So, Let Me Tell You About My Warm Pumpkin Pasta with Spinach and Ricotta

You know those chilly evenings when all you want is a big, comforting bowl of something warm, but you also can't be bothered to spend forever in the kitchen? That's when I make this warm pumpkin pasta with spinach and ricotta. I first made it on a whim one October when I had half a can of pumpkin left over (from a failed attempt at pumpkin muffins, but let's not go there), and I sort of tossed it into the pasta sauce with some spinach that was on its last legs. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much, but it turned out way better than some of my ‘proper’ recipes. Now, it’s become one of those dishes my family asks for by name. Even my cousin who ‘doesn’t do vegetables’ will go back for seconds. Go figure!

Why You’ll Love Making This

I make this when I’m craving something creamy but not too heavy (though, full disclosure, I usually add extra cheese).
My family goes crazy for this because it’s colourful and feels fancy, even if it’s just us in pyjamas.
If you’re not a fan of washing up, good news: you can do most of this in one pot. (I used to fuss around with extra pans, but seriously, why?)
I actually had a disaster once when I tried to use only pumpkin, no ricotta—don’t do that, it turns out kind of...sad?

What You’ll Need (and What You Can Swap)

250g pasta (I like penne or rigatoni; but spaghetti works fine. My gran always used penne, says the sauce clings better, I just use whatever’s on hand.)
1 tablespoon olive oil (or a knob of butter if that’s your fancy)
2 cloves garlic, minced (sometimes I use that pre-minced stuff from the jar—don’t judge!)
1 small onion, diced (skip if you’re in a rush, I often do)
1 cup pumpkin puree (canned is easiest, but you can roast your own if you’re feeling ambitious)
½ cup veggie or chicken broth (water in a pinch, but broth’s tastier)
2 large handfuls baby spinach (or frozen spinach, just thaw and squeeze out water; kale is okay but more chewy)
½ cup ricotta cheese (I’ve tried cottage cheese. It’s OK, but not as creamy. My partner prefers ricotta so that’s what I go with.)
¼ cup grated parmesan (totally optional, but I’m a cheese fiend)
Salt and black pepper to taste (I tend to be heavy-handed—oops)
Pinch of nutmeg (absolutely optional, but it adds a nice warmth)
Red pepper flakes (optional, for a bit of zip)

How I Actually Make It (With Honest Tips!)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook your pasta until just al dente (check the packet but sometimes I taste a piece around the 8-minute mark). Save about a mugful of pasta water before you drain! I forget all the time and then regret it.
Meanwhile, in a big-ish pan or the same pot (if you drained the pasta), heat olive oil over medium. Chuck in the onion and cook for about 3 minutes until it’s soft-ish. Add minced garlic and cook another minute or so. Don’t let it burn; burnt garlic is the worst.
Add pumpkin puree, broth, and a pinch of nutmeg. Stir. At this stage, it looks weirdly thick and orange. Don’t worry, it’s normal. Let it bubble gently for 2-3 minutes.
Tumble in the spinach and stir until it wilts. If you’re using frozen spinach, make sure you’ve mushed out all the water—I’ve made the mistake of skipping this and ended up with swampy sauce.
Spoon in ricotta and most of the parmesan, saving some for topping. Stir gently to combine. If the sauce feels too thick, splash in some reserved pasta water. This is where I always sneak a taste—sometimes it needs more salt or a pinch more nutmeg.
Add drained pasta to the sauce. Toss to coat everything. Taste again. Pepper, salt, more cheese? Up to you. If you want it a bit spicy, now’s the time for a pinch of red pepper flakes (or not, if you’re feeding spice-averse folks).
Spoon into bowls, top with the last of the parmesan, maybe a few extra blobs of ricotta if you’re feeling generous. Eat it straightaway, preferably curled up on the couch.

Stuff I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)

If you use pumpkin pie filling by accident, it’s mega sweet. Don’t do it (unless you like weird pasta—my brother did, but he’s odd).
Letting the sauce sit for a couple of minutes before mixing in the pasta makes it taste richer. No idea why.
Pasta water truly does help make the sauce silky. For ages I thought it was a myth, but it isn’t.

Experimenting: Variations That Actually Work (and One That Didn’t)

Swapped spinach for chopped kale once—decent, but a bit chewier. I added a smidge more broth.
Added cooked chicken breast for extra protein. Good for leftovers.
Tried with goat cheese instead of ricotta. It’s tangy and nice if you like goat cheese, but my youngest made a face.
Once tossed in roasted mushrooms. That was unexpectedly great.
Subbed butternut squash for pumpkin once (blended). Tasted just as good, honestly.
I tried roasting garlic instead of using it fresh, but it kind of gets lost—you can skip that step.

What You’ll Need (And What If You Don’t Have It)

Large pot (if you only have a medium one, cook the pasta first, then the sauce. I’ve done the swaperoo more than once.)
Colander for draining (or, I’ve used a slotted spoon in a pinch—just be careful).
Wooden spoon or spatula (I lost mine for a week and used a regular table fork. It works.)
Cheese grater (but you can buy pre-grated, it’s fine. I won’t judge!)

Warm Pumpkin Pasta with Spinach and Ricotta

How to Store It (But It Won’t Last Long)

Stick leftovers in a lidded container in the fridge. Should be fine for up to 2 days, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. This actually tastes even better the next day, a bit like how lasagne gets richer. Warm it gently in the microwave or on the hob (UK folks, that’s the stovetop)—add a splash of water if it’s thick.

How We Serve It (And Why My Family Fights Over the Last Spoonful)

I like to serve this with a green salad and maybe some garlic bread, if I’m feeling fancy. Once my partner served it with roasted Brussels sprouts, which was surprisingly good. My family tradition is to let everyone add extra cheese at the table. Sometimes we argue (lovingly) over who gets the last bit scraped form the pot—it’s that sort of meal.

Things I’ve Learned Not to Rush (Pro Tips, Kind Of)

I once tried rushing the pasta—ended up with gluey noodles. Just wait, it’s better.
If you skimp on the ricotta, it’s not as creamy. I tried using half once to be ‘healthy’ but everyone noticed.
Don’t forget to taste as you go—every can of pumpkin is a little different.

Your Questions (And My Honest Answers)

Can I freeze this? Honestly, it’s not the best. The ricotta gets weird. But if you’re desperate, try it—just lower expectations.
Is canned pumpkin healthy? Sure, it counts as a veggie in my book. Check out the BBC’s pumpkin nutrition guide if you want the science!
Can I make this vegan? I haven’t tried, but I know people swap ricotta for vegan cream cheese and it sort of works. Let me know if you do—I’m curious!
What’s the best pasta shape? I like short ones, but use what you’ve got. No stress. There’s an epic pasta shape guide here if you’re into that sort of thing.
How do I avoid watery sauce? Squeeze your spinach well, and only add a bit of pasta water at a time. I’ve poured the whole mug in before—not recommended!

Oh, and if you want to see someone else’s take, Half Baked Harvest does a killer pumpkin pasta too. Always interesting to compare.

Anyway, if you give this a try, let me know if you find a fun twist. I’m always up for experimenting, and I promise not to take it personally if you use way more cheese than I do (honestly, who could blame you?).

Warm Pumpkin Pasta with Spinach and Ricotta