Pasta with Ground Turkey & Broccoli

Thanksgiving. The second without Rosa, the second with Alejandro crossing the bridge. He looks the same as last year — smaller, thinner, the grief erosion continuing its work — but he is sober, or sober enough, and he ate the caldo de res with the focused attention of a man who is tasting his wife in the broth and doesn't want to miss a note.

This year I made the full spread: caldo de res (Rosa's), enchiladas rojas (mine), rice, beans, flan (Rosa's), and — for the first time — a turkey. An actual turkey. Because Diego asked for turkey. He said: "Mom, it's Thanksgiving. Other families have turkey." I said: "We are not other families." He said: "Can we be other families just for the turkey part?" And because Diego's requests are so rare and so reasonable and because saying no to a nine-year-old who just wants to be normal for one meal is the kind of cruelty I refuse to practice, I bought a turkey. I didn't know how to cook a turkey. I looked it up online. I roasted it with butter and cumin and oregano — a Mexican turkey, because the turkey can be American but the seasoning will always be Chihuahua.

The turkey was good. Not great. My first turkey will never be as good as my thousandth enchilada. But Diego ate three plates and said, "See? Turkey is good," and I said, "Turkey is fine," and he said, "You'll make it better next year," and he is right. He is always right about the things that can be improved. He is an engineer of food as much as anything.

Camila said grace again. This year: "Thank you God for the food and the turkey which is new and the family and the bakery and Abuela Rosa in heaven and the dog we still don't have but I haven't given up." Luis looked at me. I looked at the ceiling. The dog prayer continues. Year two. I am beginning to suspect that God is on Camila's side in this negotiation.

After dinner, I sat with Alejandro on the porch. He doesn't talk much, but the porch makes him more talkative, the way the dark makes all quiet people more talkative — the dark is a permission slip for feelings, and feelings are what Alejandro stores in bottles and rarely opens. He said: "The house is too quiet." I said: "Come live with us." He said: "I can't leave her kitchen." I said: "Papá, the kitchen doesn't need you." He said: "I need the kitchen." And I understood. The kitchen is the last room in the world that smells like Rosa, and leaving it would be leaving her, and he has already lost her once. He will not lose her a second time, even if keeping her means staying in a house that is eating him alive.

That first turkey wasn’t great, but Diego was right—it got better. And what got even better was what I started doing with the leftover turkey the week after Thanksgiving: pulling it apart, browning it with garlic and a little cumin, tossing it with broccoli and pasta until Diego and Camila had clean plates and I had one less thing to worry about on a Wednesday night. This recipe is the weeknight version of that impulse—ground turkey instead of leftovers, because you shouldn’t have to wait for November to feed your family something simple and warm.

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

Ingredients

12 oz penne or rotini pasta
1 lb ground turkey
3 cups broccoli florets, cut into bite-sized pieces
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon butter
Salt and black pepper to taste
Juice of 1/2 lime

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions, adding broccoli florets during the last 3 minutes of cooking. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain.
Brown the turkey. While the pasta cooks, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground turkey, breaking it apart with a wooden spoon. Season with cumin, oregano, smoked paprika, red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper. Cook until browned and cooked through, about 7-8 minutes.
Add the garlic. Stir in the minced garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Pour in the chicken broth and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the skillet.
Combine everything. Add the drained pasta and broccoli to the skillet. Toss with butter and Parmesan cheese, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time until the sauce coats the pasta lightly.
Finish and serve. Squeeze lime juice over the top, toss once more, and taste for seasoning. Serve warm with extra Parmesan if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pasta with Ground Turkey & Broccoli — Because the Turkey Can Be American but the Seasoning Will Always Be Chihuahua