Roasted Pepper Chicken Penne

First full week of living together. Observations: Megan uses approximately seventeen towels per shower. She leaves her reading glasses in every room. She hums while grading papers — not a tune, just a hum, like a generator that runs on red ink. She falls asleep on the couch every night by 9:30 because teaching fourth graders is apparently more exhausting than any other job in America, and I believe her.

I love all of it. I love the towels and the glasses and the humming. I love that the apartment smells like her shampoo now. I love that she arranged her books alphabetically by author and then reorganized them by genre and then gave up and organized them by color. I love that she is here, in my space, making it our space, one slightly chaotic decision at a time.

Cooking for two is different from cooking for one. The portions are bigger. The leftovers disappear faster. The feedback is immediate — she tells me what she likes, what she doesn't, what she'd eat every day if I'd let her. She is honest without being unkind. She said my meatloaf was "fine," which in Megan-speak means "I will eat it but I will not enjoy it." I retired the meatloaf. She said my pierogi are "perfect," which in Megan-speak means "perfect." No notes.

Made a one-pot chicken and rice this week — a weeknight staple that I'm perfecting for our new life. Chicken thighs browned in a Dutch oven, removed, then onion, garlic, and rice sauteed in the drippings, chicken broth poured in, chicken returned on top, covered, baked for forty-five minutes. The rice absorbs everything — the fat, the broth, the flavor. It's the kind of meal that makes you feel taken care of, which is what I want every meal to do. Not impress. Not challenge. Just care.

At the brewery, the spring pale ale is outselling everything. The taproom is busy. Summer is coming. I feel, for the first time in a long time, like every part of my life is moving in the right direction. Work, love, food. All of it. Right direction.

I’ve been riffing on one-pan chicken dinners since Megan moved in—meals that feel like an embrace rather than a performance—and this Roasted Pepper Chicken Penne is the one I keep coming back to when the taproom has been loud and the couch looks inviting by 9 o’clock. It’s got the same logic as that Dutch oven rice dish: brown the chicken, build flavor in the same pan, let everything come together without fuss. She gave it a “I’d eat this every week,” which in Megan-speak is about as high as praise gets.

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

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
12 oz penne pasta
1 jar (12 oz) roasted red peppers, drained and sliced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Salt and black pepper to taste
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
Fresh basil or flat-leaf 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.
Season and brown the chicken. Pat chicken pieces dry and season generously with salt, black pepper, and smoked paprika. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven 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.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add remaining tablespoon of olive oil to the same pan. Sauté onion until softened, about 4 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Stir in the roasted peppers, diced tomatoes, chicken broth, and Italian seasoning. Simmer uncovered for 8—10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until slightly reduced.
Add cream and finish. Stir in the heavy cream and red pepper flakes if using. Return the chicken to the pan along with the drained penne. Toss everything together, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time if the sauce feels tight. Simmer 2—3 minutes until everything is coated and heated through.
Finish with Parmesan. Remove from heat, stir in 1/2 cup Parmesan, and taste for seasoning. Adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Divide into bowls and top with extra Parmesan and a scattering of fresh basil or parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Roasted Pepper Chicken Penne — The Weeknight Meal That Made Our Apartment Feel Like Home