The proportions are upended - depending on your perspective, this has either half the pasta or twice the vegetables of most pasta bakes of this size. What emerges from the oven is savory fall decadence. You won’t be scrubbing pots, as the sum of your dishes to wash will be a cutting board, knife, whisk, grater, and a bowl. But this time is entirely hands-off, save removing the foil midway. That’s the rub it takes a long time to cook. We throw every single ingredient raw into a big bowl for mixing and pour that into a parchment-slung springform (or equivalently-sized pan) pan and bake it for 90 minutes. We do not roast the winter squash or even sauté the greens. Or, in this case, an Ottolenghi recipe from The Guardian I apparently bookmarked over three years ago and forgot about until this stunning image flashed across my screen a few weeks ago and all of my best-laid October plans were kicked to the curb. All attempts to be a responsible sort of person with a plan are consistently jettisoned by a sparkly whim that landed in my head in the last day or two, like a Big Apple Crumb Cake. My favorite thing to cook will always be the last new thing I made. Because I’m not: I like shiny new recipes. I am in awe of people who can make a meal plan, repeating many favorite dishes weekly or several times a year, knowing that they love what they love.
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