Start at the Very Beginning

Plus ten points if you sang the title of this post in your head.

A long time ago, my mom suggested that I make manicotti. I didn't have much cooking experience at the time, but clueless as to what I was getting myself into, I agreed.  We went to Kroger and bought the box of pasta. Since we aren't Italian and don't have a family recipe, we read the ingredients and procedures list from the back of the blue Barilla box.

After unloading the groceries from the back of the car, my mom gave me the ingredients and told me to have at it.  I remember reading the instructions, boiling the pasta, mixing the cheeses, putting them into a large plastic bag with a hole cut in the corner, and layering each and every piece.  It probably took me two hours at least to finish, and the end result was much closer to lasagna than manicotti.  I overcooked my pasta, and they split down the middle.  I remember it was delicious.

I read this blog post about manicotti and the comforting effect that it has on the author. I was feeling nostalgic, so I decided I needed to make some for myself.  Like old times, it took way longer than it should have to finish it up, and my pasta ripped.  I don't really care though.  It makes me think of times gone past--where my love for food started to first develop.

My heart is so full right now.

Recipe from Yummy Books.

I cheated and used frozen spinach and jarred marinara.  It turns out wonderfully either way.