Name: Spicy Italian Sausage Pasta
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 25 min
Total time: 40 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 12 oz penne pasta; 1 lb spicy Italian sausage, casings removed; 1 tbsp olive oil; 1 medium onion, diced; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 1 can (14 oz) crushed tomatoes; 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes; 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese; 1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped; Salt and black pepper to taste

It’s Pasta Night! (Again? Yes, always…)

Alright, let me tell you: spicy Italian sausage pasta is my undefeated dinner champion—especially on those nights when the fridge is a minefield of leftovers I don’t wanna touch, and honestly, I just need food that doesn’t judge me for eating straight from the pan. The first time I made this was after a truly rough Tuesday (don’t ask), and it came out so wild and saucy that I’ve been coming back ever since. My cousin Tony once tried to help, but, well, let’s just say his definition of “al dente” is creatively loose. But hey, memories are half the flavor, right?

Why This Pasta Makes Me (and My Family) Happy

I make this when I want to impress people, but I’m also secretly tired—because, honestly, it tastes like way more effort than it is. My family goes crazy for this because it’s spicy, meaty, messy (kids LOVE the slurping), and I can tweak the heat for my spice-phobic neighbor Linda, who once described black pepper as “borderline dangerous.” If you’ve ever suffered through bland pasta, this sauce is like a slap in the tastebuds (the good kind).

There was a time I accidentally overloaded the chili flakes and everyone just drank extra wine and craned their necks for water. So, yeah, use your judgment!

What You’ll Need—With Secret Swaps

12 oz (about 340g) spicy Italian sausage (pork, chicken, or honestly, whatever your store calls “hot links”—that works too!)
1 medium onion, diced (if you can’t be bothered—shallots, or pre-chopped stuff from the shop work)
3 garlic cloves, minced (I’m a sucker for more but up to you)
2 tbsp olive oil (my grandmother swore by Bertolli, but it’s all tasty)
1/4 tsp chili flakes (or a bit more, depending how reckless you’re feeling)
1 can (400g/14oz) diced tomatoes (San Marzano are fancy, but store-brand is fine)
1/2 cup cream (I use half-and-half when I’m pretending to be healthy, or none at all for a lighter version)
12 oz pasta (penne or rigatoni hold up great, but spaghetti totally works in a pinch)
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Generous handful of fresh basil, roughly torn (but don’t stress if you only have dried—just use less!)
Grated parmesan cheese, for serving (or just whatever hard cheese is rattling round your fridge)

Making the Magic Happen (Step by Step… or Close Enough)

Sizzle your sausage. Heat up a big skillet, splash in the olive oil, and toss in the sausage (out of the casing, crumbled up). Fry on medium, breaking it up. Let it get those brown, crispy bits—don’t rush; that’s all the flavor. (This is where I sneak a bite, don’t tell!)
Add onion and garlic. Chuck in the diced onion and let it go soft—5 minutes, maybe? Then add garlic. Just a minute; burned garlic tastes like sadness.
Bring the fire. Sprinkle on chili flakes, stir them through for a second—your nose’ll know when it’s working.
Tomato time. Pour in the diced tomatoes, use the can to splash in a little water (waste not), scrape up the spicy goodness from the pan. Let this bubble along for 10 minutes. Don’t worry if it looks a bit weird—the cream will fix it. Stir occasionally or, like me, forget for several minutes and panic when it splatters.
Get your pasta going. Meanwhile, cook pasta as the box says. Salt the water a bit more than you think—makes a difference. Reserve a mugful of pasta water, promise you’ll thank me later.
Finish the sauce. Lower heat, swirl in the cream (or none, up to you). If it’s super thick, add a splash of your reserved pasta water. Season with salt and pepper—taste, adjust, maybe overdo it, realize your mistake, correct.
Toss it together. Drain pasta, throw it in the sauce. Toss it until everything’s hugging like best mates at the pub. If it seems dry, add more pasta water. Stir in basil.
Serve and enjoy! Heap it onto plates, loads of parmesan, maybe an extra grind of black pepper. Stand back and admire your handiwork (or just dig in, it’s not an art show).

Things I’ve Learned Along the Way (aka: Notes)

If you forget to reserve pasta water, a splash of plain hot water will do—but somehow it’s just, I dunno, less magical?
I sometimes swap in turkey or even veggie sausage; it’s still good, but the flavor’s a bit less punchy. Balance with extra herbs.
Actually, I find the sauce tastes even deeper the next day. If you can resist eating it all, leftovers rule.
The pan does not need to be fancy—my old nonstick thing with a slightly dented bottom does the trick.

Twists I’ve Tried—Some Worked, Some… Didn’t

Once, I threw in a splash of red wine with the tomatoes; total gamechanger. The sauce went all rich and cozy. Highly recommend, unless you’re out of wine, which… I usually am.
I’ve tossed in spinach at the last minute for a hint of “health”—it just wilts in, nice and sneaky.
One time I swapped out sausage for leftover roast chicken—let’s just say, not my best. It kinda disappeared in the sauce.

Stuff You Might Use—But Don’t Sweat It

Big skillet or sauté pan—anything wide. If all you’ve got is a large saucepan, it’s fine. Mine wobbles on the hob but still works.
Wooden spoon (or whatever you can poke and stir with—I used a spatula once when everything else was in the wash)
Pasta pot, colander, and a mug for that precious pasta water (though a coffee cup works in a pinch)

Leftovers and Storage (Not That You’ll Have Any…)

Stick your extras in an airtight container in the fridge; it’ll keep for two days, maybe three. Though honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day! Reheat gently with a splash of water or cream to loosen it up.

What To Serve With (Or, How I Eat It)

We always have a crusty hunk of bread nearby—preferably smothered in too much butter. Sometimes a lonely salad, if I remember. And a glass of something red if it’s not a school night. If it’s a group, I put everything in the middle of the table and let people scoop for themselves (fights have broken out, so warn people!).

Pro Tips I Learned the Hard Way

I once tried rushing the sausage browning step; don’t—it’s where all the flavor lives. Take your time and let the sausage get messy and golden.
Don’t overcook the pasta “just a minute less than the package”—it really does make a difference (I used to think that was chef snobbery; I was wrong… painfully mushy wrong).

FAQs—The Real Ones

Can I make this less spicy? Yep! Use sweet Italian sausage instead, skip the chili flakes, or just use less. You won’t hurt my feelings.
Is this freezable? Actually, it freezes okay, but the cream can get a bit weird, kind of separates. If we’re talking leftovers, I usually just eat them cold (is that wrong?).
What if I only have dried basil? It’ll work—just use a bit since it’s stronger. Fresh is lush, but sometimes you gotta use what’s in the cupboard.
Do I have to use cream? Nope! Some folks (bless ’em) prefer it without. Even a blob of ricotta stirred through at the end works, I’m not picky.
Where do you get your sausage? If you’re in the UK, I buy mine from Sainsbury’s, but your local butcher is usually best. US folks, I’ve had good luck at Whole Foods or, surprisingly, Trader Joe’s.

And honestly, if you’ve read this far, you deserve a bowl of pasta. Or at least a biscuit. Oh—one last thing: I once tried eating this with chopsticks as a dare. Would not recommend, unless you’re better coordinated than me.