If you’re after a dinner that basically cooks itself...

You know how some days you just stare at the fridge, channeling your inner telepath, hoping something answers you? That’s how Chicken Sausage and Broccoli Orzo happened at my house—my stomach told me it was hungry, the fridge said 'eh, good luck,' and my brain decided to wing it with whatever I found lurking (unloved broccoli, some chicken sausage, and a box of orzo hanging on for dear life at the back of the cupboard; it's always the last pasta to get picked!). Actually, this recipe is the sort of thing I come back to on those weeknights when I'm too tired to think straight but still want something that tastes like effort. Plus, on one memorable occasion, one of my kids tried to sneak the orzo from the pot before I'd even finished—a minor catastrophe, unless you like a crunchy noodle. Lesson learned!

Why You’ll Love This (Or at Least I Sure Do)

I make this when I only have half an hour before the whole house descends into chaos (dinner time = wild time here). My family goes a bit nuts over it because it’s hearty—but not heavy—and the sausage gives it this savory, punchy flavor that makes broccoli taste like less of a chore. Oh, and the best part? Hardly any dishes. (Seriously, any meal that doesn’t bring out every pot I own is a winner.)

Sometimes I've gotten halfway through and realized I forgot to defrost the chicken sausage, but I've just sliced it up still half-frozen and, well, it wasn't amazing but nobody noticed (except me, but that’s my cross to bear). I’ll level with you: broccoli is not my favorite veggie, but here it just soaks up all the flavor—now I actually crave it, which is just wild if you knew me a few years ago.

Gather Your Ingredients (Swaps Welcome, No Judgement)

2-3 chicken sausages (about 250g; I like garlic and herb, but whatever’s on sale works fine—I've even used leftover grilled chicken in a pinch)
1 big handful (let’s call it 2 cups) chopped broccoli (fresh or frozen; my granny swore by Birds Eye, but truthfully, I use whatever is at hand)
1 and ¼ cups orzo pasta (or tiny pasta like risoni—rice would work, but the texture is different)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced (confession: I sometimes just shake in garlic powder and hope for the best)
1 small onion, chopped (or skip it, if onions are not your thing)
3 cups chicken broth (Kallo cubes, stock-in-a-jar, or straight from a carton—it all works, promise)
½ cup grated parmesan (plus extra for serving—this makes the whole thing sing)
1-2 tablespoon olive oil
Salt & pepper, to taste (I’m not precious, but do taste before serving)
Some fresh lemon zest (optional, but I love the zing; totally your call)

How I Actually Make It (Messy Steps & All)

Heat the olive oil in your biggest skillet or pan over medium heat. Don’t wait too long—if the sausage is frozen like mine sometimes is, just whack it in and turn the heat up a smidge. Brown it off, tossing around until it’s looking golden and smelling good. Remove to a plate. (Yes, you’ll need it again in a minute. Every time I forget, and then have to scramble.)
In the same pan, add the onion and garlic. Stir and let them soften up, about 2-3 minutes—this is where I usually start nibbling the sausage. If it looks a bit brown at the edges, that’s just more flavor, honestly.

Toss in the orzo and give it a good stir, so it gets slicked in the oil and picks up all those brown bits (don’t worry if it looks a smidge dry right now—it drinks up the broth later, promise).
Pour in the chicken broth; then give it a big stir. Bring it up to a simmer (not a wild boil or it’ll go starchy fast), cover loosely, and cook for 5 minutes. Then stir in the broccoli. If you're using frozen, no need to thaw; just break it up a bit. Cook another 6-8 minutes, giving it the odd stir so nothing sticks. If it gets too dry—just splash in a bit more water or broth. Or, sometimes I just put the lid on and hope for the best—mostly works out.
Return the sausage to the pan. Stir it in, chuck in the parmesan and lemon zest if using, then let it all get cozy together for a couple minutes over low heat. Once the orzo is just tender, it’s ready.
Load it into bowls, top with more parmesan, and have at it. (This is when my partner brings out the hot sauce, but to each their own...)

Stuff I Wish I Knew (AKA: Notes From Many Attempts)

Covering the pan speeds up the orzo, but if you forget and leave it uncovered, just add another splash of broth; it’ll be fine.
If the bottom sticks a little, that’s the prized crispy stuff. Don’t scrape it all up—leave some for the lucky one who finds it!
I think it actually tastes better the next day (if it lasts, which almost never happens before someone spots it for lunch).

Let’s Talk About Twists (Some Worked, Some Flopped)

Once, I tried swapping in chorizo for the chicken sausage—it was delicious, but kinda overpowered the broccoli. Go easy!

I also tried adding sun-dried tomatoes. Not bad, but honestly, it tangled weirdly with the lemony thing. Just my two cents.
Subbed cheddar for parmesan in a pinch: good, but a bit heavier—like what you’d get at a greasy spoon café, which isn’t always a bad thing!

Do You Really Need Fancy Equipment?

So, I use my beloved big non-stick frying pan (thanks Mum for that Christmas present), but if you’ve only got a stockpot, go for it. Just try to stir well, and if things start to catch, lower the heat and add a dash more broth (or water, if you’re out of stock—you can sneak flavor in right at the end with more parmesan).

Chicken Sausage and Broccoli Orzo – Quick, Easy, and Packed with Flavor

How to Store It (If Anyone Lets You)

Stick leftovers in a sealed container in the fridge, and it’ll keep for up to 2 days. You can freeze it too, but it gets a little mushy when reheated—still fine for lunch. Though honestly, in my house, leftovers are about as mythical as unicorns (or a full bottle of olive oil).

What to Serve It With (Or Just Eat Straight Up)

If I’m feeling fancy, I serve this alongside a bit of whipped up side salad or some crusty bread, like from King Arthur’s simple bread recipe (which is almost as easy as this orzo, shockingly). My partner is a fiend for hot sauce, so there’s always some on the table. Sometimes I’ll even squeeze extra lemon over my bowl—it just brightens everything.

Pro Tips From My (Occasionally Stressful) Kitchen

I once tried to rush the orzo by cranking the heat and all I got was a gummy, sad mess—just let it simmer gently, or risk eating glue (ask me how I know...)

Adding too much parmesan all at once turns the orzo gluey. Sprinkle, taste, then add more if you like—it’s easy to go overboard.

FAQ – Real Questions, Real Answers (or at Least My Best Guess)

Can I use turkey sausage instead? Sure thing! Actually, it’s slightly leaner—may need a splash more oil. My friend swears by it.
Does it work with brown rice? Technically, but you’ll have to adjust cooking times—and add a lot more broth. The texture’s more chewy, for better or worse.
My orzo sticks together, what gives? Oops! Stir often, and add more broth if it’s looking thick. Or just embrace the clumps; sometimes it’s rustic?
Can you make this dairy free? Yup! Skip the parmesan (or use a vegan one—you do you) and maybe crank up the lemon to make up for flavor.

I don’t like broccoli. What else works? Swap in chopped spinach or peas, or even diced zucchini—my second cousin in Liverpool does this with asparagus, apparently, though I can’t vouch for that (yet).

Bit of a tangent, but you ever notice how, no matter how carefully you measure, orzo always multiplies? I swear, I start with a modest little pile and end up with enough to feed a rugby team. Maybe next time I’ll try to cut back, but who are we kidding—it’ll all get eaten anyway. Let me know if you try it, and, if yours comes out with less orzo overflow than mine, you get bragging rights!

Chicken Sausage and Broccoli Orzo – Quick, Easy, and Packed with Flavor