Skillet Butternut Squash and Penne Pasta

Patrick asked me to run the fall roundup.

He didn't say it that way. He came out to the corral Monday morning while I was working with the horses and started talking about the calendar — how many weeks until we'd want to start weaning, what the pasture conditions looked like for separating the calves, whether I thought the south pasture was going to need supplemental feed before November. And then he said, "I figure you know what needs doing."

That was all. In Patrick Gallagher language that means: I'm handing you the operation. You're ready.

I'm not sure I'm ready. But I said I'd figure it out, which is as close as we get to yes around here.

I spent the week mapping the operation in my head — what order to work the pastures, where to set up the temporary pens, when to bring in the vet, which cows to pull for the pregnancy check. It's the kind of planning that requires knowing the land and the animals and the equipment all at once, and I've been watching Patrick do this for twenty-three years. I know the theory. Running it is different from watching it.

Gary says this is how recovery works too — you watch others do the thing until you have to do it yourself, and then you find out what you actually know. He's got a way of making everything a metaphor. I told him that and he said, "Everything is a metaphor. That's what experience is."

Mom made chili Saturday — her version, beef with kidney beans and crushed tomatoes and her own dried spices. It's not the elk chili I've been working on in my head, but Mom's beef chili is the foundational document. The prototype. Everything I cook is in conversation with what Colleen Gallagher made in this kitchen for thirty years.

September in Montana means fall is real. The aspens on the hillsides are shifting — just a hint of yellow at the edges. The air has that cold clarity that doesn't exist in summer. Fifty-one days dry.

Mom’s chili Saturday was the foundational document — beef, kidney beans, crushed tomatoes, thirty years of dried spices — and it reminded me that fall cooking is a conversation, not a competition. I wasn’t ready to attempt my elk chili yet, the one still living only in my head, so I went to the skillet instead and let butternut squash do what September already was doing to the hillsides: turning everything gold and quiet and right. Gary would probably say the skillet is a metaphor too, and maybe he’d be correct.

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

Ingredients

12 oz penne pasta
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 small yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 cups butternut squash, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1/2 teaspoon dried sage
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and black pepper, to taste
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
2 cups fresh baby spinach
Fresh 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.
Saute the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4–5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Cook the squash. Add the butternut squash cubes to the skillet along with the sage, thyme, red pepper flakes, salt, and black pepper. Stir to coat. Pour in the broth, cover the skillet, and cook over medium heat for 12–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the squash is just fork-tender.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium-low. Pour in the heavy cream and stir to combine with the squash and pan juices. Let simmer uncovered for 3–4 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly. If the sauce tightens too much, stir in a splash of the reserved pasta water.
Combine and finish. Add the drained penne and baby spinach to the skillet. Toss everything together over low heat until the spinach wilts and the pasta is coated in the sauce, about 2 minutes. Stir in the Parmesan and adjust seasoning as needed.
Serve. Divide into bowls and top with additional Parmesan and fresh parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Skillet Butternut Squash and Penne Pasta — The Fall Dish I Made When Mom’s Chili Had Me Thinking About the Season