So Here’s the Story Behind This Orzo Obsession

If you ever need a big hug in a bowl, honestly, this Cheesy Tomato Basil Baked Orzo is it. First time I made it was during a wonky weeknight when I’d run out of energy—and bread, which is rare for me, but anyway. Somehow, this dish turned the grumpiest of evenings into something kind of celebratory. I can still see my brother poking his fork into the gooey cheese, acting like he wasn’t going to eat thirds (he did, by the way—no shame). Sometimes food just gets you out of a funk, you know?

Why This Orzo Is the Star (In My House, Anyway!)

I put this together whenever I want something that feels fancy but requires no brain effort. My family goes absolutely bonkers for it because it’s cheesy (duh) and the tomatoes get all roasty-sweet. Also: the kitchen smells like summertime even in the middle of November. (True story, I once forgot to pick up basil and almost had a revolt on my hands.) And, listen, if you’re a fan of clean-up being as easy as the cooking, well, get your oven mitt ready.

Stuff You’ll Need (Plus a Couple Cheeky Swaps)

2 cups dry orzo pasta (sometimes I use that tiny stelline stuff if that’s what’s in the cupboard)
3 cups vegetable stock (chicken stock works, too; my grandma always insists on Swanson, but honestly, the boxed store brand is fine)
1 can (14 oz/400g) diced tomatoes (with juices)
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved (skip if you can’t be fussed—just add a bit more canned tomato)
2 generous handfuls shredded mozzarella (or a mozzarella/cheddar mix when I’m running out)
1/3 cup grated parmesan (parmigiano reggiano is fancy, but any hard cheese works)
1 fat garlic clove, minced (I eyeball it… maybe two if you’re garlic-happy; sometimes I cheat and use powder. Eh.)
1/2 tsp dried oregano (optional, but I think it adds something)
Fresh basil – as much as you can get away with. A small handful is great, more is better
3 tbsp olive oil (sometimes I use a dab of butter if I’m feeling rebellious)
Salt and black pepper, to taste

Let’s Get You Cooking (With a Few Detours and Personal Gripes)

Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Grab a mediumish baking dish—mine’s about 9×13 inches, but, you know, close enough. If it’s a bit deeper, even less chance of bubbling over (ask me how I know).
In the dish (yep, no extra pot needed), toss the orzo, canned tomatoes (with all the good juices), fresh cherry tomatoes, the garlic, oregano, a pinch of salt, some pepper, and the olive oil. Mix it together—sometimes I use washed hands, sometimes just a spoon. No big deal.
Pour over the stock. If it looks soupy, that’s normal; it’ll drink up while baking. This is the point where I usually sneak a little taste, even though it’s technically just a tomatoey soup right now. (Don’t judge, sometimes I get impatient.)
Spread it all fairly evenly, then cover the dish tightly with foil. Pop it in the oven for about 25 minutes. You might want to check your phone or dance around the kitchen—it’s hands-off for a bit.
After 25 minutes, fish out the dish (careful, it’s hot) and stir things up. Sometimes the corners get toasty, so scrape those bits into the mix—golden crunchy bits FTW.
Sprinkle on all that glorious mozzarella, then the parmesan, and put it back in the oven, this time uncovered. Bake another 10–15 minutes, until it’s bubbly and golden and just about impossible to resist.
Scatter loads of fresh basil over the top. Let it sit a few minutes before digging in—unless, like me, you just can’t wait (I’ve lost the roof of my mouth more than once for this).

Some Notes I’ve Figured Out The Hard Way

If you forget to cover it with foil at first, don’t panic; just add a little more broth at the stirring stage. It’s forgiving.
Every oven is a bit of a wild card, so if yours runs hot like mine, start peeking after 20 minutes. The bottom can get… let’s say, “extra done.”
Oddly, I think this tastes better the next day—but good luck having leftovers.

Variations I’ve Dabbled With (Some Hits, Some Not-So-Hits)

Added cooked sausage once—my partner loved it, my kids picked it all out. Go figure.
Used spinach in place of basil in a pinch. Not bad but it wilted into sad little green threads. Maybe add after baking?
Swapped mozzarella for feta—
actually, that was pretty great, especially if you love a salty kick.

Doohickeys & Workarounds (Equipment Stuff)

A mid-size ceramic or glass baking dish is ideal, but honestly, I’ve just used a deep cake tin before. No foil? Just lay a baking sheet loosely on top. No big deal.

Leftovers, Or: The Mythical Creature

This’ll keep in the fridge two, maybe three days, in a covered container. Just reheat and splash in a spoonful of water or stock so it doesn’t get dry. Though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—I mean, sometimes you blink and it’s just… gone.

How I Like to Serve It (And You Should, Too?)

Big spoonfuls, some black pepper, and—if I’m feeling posh—a drizzle of good olive oil with a handful more basil. Oh! Garlicky green beans on the side work a treat. Sometimes we eat it straight from the pan standing around the kitchen. Not my best manners, but hey, it’s family.

Oh, and a Few “Don’t Do What I Did” Moments

I once tried to skip the stirring half-way through, and let’s just say I needed a chisel to get the orzo out. Stir it. You’ll be glad you did.
Using cold stock straight form the fridge will slow things down—let it sit out a bit first if you can.

Real (And Some Slightly Odd) Questions I’ve Been Asked

Can I use rice instead of orzo?
Probably? I tried once and the result was… mushy. Maybe stick with orzo unless you’re feeling adventurous.
Is this freezer-friendly?
Sort of. It gets a bit mushier after defrosting, but if you’re feeding a hungry crew, it works in a pinch.
What about making it vegan?
Easy—use veggie cheese shreds and skip the parm, or use a vegan version. Worked in a semi-okay kind of way the one time I tested it, but the cheese melt wasn’t as stringy, you know?
Can I double the recipe?
Yes, just use a bigger dish and maybe go for a walk while it bakes—it’ll take a little longer to cook through, but it’s worth the wait.
What if I don’t have fresh basil?
Dried will do in a pinch, but it’s just not the same. Maybe toss in a little parsley for color?

By the way—if you have a cat who is magnetically attracted to the smell of cheese, watch your baking dish if you leave the kitchen. This is apparently a universal law or at least in my chilly old flat.

Lina

Cheesy Tomato Basil Baked Orzo