Feeding yourself off campus for the first time is a lot like eating a Warhead (which, ironically, is a lot like going through the stages of grieving).
First, there's denial.
You hold that Warhead in your hand, chuckle at the silly cartoon man on the front and let the image of you, straight-faced and unaffected, dance in your mind as you pop the candy into your mouth. You say, "I'm bigger than this Warhead. I can handle this." Right, chief.
Second comes anger.
Your saliva glands burst in protest as the sour taste coats every part of your mouth. Some shout or throw things at this point. My brother has been known to give noogies in response to the Warhead's vicious lash.
Third is bargaining.
I also like to call this stage "begging." Surrounded by a gaggle of laughing friends, you beg for relief from this self-inflicted pain. You wonder, "Why didn't I just go with the Snickers?" Your friends are happy you didn't.
The following stage is depression.
This is the stage where your tongue is just too tired to fight back and your brain is unable to come up with any probable reason why your hands would have put this horrid candy in your mouth in the first place.
But, just as you slide into the final stage of acceptance, the Warhead rewards you with a sweet wave that washes over your yearning taste buds. Being separated from the safety of your always-there, fully prepared dorm food can be a tricky situation -- no matter how much you're looking forward to moving from Harshman to Scott Hamilton. One way to go through the off-campus grieving cycle faster is to be armed with a culinary backup plan. It's a lot harder to miss the odd snoring of a roommate who's five feet from you when you have a full stomach.
Total time: 25 min
Makes: 4-6 servings
Ingredients:
1 lb small shell pasta
2 tbsp olive oil
3 large cloves of garlic (minced if you want)
1/2 small onion
28 oz crushed Italian tomatoes
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves (torn in small pieces)
1 cup basil pesto sauce
1 cup ricotta cheese
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt the water. Add small shell pasta and cook for about nine or 10 minutes. The pasta will be a little chewy. The pasta will soak up more juice and keep on cooking after we drain it, so we need it to be a little under cooked.
2. Preheat a deep, big skillet or a medium saucepot over medium heat. Oil up the pot and add the onion and garlic.
3. Cook, stirring a lot, for about five minutes or until the onions are mushy and look yellowish-clear. Add the tomatoes and stir. When the tomatoes come to a bubble, reduce the heat under the sauce to low. Stir in basil pieces to make them wilty. Season the sauce with salt and pepper, to your taste.
4. Preheat your broiler to high.
5. Drain your pasta shells and add them to a casserole dish with pesto sauce, the ricotta cheese and a handful of grated Parmigiano.
6. Pour the hot tomato and basil sauce over the pasta. Pour as much as you like.
7. Sprinkle mozzarella cheese over the pasta. You can add a final sprinkle of Parmigiano to the mozzarella as well.
8. Place the casserole under the broiler in the middle of the oven until the cheese melts and bubbles on top. It will be all ready to go in three to five minutes.
First, there's denial.
You hold that Warhead in your hand, chuckle at the silly cartoon man on the front and let the image of you, straight-faced and unaffected, dance in your mind as you pop the candy into your mouth. You say, "I'm bigger than this Warhead. I can handle this." Right, chief.
Second comes anger.
Your saliva glands burst in protest as the sour taste coats every part of your mouth. Some shout or throw things at this point. My brother has been known to give noogies in response to the Warhead's vicious lash.
Third is bargaining.
I also like to call this stage "begging." Surrounded by a gaggle of laughing friends, you beg for relief from this self-inflicted pain. You wonder, "Why didn't I just go with the Snickers?" Your friends are happy you didn't.
The following stage is depression.
This is the stage where your tongue is just too tired to fight back and your brain is unable to come up with any probable reason why your hands would have put this horrid candy in your mouth in the first place.
But, just as you slide into the final stage of acceptance, the Warhead rewards you with a sweet wave that washes over your yearning taste buds. Being separated from the safety of your always-there, fully prepared dorm food can be a tricky situation -- no matter how much you're looking forward to moving from Harshman to Scott Hamilton. One way to go through the off-campus grieving cycle faster is to be armed with a culinary backup plan. It's a lot harder to miss the odd snoring of a roommate who's five feet from you when you have a full stomach.
Total time: 25 min
Makes: 4-6 servings
Ingredients:
1 lb small shell pasta
2 tbsp olive oil
3 large cloves of garlic (minced if you want)
1/2 small onion
28 oz crushed Italian tomatoes
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves (torn in small pieces)
1 cup basil pesto sauce
1 cup ricotta cheese
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt the water. Add small shell pasta and cook for about nine or 10 minutes. The pasta will be a little chewy. The pasta will soak up more juice and keep on cooking after we drain it, so we need it to be a little under cooked.
2. Preheat a deep, big skillet or a medium saucepot over medium heat. Oil up the pot and add the onion and garlic.
3. Cook, stirring a lot, for about five minutes or until the onions are mushy and look yellowish-clear. Add the tomatoes and stir. When the tomatoes come to a bubble, reduce the heat under the sauce to low. Stir in basil pieces to make them wilty. Season the sauce with salt and pepper, to your taste.
4. Preheat your broiler to high.
5. Drain your pasta shells and add them to a casserole dish with pesto sauce, the ricotta cheese and a handful of grated Parmigiano.
6. Pour the hot tomato and basil sauce over the pasta. Pour as much as you like.
7. Sprinkle mozzarella cheese over the pasta. You can add a final sprinkle of Parmigiano to the mozzarella as well.
8. Place the casserole under the broiler in the middle of the oven until the cheese melts and bubbles on top. It will be all ready to go in three to five minutes.
Anonymous comments are always moderated, please sign in and join the discussion. 
Oh, I'll try that recipe after my written essay is done