One Pot Chicken Parmesan Pasta -- The Mercy of One Burner, One Pot, One Tired Woman Who Loves Her Family

The fifth week of lockdown, and the household has developed the particular intimacy that confinement creates — the intimacy of people who know each other's morning sounds, each other's bathroom schedules, each other's tells for "I need to be alone" (James closes his door; Carrie puts in earbuds; Robert goes to the workshop; Mama hums; I cook). The tells are the vocabulary of proximity, the language we speak when we need distance but cannot have it, and the language is working because we are all fluent in it, because we are a family that has always lived close and has always needed the codes for closeness.

James and Carrie have been spending evenings together — not by choice (James would prefer his room, Carrie would prefer her friends) but by the gravitational pull of a house that has no other people in it and that therefore pulls its inhabitants toward each other the way planets pull moons. They watch movies on the couch. They argue about politics (Carrie is to James's left, which is to say Carrie is to everyone's left, and the leftness is both political and dispositional). They cook together on Saturdays, producing meals that are neither Lowcountry nor anything else but that are theirs — collaborations between a twenty-year-old pre-law student and an eighteen-year-old woman who has decided that pandemic cooking is a survival skill worth acquiring.

Mama had a fall — not a bad one, a stumble in the hallway, caught by Robert, who has developed the reflexes of a man who is always half-listening for the sound of unsteady footsteps. The fall was minor. The vigilance is major. The major-ness of the vigilance is the pandemic's gift to Robert: it has given him a purpose in the sealed house, a role, the role of the man who watches the hallway and catches the woman who stumbles. The role is the love. The love is the catching.

I made a one-pot pasta — not Lowcountry, not Southern, not anything Mama would recognize, but the meal of a woman who is cooking three meals a day for five people and who has earned the right to a shortcut. The pasta was noodles and tomatoes and garlic and cheese and whatever vegetables were in the refrigerator, all cooked in one pot, and the one-pot-ness was the mercy, and the mercy was the math: one pot, one burner, one woman who is tired and who is loved and who is cooking through the tiredness because the cooking is the thing that holds the house together.

That evening, after Robert caught Mama in the hallway and James and Carrie had settled into their reluctant, gravitational companionship on the couch, I needed the mercy of a single pot—not because I was cutting corners, but because the cooking had to hold without breaking me. One Pot Chicken Parmesan Pasta was the answer: familiar flavors that even a sealed house in its fifth week of confinement would recognize as comfort, ready before anyone thought to ask what was for dinner. It is the recipe I will always associate with that particular season of closeness—the one that let me be tired and still be the person who held the house together.

One Pot Chicken Parmesan Pasta

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 5

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
• 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 1 (24 oz) jar marinara sauce
• 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 cup water
• 12 oz penne or rigatoni pasta, uncooked
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
• 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• Fresh basil or flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

1. Season and sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Season the chicken pieces with Italian seasoning, red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper. Add chicken to the pot in a single layer and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly golden on the outside, about 4–5 minutes. The chicken does not need to be fully cooked through at this stage.
2. Build the base. Add the minced garlic to the pot and stir for about 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour in the marinara sauce, chicken broth, and water, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
3. Add the pasta. Stir in the uncooked pasta, making sure it is mostly submerged in the liquid. Bring the mixture to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
4. Cook until tender. Cook uncovered, stirring every 3–4 minutes to prevent sticking, until the pasta is al dente and has absorbed most of the liquid, about 13–15 minutes. If the pot looks dry before the pasta is done, add a splash of water or broth.
5. Finish with cheese. Remove the pot from heat. Stir in the Parmesan until melted and combined. Scatter the mozzarella over the top, cover with a lid, and let sit for 2–3 minutes until the mozzarella is melted and pulls into soft ribbons.
6. Serve. Spoon into bowls, top with additional Parmesan and fresh basil or parsley. Bring the pot to the table—that is the whole point.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 42g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 820mg