way Diego carried himself in his first playoff — with the composure of someone who has been in this building long enough to know what the moment requires. He requires nothing from me here. He requires the same thing every player requires: the standard clearly set, the conditions created, the space to perform. He's performing. I set the standard. The space belongs to him.

Spoke with Mom on Sunday. She's doing well — better than last winter. She's been cooking more, which she says is because the neighbor's daughter has been coming over for lessons, which I find deeply moving: my seventy-one-year-old mother teaching her neighbor's daughter to make calabacitas from memory. The knowledge keeps going forward. Every person she teaches is another person who will know what the right cumin ratio is, long after neither of us are here to say it.

Tamales are on the agenda for after the season. I've started buying the masa and the pork ahead of time. The calendar turns toward December and the kitchen turns toward the cold and the tamales and the people gathered around them.

The tamales are coming — the masa is already bought, the pork is waiting — but the season isn’t over yet, and the hunger for something warm and deeply familiar doesn’t wait for the calendar. Hearing Mom talk about teaching her neighbor’s daughter to cook, about the knowledge going forward, made me want to be in a kitchen making something that carries that same spirit: bold seasoning, a dish built for people gathered around a table. Mexican Manicotti is what the week called for — it isn’t tamales, but it comes from the same place inside me, the place that knows food is how the things that matter get passed on.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 package (8 oz) manicotti shells
1 lb ground beef (85% lean)
1 can (15 oz) refried beans
1 can (10 oz) red enchilada sauce
1 cup shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
2 tablespoons taco seasoning
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon onion powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
1/3 cup sour cream, for serving
3 green onions, sliced, for garnish
1/4 cup sliced black olives (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with cooking spray.
Cook the pasta. Boil manicotti shells in salted water according to package directions until just al dente, about 7–8 minutes. Drain, rinse gently with cool water, and lay flat on a lightly oiled baking sheet to prevent sticking.
Brown the beef. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook ground beef, breaking it apart, until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat. Stir in taco seasoning, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, and a pinch of salt and pepper.
Mix the filling. Remove the skillet from heat. Stir the refried beans into the seasoned beef until fully combined and the mixture is thick enough to hold its shape when scooped.
Stuff the shells. Spoon or pipe the beef and bean filling into each manicotti shell, working carefully from both ends to fill them evenly.
Assemble the dish. Pour half the enchilada sauce across the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Arrange stuffed shells in a single layer over the sauce. Pour the remaining enchilada sauce evenly over the top. Sprinkle 3/4 cup of the shredded cheese over everything.
Bake covered. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 35 minutes, until the shells are fully tender and the sauce is bubbling at the edges.
Finish uncovered. Remove foil, sprinkle remaining 1/4 cup cheese over the top, and bake uncovered for an additional 8–10 minutes until cheese is melted and lightly golden.
Rest and garnish. Let the dish rest for 5 minutes before serving. Top with dollops of sour cream, sliced green onions, and black olives if using.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Manicotti — When the Season Ends and the Kitchen Begins