Alright, so here’s the thing: Crab-Stuffed Manicotti wasn’t a dish I grew up eating (heck, I barely knew what manicotti was until my twenties), but now it’s my go-to when I want to impress the in-laws or just when I need to treat myself after a Monday gone sideways. The first time I made it, I accidentally used imitation crab and thought it was ruined, but my husband still raved about it, so—silver lining? Proves there’s more than one way to skin this cat—or should I say, stuff this pasta!

Why You’ll Love This (Even If You’re a Little Skeptical)

I make this when I want dinner to feel a little fancy without lighting my hair on fire. My nephew requests it for his birthday every year (and he wouldn’t eat actual crab if you paid him). It’s ridiculously creamy, a bit rich, and honestly forgiving, even when you’re out of the ‘right’ cheese. Once, I tried skipping the sauce and—wow, never again. It ended up weirdly dry (don’t do that). So, you get flavor, you get a cheese pull worthy of a pizza ad, and you get enough leftovers for a midnight fridge raid. What’s not to love?

Grab These Ingredients (Substitute Freely)

8 manicotti pasta tubes (or, if you run out, shells or even lasagne sheets rolled up work too—trust me, I’ve tried in a pinch)
250g (about 1/2 lb) real crab meat (canned is fine; my grandma swore by Phillips, but really, any you can find is decent here. Imitation crab honestly works for this too.)
1 cup ricotta cheese (I sometimes use cottage cheese if that’s all that’s left in the fridge—it makes it less creamy but still lush)
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese (or Monterey Jack if you want a little twist)
1/4 cup grated parmesan (or that green can stuff, if you’re feeling wild—it’s fine, really)
1 egg (medium or large doesn’t seem to make a massive difference)
2 cloves garlic, minced (I’m lazy and use the jarred stuff sometimes—shh)
2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley (or a teaspoon dried; fresh is prettier, dried is easier)
Pinch of salt and black pepper (to taste)
2 cups favorite marinara sauce (I use Rao’s if I want to feel flush, but store-brand is a-okay)
Olive oil (just a glug, for the pan)

How I Get It On the Table (With a Few Guilty Pleasures)

First, boil your manicotti tubes in a big pot of salted water until al dente — but actually, don’t cook them all the way to soft; otherwise, they fall apart like my willpower near a donut. Once they’re barely tender, drain and set aside. They’ll finish cooking in the oven.
Meanwhile, grab a big bowl. Actually, scratch that—grab the second biggest bowl, because you don’t want ricotta flying everywhere later (yes, that happened to me). Mix together your crab, ricotta, mozzarella, parmesan, egg, garlic, parsley, salt, and pepper. This is when I usually sneak a taste—and sometimes go a bit wild with the parmesan.
Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Pour about half your marinara sauce into a baking dish. I like the old 9×13-inch glass one, but I imagine metal works just as well (I’m not precious about it).
Now for the slightly tedious part: stuff each manicotti tube with the crab mixture. I’ve used everything from zip-top bags with the corner cut off (like a janky pastry bag) to skinny spoons, and both can work. Don’t worry if some rips—just squidge it closed as best you can. I promise it’ll bake up pretty.
Arrange Stuffed tubes in your saucy dish, then pour the rest of the marinara over top. Sprinkle with a bit more mozzarella if you’re feeling extra.
Cover with foil (otherwise the pasta gets crispy—learn form my mistake) and bake for about 30 minutes. Take off the foil and bake another 10-15 so it gets bubbly and golden. If it doesn’t bubble, it probably needs a few more minutes—or maybe your oven runs cold like mine in winter.
Let it sit a minute or two, for the love of Pete, so you don’t burn the roof of your mouth.

Notes From My Semi-Organized Kitchen

If the filling feels too runny, add a bit more cheese, or even a sprinkle of breadcrumbs. I once used panko and it was oddly fancy.
I find rinsing the pasta in cold water after boiling makes them easier to handle, but then again, some folks swear by just handling them hot. I’m not that brave.
Imitation crab doesn’t taste quite as sweet, but works especially well if you’re budget-watching.

If You Want to Mix It Up

Once, I swapped half the crab for cooked shrimp and it was—surprisingly—not bad, though I wouldn’t call it traditional.
Adding spinach to the filling makes these taste ‘healthy,’ at least in theory.
I attempted to use a spicy arrabbiata sauce one time, but it really blew out the delicate crab flavor. Wouldn’t recommend unless you like spicy, then go on ahead.

Equipment (But Don’t Sweat It If You’re Missing Stuff)

Baking dish (I keep using the same glass one, but you could use metal—won’t break my heart)
Large mixing bowl (used for everything, let’s be honest)
Medium saucepan for the pasta (although I sometimes use my Dutch oven when my pans are dirty)
Spoon or piping bag (bag makes it tidier, but hands do the job too if you don’t mind getting a bit messy)
Aluminum foil (unless you like crispy-chewy pasta, I suppose…)

How to Store (but who are we kidding?)

Technically, you can store leftovers covered in the fridge for up to 3 days. I don’t think we’ve ever managed more than one day in our house. Reheats fine in the oven or microwave; I think it actually tastes better the next afternoon, kind of like lasagna magic. Freezes—well, in theory it does, but the texture can go a bit grainy. Here’s a general rundown: more on storing leftovers.

What We Eat It With (And My Slight Garlic Bread Obsession)

I like this with a huge, messy kale Caesar salad and, honestly, one too many slices of buttery garlic bread (that’s how my dad did it growing up, so now it just feels right). Sometimes, for special occasions, I’ll pop open a bottle of crisp white wine, like a sauvignon blanc, because it cuts through the richness so perfectly. Check out this wine pairing guide if you wanna get fancy.

If I Could Go Back: Pro Tips Learned the Hard Way

I once tried to rush the stuffing process with a fork—nope, ended up with a tablecloth disaster. Piping bag or small spoon is your best bet.
Letting the dish rest about 5 minutes after baking saves you from scalding cheese strings.
Skimping on sauce = dry manicotti. Seriously, just drench it. You won’t regret it.

People Actually Ask Me…

Can I use gluten-free pasta? — Yeah, you can! Just be a bit gentle, gluten-free stuff can fall apart like a house of cards. But if that’s what you need, go for it. There’s a handy guide here.
What if I don’t eat seafood? — You could try cooked, shredded chicken instead of crab. It’s a whole different animal (literally!), but hey, it works.
Why’s my filling leaking out? — Honestly, no one’s manicotti is perfectly neat. Maybe pack the ends a bit more, or just embrace the ooze. It’ll still taste fab.
Do I have to use ricotta? — Nope! See above, cottage cheese totally works. Makes it a bit tangier though. Depends what you’re into, I guess.
Can I prep ahead? — Yeah, you can stuff the pasta and stick it in the fridge (covered) for a day before baking. Helps a busy Wednesday, let me tell ya.

Oh, one last thing (and this really has nothing to do with manicotti): does anyone else find that one stray pasta tube hiding at the bottom of the box? Happens every darn time! Anyway, enjoy your crab-stuffed masterpiece, and let me know if you try any oddball variations—I’m always up for a new kitchen adventure.