I need to be honest right out of the gate: this Simple One-Skillet Chicken Alfredo Pasta exists because I was tired. Like Queens-train-delayed-again, grocery-bag-cutting-into-my-hand, “why is my phone at 2%” tired.
Simple One-Skillet Chicken Alfredo Pasta was one of those nights where cooking felt dramatic. Not hard, just… emotionally exhausting. You ever stare into your fridge like it personally betrayed you? Same.
I had chicken and pasta.
I had cream (don’t ask why—past me makes questionable grocery decisions).
And I absolutely did not want to wash more than one pan.
So this happened.
And now I make it all the time. Like, probably too often. But whatever. We’re adults. We can eat creamy pasta on a Tuesday.
Ingredients (But Make It Chill)
What I usually use:
- 2 chicken breasts, sliced kinda thin (or thighs—no judgment)
- Salt & pepper (generous, please)
- Garlic (2–4 cloves… or 6… who’s counting)
- Butter (a knob, a chunk, a vibe)
- Olive oil (just enough so things don’t stick)
- Heavy cream (about 1 cup, give or take)
- Chicken broth (another cup-ish)
- Pasta (penne, fettuccine, rotini—whatever you grabbed)
- Parmesan cheese (fresh is better, but I’ve used the green can at 9pm and lived)
- Optional extras: red pepper flakes, parsley, spinach, mushrooms, vibes
Step One: Cook the Chicken (Don’t Overthink It)
Heat your skillet. Medium-high. Add olive oil.
Season the chicken like you mean it. Salt. Pepper. Maybe garlic powder if you’re feeling wild.
Drop it in the pan and let it cook. Don’t poke it every three seconds. Let it get a little golden. Not burnt. Just… confident.
Flip. Cook through. Remove it from the pan.
Put it on a plate. Resist the urge to snack on it like a raccoon. (I fail this part sometimes.)
Step Two: Garlic Moment (Critical)
Lower the heat a bit.
Add butter. Let it melt. Add garlic.
Now listen closely: do not walk away.
Garlic burns faster than my motivation on a Monday. Stir it around. Smell it. When it smells like heaven and not regret—move on.
If you burn it? Start over. I’m serious. Burnt garlic will ruin your whole mood.
Step Three: The Sauce Begins (aka Trust the Process)
Pour in the chicken broth. Scrape up all those brown bits from the bottom of the pan. That’s flavor. That’s the good stuff.
Then add the cream.
Stir. Let it simmer gently.
Step Four: Pasta Goes Straight In (Yes, Really)
Break your pasta in half if needed so it fits. Toss it right into the sauce.
Add a little extra broth or water if it looks tight. You want the pasta just covered.
Cover the pan. Let it simmer. Stir occasionally so nothing sticks or stages a protest.
This part feels wrong the first time.
Step Five: Bring the Chicken Back (Like a Reunion Episode)
Once the pasta is tender—not mushy, tender—add the chicken back in.
Stir. Let everything warm together. This is where it starts looking like actual dinner instead of a science experiment.
Add Parmesan. Stir again. Watch it thicken.
Taste. Adjust. More salt? Probably. More cheese? Definitely.
Optional Add-Ins (Because Life Is About Choices)
Sometimes I throw in:
- Spinach (to feel like a responsible adult)
- Mushrooms (sautéed with the chicken)
- Red pepper flakes (because I like a little chaos)
- A squeeze of lemon at the end (don’t knock it)
Once I added broccoli and my friend said, “Who are you trying to impress?”
Fair.
Things I’ve Messed Up (So You Don’t Have To)
- Added cheese too early → grainy sauce
- Boiled too hard → sauce evaporated
- Underseasoned → sadness
- Ate straight from the pan → zero regrets
Cooking is messy. That’s fine.
Where This Fits Into Real Life
This is:
- Weeknight dinner
- “I don’t feel like trying” food
- “Friends are coming over but I forgot” food
- Leftovers-that-actually-get-eaten food
I’ve made it after long days, bad dates, good workouts, and once at 10:30pm because I forgot to eat dinner and suddenly my body remembered.
It always hits.
Final Thoughts about Simple One-Skillet Chicken Alfredo Pasta
I’ve written a lot of recipes. Some fancy. Some chaotic. This one? This one sticks around.
It’s not impressive in a “wow” way. It’s impressive in a you’ll make it again way.
And honestly, those are the recipes that matter.