Cheesecake Factory Pasta da Vinci

I got a letter this week. A real letter — envelope, stamp, handwriting. It was from a woman named Angela Simmons in Memphis, Tennessee, who said she'd been reading my blog since the beginning and that my shrimp and grits recipe saved her marriage. Now, I have heard a lot of things about my shrimp and grits, but marriage salvation is a new one.

Angela wrote that she and her husband, Gerald, had been going through a rough patch last year — she didn't give details, and I didn't need them — and one evening she made my shrimp and grits for dinner instead of the frozen pizza they'd been eating in silence for weeks. Gerald came into the kitchen, smelled the shrimp, and said, "You cooked?" And she said, "I cooked." And they sat down and ate together for the first time in a month, and somewhere between the grits and the cornbread, they started talking again.

Angela said, "Mrs. Henderson, your recipe didn't fix our problems. But it got us back to the table. And the table is where we remember who we are." I read that sentence three times. I read it a fourth time. Then I put the letter on the refrigerator next to the Savannah Morning News clipping and the photo of Willie James and the picture Amara drew me of a tomato that looks like a red cloud with legs.

The table is where we remember who we are. Angela Simmons from Memphis, Tennessee, you said the thing I've been trying to say for nine years in one sentence. I am humbled and I am grateful and I am going to write you back on real stationery, the kind with flowers on the border that I keep in the drawer for occasions that deserve more than an iPad.

The garden is producing now. The first Cherokee Purple of the season came off the vine Thursday — not fully ripe yet, more orange than purple, but close. I resisted the urge to pick it. Patience, Dot. Patience. The tomato knows when it's ready. You just have to trust the vine.

Made she-crab soup tonight. The real kind, with crab roe, which you cannot get at the grocery store — you have to know somebody who knows somebody who pulls crabs from the creek. I know somebody. Her name is Miss Vernelle and she is eighty-four years old and she has been pulling crabs from the marsh behind her house on Wilmington Island since before I was born. She doesn't sell them commercially. She sells them to people she likes. I am one of four people she likes. The soup was rich and creamy and tasted like the Lowcountry tastes when it stops performing for tourists and just feeds its own people.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The she-crab soup was for Miss Vernelle’s crabs — a dish that belongs to a place and a season and four people she likes. But Angela Simmons’ letter reminded me that not every meal has to be rare to be sacred; some nights you just need something rich and generous and worth sitting down for. This Pasta da Vinci is exactly that kind of meal — a deep, creamy marsala sauce with chicken and mushrooms that asks nothing of you except that you slow down, set the table, and eat it with somebody who matters.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz penne pasta
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 cup Marsala wine
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
3/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook penne according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain and set aside.
Sear the chicken. Season chicken pieces generously with salt and pepper. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken in a single layer and cook 4–5 minutes per side until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
Build the sauce base. Reduce heat to medium. Add remaining olive oil and butter to the same skillet. Add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and thyme; cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Sauté the mushrooms. Add mushrooms to the skillet and cook, undisturbed for 2 minutes, then stir and continue cooking until mushrooms are tender and any liquid has evaporated, about 4–5 minutes total.
Deglaze with Marsala. Pour in the Marsala wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let the wine reduce by half, about 2–3 minutes.
Finish the cream sauce. Add the chicken broth and heavy cream. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 6–8 minutes. Stir in the Parmesan until fully melted and smooth. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Bring it together. Return the cooked chicken to the skillet. Add the drained penne and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time if the sauce needs loosening. Cook together for 1–2 minutes so the pasta absorbs the sauce.
Serve. Divide among warm bowls or plates. Top with additional Parmesan and fresh parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cheesecake Factory Pasta da Vinci — Rich, Creamy, and Made for the People You Love