Cheesy Butternut Squash Pasta with Bacon

November has crept in and Portland is a study in gray — gray sky, gray rain, gray pavement, the green of the fir trees the only color that persists when the deciduous trees have given up their leaves. I find this beautiful. Brian finds it depressing. This might be the most fundamental difference between us: I am comforted by gray and he needs color. Our marriage is a weather map with two incompatible forecasts.

I made nikujaga this week — the Japanese meat and potato stew that is comfort food at its most elemental. Sliced beef, potatoes, onions, carrots, and shirataki noodles simmered in a sweet soy-dashi broth until everything is tender and slightly caramelized. It is the dish Japanese wives are supposed to master, according to tradition, because it is the dish husbands are supposed to crave. I do not cook nikujaga because tradition demands it. I cook it because it tastes like being wrapped in a blanket, and November requires blankets of all kinds.

Miya is crawling forward now — proper crawling, hands and knees, a determined march toward anything she should not touch. The cat has relocated to the top of the bookshelf. The apartment has been baby-proofed to the point where it resembles a padded cell designed by someone with a background in child development and a tendency toward overprotection. That someone is me. I have put foam corners on every surface. I have locked every cabinet. I have done the thing that anxious mothers do: attempted to make the physical world as safe as the emotional world never is.

Brian and I had a argument on Tuesday about money. Not a screaming argument — we do not scream, we Nakamura the conflict, which means we state our positions quietly and then do not speak for hours. The argument was about whether I should increase my yoga schedule or whether the blog could eventually bring in income. Brian thinks the blog is a hobby. I think the blog is becoming something else. I do not have evidence yet. I have a feeling, and Brian does not make financial decisions based on feelings, and I do not know how to translate a feeling into a spreadsheet.

I called Mom. She said, "Trust your instincts." Dad would have said, "What does the data show?" I am the daughter of both of them, which means I trust my instincts while simultaneously doubting them with data. This is exhausting. This is who I am.

The nikujaga I described above is what I made on Wednesday — but this pasta is what I made Thursday, when the dashi was gone and Miya had just pulled herself up on the cabinet I forgot to latch and I needed dinner on the table in under thirty minutes. The sweet, caramelized squash and the salty bacon hit the same note that beef and soy broth hit for me: savory and slightly sweet, warm all the way through. Brian had two bowls. Sometimes the argument from Tuesday lives in the silence between you and the person across the table, and sometimes good food just quietly sets it down.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

3 cups butternut squash, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
6 slices thick-cut bacon, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 cup shredded Gruyère cheese (or sharp white cheddar)
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
12 oz penne or rigatoni pasta
2 tablespoons fresh sage, thinly sliced (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 425°F. Toss butternut squash cubes with 1 tablespoon olive oil, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet and roast 20–25 minutes, flipping halfway, until tender and caramelized at the edges. Set aside.
Cook the pasta. While the squash roasts, bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until just al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water before draining. Drain and set aside.
Render the bacon. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook bacon pieces until crispy, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate with a slotted spoon. Pour off all but 1 tablespoon of bacon fat from the skillet.
Build the sauce. Return skillet to medium heat and add remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add onion and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and sage and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Pour in chicken broth and scrape up any browned bits from the pan. Add heavy cream and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook 3–4 minutes until slightly reduced.
Melt in the cheese. Reduce heat to low. Add Gruyère and Parmesan a handful at a time, stirring after each addition until fully melted and the sauce is smooth. If the sauce seems too thick, loosen with a splash of reserved pasta water.
Combine everything. Add the drained pasta to the skillet and toss to coat in the sauce. Gently fold in the roasted butternut squash and most of the crispy bacon, reserving a little bacon for topping. Add red pepper flakes if using. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
Serve. Divide among bowls and top with reserved bacon, extra Parmesan, and a crack of black pepper. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cheesy Butternut Squash Pasta with Bacon — The Comfort I Could Make When I Couldn’t Make Nikujaga