Name: Creamy Parmesan Chicken with Penne
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 25 min
Total time: 40 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces; 10 oz penne pasta; 2 tablespoons olive oil; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 1 cup heavy cream; 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese; 1 cup low-sodium chicken broth; 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning; Salt and black pepper to taste; 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley (optional, for garnish)

Pasta Nights That Make Me Feel Like a Superstar Chef

So, there’s this one dish I always pull out when I want to seem like I totally have my life together (even if, let’s be honest, I accidentally wore socks with holes in them all day). Creamy Parmesan Chicken with Penne is what I call my lazy love letter to comfort food. It all started when I had a leftover wedge of Parmesan in the fridge—honestly, from a cheese board I overcomplicated the weekend before—and some chicken that just needed a purpose. My family all but licked the plates clean; I nearly did, too, but then I remembered I’m supposed to be setting a good example. Ha!

Why You'll Love This

I make this when the week’s just been a bit much and I want something soul-soothing but don’t have the energy for something fussy. My kids go bonkers for it—plus, I’ll use this as an excuse to eat what, let’s be honest, is sauce-soaked cheese with pasta and call it dinner. You know that moment when you’re scraping the pan for leftovers post-dinner? (Yeah, me too; it’s basically my cardio.) I do have a minor gripe: grating Parmesan takes forever, but, trust me, the flavor is worth it—and I’ll sometimes cave and just buy the pre-grated stuff if I’m in too much of a hurry.

What's in It? (Aka: The Ingredients)

2 or 3 medium boneless, skinless chicken breasts (sometimes I use thighs—they’re juicier, but a bit messier to dice)
1 teaspoon garlic powder (my Nan swore by fresh garlic, but honestly, I reach for the powder when I’m running late)
½ teaspoon smoked paprika (or regular paprika works too—I once used chili powder and… not my best idea)
Salt and black pepper to taste (anything goes here; I just eyeball it)
2 tablespoons olive oil (but sunflower oil when I’ve run out, apparently it’s not the end of the world)
3 cloves garlic, minced (optional; I love the extra aroma but my kids used to complain, so now I sometimes skip it)
300g penne (honestly, any short pasta works—I even did this with rigatoni and nobody noticed)
1 cup chicken stock (cube or homemade, doesn’t really matter—as long as it’s hot)
1 cup heavy cream (half-and-half in a pinch, but it’s… less luscious)
1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese (please, please don’t use the stuff in the green can—but if you must, I won’t tell)
Handful of chopped fresh parsley (dried if it’s raining and you don’t feel like a west end walk to the shop)
Optional: A squeeze of lemon or a pinch of chili flakes for zing (I rarely bother, but every so often I get wild)

How I Actually Make This—Step by Step (ish)

Season & Sizzle: Dice up the chicken into bite-sized pieces; toss with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika. Heat up olive oil in your biggest pan (seriously, use something with higher sides—you’ll thank me later). Add the chicken and get it lovely and golden. Don’t crowd the pan or it’ll just steam—though if you do, it’ll still taste fine, just a bit ‘meh’ looking. Set aside.
Pasta Time: Boil your penne in salted water while the chicken cooks. Pro tip—save a cup of the starchy pasta water. (I forget at least half the time, but it really does fix a too-thick sauce.)
Sauce Nom-Nom: In the same pan, drop in minced garlic if you’re using it and let it hiss for about 30 seconds. Pour in hot chicken stock and heavy cream. Stir, scraping up the golden bits (which the French call ‘fond’ and I just call delicious stuck bits). Bring it to a simmer; don’t let it go full rolling boil or your cream can split—believe me, learned that from experience.
Cheese Glory: This is where I usually sneak a taste. Add in that glorious heap of Parmesan, stirring until melted and everything looks like liquid velvet. Sometimes it clumps, but when you toss in the drained pasta, it sorts itself out.
Unite: Return chicken (plus any juices) to the pan; add pasta and stir like you mean it so the sauce hugs each piece. If the sauce is too thick, loosen it with a splash (or a glug) of the reserved pasta water—start small, you can always add more. Taste. Tweak the salt. Maybe a squirt of lemon if you want another layer. Or don’t.
Finishing Touch: Scatter parsley generously. Some people grate extra Parmesan over the top—I’m ‘some people.’

