Name: Mediterranean Vegetable Pasta Bake
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 35 min
Total time: 55 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Mediterranean
Ingredients: 300g penne pasta; 1 medium zucchini, diced; 1 red bell pepper, chopped; 1 small eggplant, diced; 150g cherry tomatoes, halved; 2 cups tomato pasta sauce; 1 teaspoon dried oregano; 1 teaspoon dried basil; 2 tablespoons olive oil; 100g mozzarella cheese, shredded; 50g feta cheese, crumbled; Salt and black pepper, to taste

So, you want to make my Mediterranean Vegetable Pasta Bake?

Let me just say, this casserole has saved my skin more often than I’d like to admit—especially on those weeknights when the fridge looks a bit sad and ordering takeaway feels a tad defeatist. The first time I made it, I forgot to preheat the oven, tripped over the cat, and nearly used cinnamon instead of cumin (don’t ask), but out popped the most comforting, bubbling dish that had my kids silently inhaling vegetables and my spouse actually asking for seconds (which seriously never happens unless cake is involved). Now, we call it “That Pasta Thing” and I swear, it gets requested more than pizza. Well, almost.

Why this is always in my back pocket

I pretty much make this whenever I forget to plan dinner—in fact, the less I plan, the better it seems to turn out (is that a life lesson making an appearance?). My family goes bananas for this because it’s loaded with roasted veggies and, crucially, plenty of cheese. If it’s a rainy day or I’ve had a tough one, I’ll double the cheese (and maybe pour myself a tiny glass of vino for good measure). Also, it’s epic for sneakily using up those last two courgettes rolling around the drawer—or whatever’s lurking in the veg bowl. I used to stress about getting the ‘right’ mix, but honestly, as long as you’ve got colour and a bit of garlic, you’re golden. Oh, and the whole thing takes maybe 20 minutes of actual effort, which is handy when my attention span is the size of a gnat’s.

The shopping list (plus how I fudge it sometimes)

One large aubergine (eggplant), diced — if I’m out, I’ll swap in mushrooms; nobody riots.
2 bell peppers (any colour, though red looks nice), chopped. My grandmother insisted on yellow, but I’ve used green in a pinch. No lightning strike yet.
1 hefty courgette (zucchini), sliced up (or two if they’re tiny. If you only have squash — just do that!)
A red onion, peeled and wedged. White works fine, too, or even a big old shallot.
3-4 cloves garlic, sliced (if I’m in a hurry, I use the jarred minced stuff, don’t judge)
2 tablespoons olive oil, although I’ve definitely eyeballed it and survived
1 tsp dried oregano. Sometimes I toss in thyme or rosemary because, well, why not?
Pinch of smoked paprika (honestly optional but adds zing!)
1 tin (400g) chopped tomatoes. I tried homemade ones once, too much faff.
250g pasta (penne, fusilli, even elbows; pasta snobs, avert your eyes)
120g feta, crumbled (or goat cheese, if that’s kicking around your fridge)
100g shredded mozzarella. (Parmesan also works, or I just go wild with whatever cheese odds ‘n ends)
Salt and pepper, to taste—and yes, sometimes I forget until the end

Let’s make this—step by messy step

Preheat your oven to 200°C (about 400°F). Or if you’re me, stare at the oven dials for a second trying to remember how they work.
Toss all your chopped veg in a roasting pan. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle over oregano, paprika, salt & pepper. Get your hands in there (don’t be shy), and give everything a proper mix. Spread it out—evenish.
Roast veg for 25-30 minutes until they’re just catching at the edges and you get that caramel-y smell. Meanwhile: bring a big pot of salty water to the boil for your pasta. I usually forget and panic when the veg are already roasting—don’t be like me.
Boil the pasta just shy of al dente (it finishes in the oven; mushy pasta is the stuff of nightmares). Drain, set aside, and have a little dance if you feel like it.
Once veg are roasted, tip them into a big mixing bowl with your cooked pasta and tinned tomatoes. Stir everything gently so you don’t demolish all the veggies.
Add half the cheese (pick any combo you fancy), give it a stir. (This is where I usually sneak a taste and adjust seasoning—pasta’s personal, after all!)
Pop the whole glorious mess into a baking dish. Scatter the rest of the cheese over the top—don’t skimp. If you’ve got a spare tomato or two, slice thin and layer over the cheese for a bit of poshness.
Bake, uncovered, 20-25 minutes, or until it’s golden and bubbly and your kitchen smells like you’re on holiday. Don’t worry if it looks a bit gunky straight out of the oven—it settles.

