Smoky Sun-Dried Tomato Chicken Penne

Three weeks. Maybe four. The date isn't set but it's close — Womack said early February, could be the first week, depends on the final medical review and the speed of a bureaucracy that has never once in its history been described as fast. I'm packing. Not physically — I own one duffel bag and could pack it in ten minutes — but mentally. Sorting what I'm bringing home and what I'm leaving here, and I don't mean clothes.

Dr. Mercer gave me a referral to the VA in Billings. A therapist named Kessler. She said he's good with combat vets. She said transition is the hardest part — not the war, not the recovery, but the after, the going back to a life that didn't deploy with you and didn't change while you were gone, except you changed, and now you have to fit a different shape into the same hole. She said it like that, "different shape, same hole," and I said, "You should put that on a poster," and she almost smiled, which from Dr. Mercer is a standing ovation.

I drove to the grocery store in Colorado Springs on Saturday. Off post. Into the world. I do this sometimes — make myself go where the civilians are, where nobody's in uniform, where the sounds are shopping carts and children and the particular chaos of people who have never once considered whether the parking lot has been swept for IEDs. I made it forty minutes. The fluorescent lights buzz at a frequency that lives in the same neighborhood as certain sounds I'd rather not visit, and a kid dropped a jar of something in aisle six and I was in the parking lot before I knew I'd moved. That's the TBI. That's the thing that doesn't heal. I sat in the truck for ten minutes with my hands on the wheel and breathed. Then I went back in. Got what I needed. Left.

What I needed was chicken thighs and rice and a yellow onion. Made arroz con pollo — Espinoza's version, or my memory of it, which is probably wrong in every important way but right enough. Chicken browned in the skillet, onion and garlic softened in the fat, rice stirred until each grain is coated, broth and a can of tomatoes, everything in the oven covered tight. Forty-five minutes. The rice absorbs everything. That's what rice does — takes on whatever surrounds it, becomes part of it. I'm trying to learn that. How to absorb instead of resist. The chicken was tender. The rice was right. Espinoza would've said it needed cilantro. He'd have been correct.

The arroz con pollo did its job that night — grounded me, gave me something to tend to, proved I could still follow a thing through to the end — and it got me thinking about the whole category of recipes that work the same way: chicken, fat, aromatics, tomatoes, heat, time. This Smoky Sun-Dried Tomato Chicken Penne is that same instinct translated to a weeknight skillet. It’s not Espinoza’s recipe, and it’s not rice, but the logic is identical — brown the chicken, build flavor in the fat that’s left behind, let the pasta absorb everything the pan has to say. I made it the following Thursday and it was the best I’d eaten in a month. Posting it here because some of you are also just trying to get through the week.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 small yellow onion, diced
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained and roughly chopped
1 can (14.5 oz) diced fire-roasted tomatoes
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
8 oz penne pasta, dry
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh basil or flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

Season the chicken. In a bowl, toss the chicken pieces with smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes until evenly coated.
Brown the chicken. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large, deep skillet or wide saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the chicken in a single layer and cook, undisturbed, for 3–4 minutes until golden brown on one side. Flip and cook another 2 minutes. Transfer chicken to a plate — it does not need to be fully cooked through yet.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil to the same skillet. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until softened. Add the minced garlic and sun-dried tomatoes and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add tomatoes and broth. Pour in the canned diced tomatoes and chicken broth. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
Cook the pasta. Add the dry penne directly to the skillet. Bring the liquid to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer. Cover and cook for 12–14 minutes, stirring every few minutes, until the pasta is just tender and has absorbed most of the liquid.
Return the chicken. Nestle the browned chicken back into the skillet, pressing it gently into the pasta. Cover and cook for an additional 4–5 minutes until the chicken is cooked through (internal temp 165°F).
Finish the sauce. Reduce heat to low. Stir in the heavy cream and Parmesan cheese until the sauce is smooth and glossy. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
Serve. Divide among bowls and top with fresh basil or parsley. Extra Parmesan never hurt anyone.

Nutrition (per serving)

Smoky Sun-Dried Tomato Chicken Penne — The Recipe That Reminded Me I Still Know How to Cook