So, Let Me Tell You About This Tuscan Chicken Bake with Pasta

Alright, pull up a chair! I have to spill about this Tuscan Chicken Bake with Pasta because it’s the recipe I make when I don’t know what else to do—like, last Thursday, when the fridge looked like a sad winter cupboard and the only green thing I found was a slightly wilty spinach bag (which actually turned out fine in the end, promise). My kids call this my “Italy-in-a-pan” dinner, and sure, it’s not authentic Tuscan, but it does hit the spot, especially paired with a big glass of whatever wine happens to be open.

Why You'll Love This (Trust Me!)

I whip this up when I’m craving something both hearty and lazy (you know, the nights you want to eat well but also don’t want to babysit a saucepan). My family goes bonkers for the cheesy top and creamy sauce—honestly, the first time I made it, my youngest picked out the sun-dried tomatoes, but now he’s come around. Sometimes, if I’m feeling extra, I’ll toss in a handful of olives (the good ones, not those rubbery things from a can). Oh, and genuinely—this is forgiving. Forget to sauté the garlic first? Eh, it still works out. Actually, last time I did that, it tasted even better. Go figure.

Here's What You'll Need (And What You Can Swap In)

2-3 chicken breasts (or thighs—I actually prefer thighs for flavor, but breasts were on sale!)
250g (about 9 oz) penne or rigatoni pasta (I sometimes use fusilli because it grabs the sauce better. Or whatever’s in the cupboard, honestly)
1 cup jarred sun-dried tomatoes, drained & sliced (if you don’t have these, roasted red peppers work surprisingly well)
3 cups baby spinach (or frozen spinach, just squeeze out the water. My grandma always used kale, but… well… spinch is easier)
1 small onion, chopped (red or yellow, or even shallots if you’re feeling posh)
3 cloves garlic, minced (I admit, sometimes it’s the pre-minced kind)
1 cup heavy cream (have used half-and-half in a pinch; just don’t use skim milk, it gets sad)
1 cup chicken stock (cube or homemade, no shame here)
½ cup grated parmesan, plus more for topping (honestly, any hard cheese works if you’re in a bind)
1 cup shredded mozzarella (provolone is nice, too, but not necessary)
1 tablespoon Italian seasoning (or a mix of oregano, basil, thyme—no need to measure perfectly)
Salt and black pepper, to taste
A glug of olive oil (technical term)

Let's Get Cooking! (Do It My Way, Or Your Way)

Preheat your oven to 200°C (about 400°F). Or don't—I forget sometimes and just crank it up when I remember.
Get a big pot of salted water boiling and cook your pasta until almost done—like, a smidge under al dente. It'll finish in the oven. Drain and toss with a bit of olive oil so it doesn't glue together.
Meanwhile, heat a splash of olive oil in a large skillet. Season your chicken generously (I mean, more than seems reasonable) with salt, pepper, and half the Italian seasoning. Sear both sides until golden—don’t worry if it’s not cooked through, it finishes baking later. Remove from the pan and slice into bite-sized bits or just shred it, depending on what kinda day you’re having.
In the same pan (don’t bother washing it yet—it’s all flavor), toss in your onion and cook until soft. Add garlic for the last minute. If anything’s sticking, pour in a splash of stock to rescue it.
Pour in the rest of the chicken stock and cream, stir in the sun-dried tomatoes, spinach (it’ll look like too much but wilts quickly!), parmesan, and the rest of the seasoning. Let it bubble for 3-4 minutes. I usually sneak a spoonful here—just to check seasoning, of course. Don’t worry if it seems runny; it thickens in the oven.
Combine the cooked pasta, chicken, and sauce in a big casserole dish. Top with mozzarella and a bit more parmesan (or, like, a mountain if you want crusty cheese bits—it’s your dinner). I sometimes add breadcrumbs for crunch, though my eldest says it’s “too much.”
Bake uncovered for about 20 minutes, until bubbly and golden. And if it’s not browned enough? Crank it under the broiler for a couple minutes, but don't walk away—learned that the hard way!

Notes from My Messy Kitchen

If you overcook the pasta, don’t sweat it—just call it rustic.
I used to think fresh herbs were a must, but honestly, dried ones work just fine.
This tastes even better the next day (if you can resist eating it all first go around).
One time, I forgot the mozzarella—everyone still loved it. Cheese is optional, but life is short.

Tried-and-Tested Variations (and Fails)

I swapped out chicken for leftover roast turkey once. Surprisingly good.
Added mushrooms for an earthier vibe; kids were unimpressed but I liked it.
Okay, anchovies sounded like a cool idea but…not for this dish! Save them for something else.
For a veggie version, I’ve used roasted cauliflower instead of chicken—tastes lovely but don’t expect the same richness.

What If You Don’t Have the Right Stuff?

If you don’t own a huge skillet, use any frying pan and just dump everything into the baking dish—honestly, I’ve even used a roasting tin once when all my dishes were dirty. Some folks use a Dutch oven for this, but I always forget mine at the back of the cupboard. And if you’re missing a cheese grater? Just break cheese into chunks. It melts. It’s fine.

Keeping Leftovers (If There Are Any)

This bake will keep in the fridge for 2-3 days, covered. Just reheat in the oven or zap it in the microwave. Though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—if you do have leftovers, try it cold for lunch. It’s not half bad! Freezing? I’ve done it, but the cream sauce splits sometimes. Not the end of the world, just give it a good stir.

How I Serve This Stuff

I like to plonk the dish right in the middle of the table, family-style, with a big salad on the side (or just a pile of rocket leaves with olive oil, if I’m being lazy). Occasionally, I’ll toast some crusty bread—my uncle insists you have to mop up the sauce. Once we even had it with chips (fries, if you’re not in the UK)—not traditional, but hey, we were hungry!

What I’ve Learned the Hard Way (AKA My Pro Tips)

Don’t rush the sauce; if you do, it ends up watery. I once tried to cut corners and, well, it was basically soup.
Use a big enough pan for the sauce—cleaning up a spillover is not fun.
Let the bake sit for five minutes before serving. Makes it less lava-like. I always forget and burn my tongue!
Actually, I find it works better if you gently fold the pasta and sauce together rather than just dumping—makes every bite saucy.

Real-Life Questions I’ve Been Asked (And My Honest Answers)

Can I make this ahead of time?: Yup, you can assemble it in the morning and bake at dinnertime. I’ve even left it overnight. Just add a splash of stock before baking if it looks dry.
Is there a gluten-free way to do this?: For sure—just use gluten-free pasta. I like the corn-based kind, but rice pasta works too. The sauce stays the same.
Do I have to use sun-dried tomatoes?: Nope. Regular cherry tomatoes, chopped and roasted, are nice too (check out this recipe from Bon Appétit if you’re curious).
How do I keep the chicken juicy?: Don’t overcook it in the pan—just sear and let the oven do the work. I used to cook it all the way through first, but it turned out dry as old boots.
Any sides you recommend?: Salad, bread (especially this no-knead bread from King Arthur Baking), or—on a cold night—a bowl of soup to start. Wine doesn’t hurt either.
Can I make it dairy-free?: Honestly, I haven’t tried, but friends swear by oat cream and vegan cheese. (If you do, let me know how it turns out!)

And as a weird aside: one night we forgot the pasta and just ate the chicken and sauce over potatoes. Not classic, but nobody complained!

Feeling inspired? Give it a go and let me know how it turns out. Or check out Serious Eats' take if you want something fancier—I won’t be offended!

Tuscan Chicken Bake with Pasta