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Instant Pot Spaghetti — Danielle’s “Sit Down, Cher, I Got This” Dinner

Louisiana in late June is an oven with humidity. The air doesn't move. It sits on you like a wet blanket made of fire. You walk from the truck to the front door — twenty feet — and you're sweating through your shirt. The kids don't care. They're in the sprinkler by 9 AM, running through it shrieking, and Rémy has stripped down to nothing because he is four and has no concept of propriety, and Danielle has stopped fighting it because you pick your battles and a naked four-year-old in the backyard is a battle you lose every time.

Work this week was brutal. Attic work in a house in Denham Springs — and if you've never been in a Louisiana attic in June, let me paint a picture: it's 140 degrees, there's no light except your headlamp, the insulation itches like a biblical plague, and you're lying on your stomach pulling wire through joists while sweat runs into your eyes and you question every life decision that led you to this moment. I was up there for three hours on Tuesday running a new circuit for a homeowner who wanted an attic fan. An attic fan. In an attic that is already 140 degrees. The irony was not lost on me.

But I finished the job, and the fan works, and the homeowner was happy, and he paid me in cash and sweet tea, which is the Denham Springs economy in a nutshell. I got home at 6, took a cold shower that lasted fifteen minutes, and collapsed on the couch, and Danielle looked at me and said, "I'll make dinner tonight," which is how I know she loves me, because Danielle cooking dinner voluntarily is a gesture of profound affection.

She made pasta. Not Cajun. Not even Southern. Just spaghetti with meat sauce from a jar with garlic bread from the freezer, and it was exactly what I needed, because sometimes you don't need a roux that took forty-five minutes. Sometimes you need something that took twenty minutes and a wife who said, "Sit down, cher, I got this." The kids loved it because kids love pasta the way adults love payday: unconditionally.

Saturday I took Rémy fishing at the lake in BREC's park — University Lake, the one by LSU. It's not real fishing — it's park fishing, with a Snoopy rod and worms from a Styrofoam cup — but Rémy doesn't know the difference and he doesn't care. He caught a bream. One bream. Maybe six inches long. He held it up like he'd landed a marlin, and I took a picture and sent it to Mama, who called within two minutes to tell Rémy he was "a real fisherman, just like Papaw Joey," and Rémy glowed for the rest of the day. Some kids glow when they get a toy. Rémy glows when he catches a fish. That boy is bayou to his bones.

I sent the fish photo to Angelle too. She texted back a row of heart emojis, which is Angelle's native language. Pierre didn't respond, because Pierre doesn't text, or email, or participate in the twenty-first century in any way that requires a screen. I assume he saw it when Angelle showed him, and I assume he nodded, and I assume that was that. We are not a family that over-communicates. We are a family that shows up with food and builds things and nods.

After a day like that — Rémy glowing, Mama calling, the whole family nodding its quiet approval across phone screens and across miles — I didn’t want to cook something that required me to think. I wanted something that fed people, something that stuck to your ribs and said “you’re home,” and I wanted it fast, because a six-year-old who’s been fishing all day does not wait gracefully for supper. Instant Pot spaghetti with meat sauce is exactly that kind of meal — the kind our family shows up with. Here’s how I made it.

Instant Pot Spaghetti with Meat Sauce

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground beef (80/20)
  • 1 lb spaghetti, broken in half
  • 1 jar (24 oz) store-bought marinara or meat sauce
  • 2 cups beef broth or water
  • 1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tsp Italian seasoning
  • 1/2 tsp garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 tsp black pepper
  • Grated Parmesan, for serving

Instructions

  1. Brown the beef. Set the Instant Pot to Sauté mode. Add the ground beef and diced onion. Cook, breaking the meat up with a wooden spoon, until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat if needed. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more.
  2. Deglaze the pot. Pour in the beef broth and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot — this prevents the burn warning. Stir in the Italian seasoning, garlic powder, salt, and pepper.
  3. Layer the pasta. Add the broken spaghetti in a loose criss-cross pattern over the beef mixture. Do not stir. Pour the jar of marinara sauce evenly over the pasta without stirring.
  4. Pressure cook. Seal the lid and set the valve to Sealing. Cook on High Pressure for 8 minutes. When the timer ends, do a controlled quick release by carefully moving the valve to Venting in short bursts to avoid sauce splatter.
  5. Stir and rest. Open the lid and stir the spaghetti through the sauce, breaking up any clumps. Let it sit uncovered for 2–3 minutes — it will thicken as it rests. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
  6. Serve. Dish into bowls and top with grated Parmesan. Pairs perfectly with frozen garlic bread and the satisfaction of not having to cook after a long week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 475 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 59g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 710mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 14 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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