Baked Ramen Ziti
Look, I'm not saying this is what some Italian grandmother had in mind when she invented baked ziti, but sometimes the best ideas come from complete accidents. Picture this: it's Tuesday night, you're staring at a box of ramen and some leftover marinara, and suddenly you think, "What if I just threw all this in a casserole dish and called it dinner?" The ricotta gets all melty and custard-like, the ramen noodles turn into these weird, wonderful pasta shapes that hold onto sauce like they were born for it, and those crispy edges? Pure gold. It's the kind of comfort food that makes you forget you're eating what's technically college dorm ingredients dressed up for Sunday dinner. Who needs authenticity when you've got bubbling cheese and zero shame?
Oven breathes out gold—Edges crack with cheesy dusk—Family forks collide
Let Me Tell You...
This recipe was born out of pure desperation and a complete lack of proper pasta in my kitchen.
I was supposed to make baked ziti for a potluck dinner, and I'd already promised everyone I'd bring something homemade and delicious.
The problem was, I'd completely forgotten about it until about two hours before I had to leave, and when I checked my pantry, all I had were some ramen bricks, leftover marinara sauce, and a container of ricotta that was dangerously close to its expiration date.
Most people would have just stopped at the store, but I was already running late and wearing sweatpants, so I decided to commit to this ridiculous experiment and see what happened.
I started by breaking the ramen bricks into irregular pieces, figuring if I was going to fake it, I might as well make it look somewhat legitimate.
I cooked them just until they were softened but not mushy, because nobody wants soggy casserole noodles.
While they were cooking, I browned some Italian sausage with onions and garlic, creating this incredible aromatic base that made my kitchen smell like an actual Italian restaurant instead of a college dorm room.
I mixed in the marinara sauce with some herbs and let it simmer, and honestly, it was starting to smell so good that I forgot I was basically making fancy ramen.
The ricotta mixture was where things got interesting.
I mixed it with beaten egg, half the mozzarella, some Parmesan, and fresh herbs, creating this creamy, rich mixture that would bind everything together and turn into something almost custard-like in the oven.
I layered everything in a baking dish—ramen, meat sauce, ricotta mixture, more ramen, more sauce—like I was building some kind of carbohydrate lasagna.
The whole thing looked completely ridiculous, but it also looked kind of amazing, like something you'd see on a food blog titled "Broke College Student Hacks."
I topped it with the remaining cheese and slid it into a 375-degree oven, crossing my fingers that it wouldn't be a complete disaster.
The smell that came out of that oven was incredible—bubbling cheese, caramelized meat, and all those Italian herbs mingling together in this aromatic cloud that made me think I might actually pull this off.
When I brought it to the potluck, people kept asking for the recipe, and I had to decide whether to tell them the truth or let them think I was some kind of culinary genius.
I went with genius, obviously, because sometimes the best dishes come from desperation and a willingness to break all the rules.
It turns out ramen makes a pretty decent pasta substitute when you're too lazy to go to the store and too proud to admit you forgot about dinner until the last minute.
Ingredients
- 4 bricks dried ramen noodles (discard seasoning packets)
- 2 cups marinara sauce (homemade or good quality jarred)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional, for heat)
- 1/2 pound Italian sausage, casing removed (or use ground beef or turkey)
- 1/2 cup ricotta cheese
- 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon dried basil
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt (plus more for pasta water)
- 1 large egg, lightly beaten
- 2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley or basil (for mixing in)
- Olive oil spray or extra oil for greasing
Preparation
- Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C). Grease a 2-quart or 8x8-inch baking dish with olive oil or nonstick spray.
- Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add ramen bricks and cook for 2–3 minutes until just softened (not mushy). Drain, toss lightly with a drizzle of olive oil to prevent sticking, and set aside.
- Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add diced onion and cook for 3–4 minutes, until translucent. Add garlic and red pepper flakes; cook for 1 minute. Add sausage (or other ground meat), breaking it up as it browns, and cook until fully cooked through, about 5–7 minutes. Stir in marinara sauce, oregano, basil, black pepper, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Simmer for 5 minutes to meld flavors. Remove from heat.
- In a bowl, combine ricotta, half of the mozzarella (1/2 cup), half the Parmesan (1/4 cup), beaten egg, and chopped fresh herbs. Mix until combined.
- Layer half the cooked ramen in the bottom of the baking dish. Spoon half the meat sauce evenly over noodles. Dollop and gently spread all of the ricotta cheese mixture over sauce. Add remaining noodles, then top with the rest of the meat sauce.
- Sprinkle the top with remaining mozzarella and Parmesan. Cover loosely with foil (grease underside if needed) and bake for 15 minutes. Uncover and bake another 10–15 minutes until bubbling and golden brown. For a browned top, broil for 2 minutes at the end.
- Let cool for 10 minutes before slicing. Garnish with extra chopped herbs if desired.