Tuscan Chicken Mac and Cheese — The Mac That Made Calvin Pump His Fist

Summer has returned with the full force of an Alabama June, and I have surrendered to it as I do every year, with iced tea in one hand and a spatula in the other and the understanding that I will be damp from now until September. The kitchen is a furnace by noon, and I have adjusted my cooking schedule accordingly: heavy cooking happens before eight in the morning or after six in the evening. Between those hours I make cold things, plan things, and stand in front of the open refrigerator thinking about my life choices, which is a perfectly valid form of contemplation.

Marcus finished his junior year with honors. His final GPA came in and I will not share the exact number because a mother's pride should have some boundaries, but I will say it was high enough to make Calvin pump his fist at the dinner table, which is something Calvin does not do because Calvin is a dignified man who saves his fist-pumping for football and his son's report cards. Marcus grinned. I made mac and cheese. The mac and cheese was the fist pump I could eat.

Destiny is home for the summer and has already taken over the couch, the guest bathroom, and the left side of the refrigerator, which I allowed because a mother's refrigerator is a democracy only when the mother says it is, and I say it is. She is working part-time at a community mental health center this summer, which sounds heavy because it is heavy, and I am already planning the meals that will anchor her evenings — the comfort foods, the heavy foods, the foods that say: the world is hard but this kitchen is soft, and you can rest here.

CJ came for a weekend visit and looked better than he did in April. He has been eating more regularly, or so he says, and his face has filled out some. He ate three plates of my fried chicken on Sunday and I watched him with the satisfaction of a woman whose primary love language is feeding and whose primary diagnostic tool is the fullness of her children's cheeks. Full cheeks mean regular meals. Full cheeks mean somebody is okay. CJ's cheeks were full. He is okay.

Made a fresh cucumber salad from the garden because the cucumbers are coming in faster than I can pickle them and because cucumber salad is summer in a bowl. Cucumbers, red onion, tomatoes from the garden, a dressing of vinegar and oil and dill and a pinch of sugar. Simple. Cool. The kind of food that does not try to be anything other than what it is, which is refreshing in both the culinary and the philosophical sense. Sometimes food should just be food. Sometimes that is enough.

Watching CJ eat three plates of that fried chicken reminded me that my deepest instinct as a mother is to feed people back to wholeness—and once he was gone and the house was quiet again, I found myself wanting something that felt like that same kind of comfort but without the hours of standing over a fryer. This Tuscan Chicken Mac and Cheese is my answer to that particular kind of Sunday evening: rich and satisfying, the sort of meal that wraps around you, but made in one pot on the stove because sometimes you want to nurture without depleting yourself in the process. Here’s how I make it.

Tuscan Chicken Mac and Cheese (One Pot, Stove Top)

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1-inch cubes
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained and roughly chopped
• 2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 1/2 cups whole milk
• 3/4 cup heavy cream
• 12 oz elbow macaroni or cavatappi, uncooked
• 2 cups freshly shredded sharp cheddar cheese
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 cups baby spinach, loosely packed
• Crushed red pepper flakes, optional, for serving

Instructions

1. Season and sear the chicken. Toss chicken cubes with Italian seasoning, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken in a single layer and cook 4 to 5 minutes, turning once, until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
2. Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. In the same pot, add the minced garlic and sun-dried tomatoes. Cook 1 minute, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
3. Add liquid and pasta. Pour in the chicken broth, milk, and heavy cream. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat, then add the uncooked pasta. Stir well.
4. Cook the pasta. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently to prevent sticking, for 10 to 12 minutes or until the pasta is tender and has absorbed most of the liquid. The mixture should look slightly soupy — it will thicken as the cheese is added.
5. Make it cheesy. Remove the pot from heat. Stir in the shredded cheddar and Parmesan a handful at a time, stirring after each addition until fully melted and the sauce is smooth and creamy.
6. Finish and serve. Fold in the baby spinach and reserved chicken. Stir until the spinach is just wilted, about 1 minute. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Serve immediately, topped with red pepper flakes if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 61g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 540mg