Bits I learned the hard way (a.k.a. notes)

Leaving the veg in too long? Not a disaster. Actually, charred edges are lovely.
Sometimes your oven runs a bit cool and it won’t bubble as impressively. Just pop the broiler (grill) on for a few minutes; stand close, though. Not that I’ve ever burned the lot in five seconds. Nope.
Pasta shape doesn’t really matter. Except tiny shells, which went wobbly for me once. I think it’s better the next day, cold or reheated.

Experiments I’ve tried (good ones and one fail)

Added olives and capers—super salty and fantastic. Green olives are my jam but black’s also good.
I once stirred in leftover rotisserie chicken (don’t tell the vegetarians) and it was a hit.
Tried using ricotta, which went kind of watery—probably just me, but I’ve given up on that.
Swapped in gluten-free pasta for my mate once; honestly, no one noticed.

If you don’t have all the gear

I mostly use a 9×13-inch baking dish but once just used a giant skillet—worked fine, just slightly trickier on the serving. Don’t have roasting pans? Split the veg onto two trays; we make do.

How to store it (though ours rarely does…)

It keeps in the fridge (tucked in lidded containers) for up to 3 days. Actually, my lot never lets it last that long so this is mostly theoretical. Reheats nicely in the oven or microwave; splatter guard recommended or the cleaning elves will skip your place that night.

How we eat it—feel free to copy

Honestly it’s a meal in itself, but a crisp green salad and maybe some garlicky bread go down a treat. At ours, someone always wants chilli flakes on top; I ignore them and add more feta. My cousin likes it with a runny fried egg on the side—odd, but I tried it once and it works. Who knew?

Things I wish past-me had known (pro tips)

I once rushed the veg and they came out sort of soggy and sad. If you’ve got a few extra minutes, let them roast ’til there’s a bit of colour. That’s where the flavour is hiding.
I tried low-fat cheese once and it just… sort of vanished. Honestly? Use the good stuff.
Don’t forget to grease your baking dish. You’ll only do it once, trust me.

People actually ask me these things (FAQs)

Can I freeze it? You can—though, real talk, the veg get a bit mushy on defrosting. Still tasty, just don’t expect Instagram vibes.
What if I don’t have tinned tomatoes? Happenend to me last week! Used a carton of passata and a spoonful of tomato paste. Worked just fine.
Is it vegan? Erm, not by default, but just skip the cheese and it’s pretty darn close. Maybe a sprinkle of nutritional yeast for the cheesy vibe?
How spicy is it? By default, not much at all; but throw in chilli flakes if you fancy a kick.
Do picky eaters actually eat this? Mine do, especially if they get to add extra cheese or pick out the rogue bits of aubergine.

Random aside: I once tried making this while listening to a podcast on sourdough starters and almost poured my starter into the pasta. Moral of the story? Maybe pick music instead of educational podcasts while cooking if your brain’s as easily distracted as mine.

Helpful links, if you want even more pasta goodness or veggie inspiration: BBC Good Food always has a solid veggie section, and if you need a reliable conversion for measurements (’cause honestly, grams and ounces drive me bonkers), I peek at Allrecipes’ conversion chart.

Let me know how it goes—or, better yet, send me a picture if it actually makes it to the table before someone sticks a fork in it!

Mediterranean Vegetable Pasta Bake: My Cozy Weeknight Favorite