Some Notes I’ve Learned the Hard Way

If you add all the cheese at once and it gets lumpy, just keep stirring; it’ll behave eventually.
Dried herbs are fine, but fresh parsley lifts the whole thing (except when I forgot to buy it, then nobody noticed anyway).
If you overcook the chicken, it goes a bit rubbery—but I’ve served it with extra sauce to disguise it. No complaints so far!

Variations (a Few Hits and One Miss)

Sometimes I swap the chicken for rotisserie leftovers, which honestly makes this comically fast.
Spinach stirred in at the end is nice—unless you overdo it and turn your creamy sauce green (not that I did that last week…).
Once tried sun-dried tomatoes, but they overpowered everything; wouldn’t do that again.
Sausage instead of chicken? Unexpectedly delicious.

Equipment (Don’t Fret If You’re Missing Stuff)

I use my big nonstick skillet (something I invested in after ‘sticky chicken apocalypse 2019’), but if you’ve only got a regular saucepan it does the trick too, just mind the splatters. Cheese grater is essential, unless you’ve got strong arms and a sharp knife for hacking up Parmesan—somehow more satisfying, though a bit much after a long day. Colander? Sure, but I’ve drained pasta with a pan lid more times than I’ll admit.

How I Store It (But, Y’know, It Never Survives Long…)

This keeps well in the fridge up to two days in an airtight container, but honestly, in my house I never get to test this claim properly. Reheat gently in a pan with a splash of milk or water. Doesn’t freeze all that well; the sauce splits a bit, but it’s edible if you don’t mind the texture being, I dunno, a bit funky?

How I Dish It Up—Our Traditions

I usually slap a big bowl in the center and let everyone dive in family style (makes me feel like an Italian mama, even though I’m from Manchester). Crusty bread is a must—carb on carb is my official comfort philosophy. Sometimes I serve a green salad, but that’s mainly just so it looks healthy for the Instagram photo.

Things I’ve Learned (Sometimes the Hard Way)

Don’t rush browning the chicken—it’s worth waiting for that color; once I dumped everything in at once and ended up with pale, sad meat. Never again.
If you use too much pasta water, sauce gets soupy real fast. Just start small.
Adding cheese too soon while a sauce’s bubbling? No, just, trust me, don’t. I did that and it went grainy; stir it off the heat a moment first.

Your Questions (Yes, These Are Real!)

"Can I make this with gluten-free pasta?" — Absolutely. I've done it for my cousin. Just keep an eye on cook time; it can go mushy quick.
"Is it okay to use pre-shredded Parmesan?" — Yeah, but it melts a little weird sometimes. If you’re not picky, that’s fine! Actually, fresh off the block tastes best.
"Can I use milk instead of cream?" — Sort of, but the result’s thinner and less, well, creamy. Maybe toss in extra cheese if you go down this road.
"What sides go with this?" — I always do garlic bread. And a side salad for the illusion of virtue. Oh—try roasted broccoli, it’s lush!
"Where can I get a good Parmesan?" — Local delis nearly always have something tasty; I sometimes order online from Ocado or Borough Cheese Company if I’m feeling fancy.
Oh, random tip: I once read that Italians never break their pasta, but I break penne in half if it won't fit in my pan. Sorry, Nonna.

Right, if you have any more questions, just shout (or email… or send a carrier pigeon, whatever works). Seriously, if you try this Creamy Parmesan Chicken with Penne, let me know how it goes. Unless you hate it, in which case… maybe don’t tell me? Kidding. Sort of.

Creamy Parmesan Chicken with Penne