Sam got home at 6:10 last Tuesday, dropped his clinic bag by the door, and asked the question that ends most of our weekdays: "Is there a plan?" There was, barely. A package of shelf-stable gnocchi had been sitting in the cabinet since a grocery run in August, there were three sad-but-fine zucchini in the crisper, and the oven was already on because Olive likes to sit in front of it and I like to let her. Twenty-five minutes later we were eating on the couch, and I wrote the whole thing down on the back of an envelope so I could make it again.
This is that recipe, cleaned up a little. It's the meal I make when the weather can't decide if it's summer or fall, when there's still decent produce around but I want something warm and a little crispy.
Why the sheet pan works for gnocchi
I used to boil gnocchi, which is fine, but they come out soft and a bit gluey. Roasting them straight from the package, no boiling, gives you something closer to a tiny roasted potato: golden outside, pillowy inside. The vegetables cook in the same oil and the same heat, so there's one pan to wash. In a galley kitchen where the counter space is roughly the size of a bath mat, that matters more than any other step.
The one trick is space. If everything is piled up, it steams instead of browning. Our half-sheet pan just fits the oven in our building, and for two people it holds everything in a single layer if you cut the vegetables into similar-sized pieces.
Ingredients (serves 2, about $12)
- 1 package (about 1 lb) shelf-stable potato gnocchi, about $3.50
- 1 pint cherry tomatoes, about $3
- 1 medium zucchini or 2 small ones, about $1.25
- Half a red onion, about $0.50
- 3 cloves garlic, smashed, about $0.30
- 2 tablespoons olive oil (from the pantry)
- 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning or oregano, salt and pepper
- 2 links Italian sausage, optional, about $3
- A handful of grated parmesan and a few basil leaves to finish, about $0.75 worth
Without the sausage it's closer to $9 and still filling. When we split groceries, the sausage version comes out to about six dollars a plate, which is less than the delivery fee alone on most nights.
Steps
- Heat the oven to 425°F with a rack in the upper-middle position. Line the pan with parchment if you hate scrubbing.
- Cut the zucchini into half-moons about the thickness of a gnocchi, and slice the onion into wedges. Leave the tomatoes whole.
- If you're using sausage, squeeze it out of the casings in small pinches directly onto the pan.
- Break up any gnocchi that are stuck together. Add them, the vegetables and the garlic to the pan, drizzle with the oil, sprinkle on the seasoning, a big pinch of salt and some pepper, and toss with your hands until everything is shiny.
- Spread it out in one layer. Roast for 10 minutes.
- Pull the pan out, flip things around with a spatula, and roast another 8 to 10 minutes, until the gnocchi are golden in spots and the tomatoes have burst.
- Smash a few of the tomatoes with the back of a fork so their juice makes a loose sauce. Top with parmesan and torn basil, and eat right away.
Notes from a few rounds of testing
What I'd change if you have more time
Ten minutes of preheating is part of the 25. If your oven is slow like ours, put the pan in while it heats so it's already hot when the gnocchi hit it. You'll get better browning on the bottoms.
Swaps that worked
- Bell pepper instead of zucchini: sweeter, a little softer.
- A can of chickpeas, drained and patted dry, instead of sausage. Cheaper, and they get crunchy.
- Frozen broccoli in October and November once the zucchini gets expensive. Thaw and dry it first or it goes limp.
What didn't work
Cauliflower gnocchi. I tried it once because it was on sale, and it melted into something closer to mashed potatoes stuck to parchment. Edible, not pretty. Regular potato gnocchi only for this one.
Leftovers
There usually aren't any. When there are, they reheat best in a dry skillet over medium heat for a few minutes, not the microwave, which makes the gnocchi rubbery. I've eaten them cold at my desk the next day, too, and I'm not going to pretend I regret it.
Olive, for the record, gets nothing from this pan, but she still sits by the oven door the whole time like she's the one who's been waiting all day for dinner.
