Let’s Chat About This One Pan Creamy Pesto Chicken & Broccoli Pasta

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I want dinner to just sort of assemble itself, like a magic trick (preferably one where I don’t end up with a stack of extra dishes). That’s actually how this one pan creamy pesto chicken & broccoli pasta came to be in my house—back when I was juggling working late and the kids literally barking (like actual dogs, not kidding) for dinner. I’ve probably made this, oh, a hundred times, and, funny thing, it only tasted weird once—when I used that off-brand pesto my mate dropped off. (If you’re reading this, Cheers Josh! But, you know… stick to basil next time?)

Anyway, this recipe’s saved my hide more times than I can count. There’s something about all the green broccoli bits and creamy sauce clinging to twisty pasta that just feels like home, especially when everyone’s circling like hungry seagulls. I still make it too much. My neighbor once brought over a loaf of garlic bread as a joke and ended up staying for dinner, so I guess it’s got people-power.

Why I Keep Making This, Even When I Swear I Won’t

I’ll admit—I make this whenever the thought of cleaning another pot makes me want to move. There’s less mess, obviously, but it’s also one of those forgiving recipes. The chicken’s juicy, there’s pasta to soak up the sauce, and the broccoli makes me feel like I’m nailing my “healthy” goals (if you squint at it a bit). My family goes wild for it, and just when I think they’ve had enough, someone pipes up: “Mum, are you making the green pasta thing tonight?” And, honestly, it reheats well… probably because everything just sits together and gets all friendly in the fridge overnight.

For a while, my sauce would come out lumpy but I actually figured out why—skim milk. Just don’t. It’s worth the little extra fat, trust me. Also, don’t stress about the exact steps; I promise, this is not baking!

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

2 chicken breasts, sliced (some days I use thighs, or bits leftover form a roast – works a treat)
250g (give or take) pasta, penne or spirals – honestly, spaghetti will do in a pinch
2 cups broccoli florets (frozen in the back of the freezer? Go for it, the kids never notice)
3/4 cup pesto (homemade if you’re feeling posh, but usually I just grab the jar from Aldi; Grandma says it has to be Sacla, but, you know…)
1 cup cream (double cream if you’re feeling fancy, but regular pouring cream is fine too)
3 cloves garlic, chopped (or two, or garlic powder if you’re out)
1/2 cup grated parmesan (real stuff is gold, but bagged cheese gets a pass here)
1 tsp olive oil (butter works too, and I sometimes just do both – rebel!)
1 1/2 cups chicken stock or broth (or veggie stock, or honestly, water with a stock cube is fine)
Salt and pepper, to taste (I probably overpepper, but that’s just me)

Okay, Here’s How I Actually Get It Done

Start with a big, deep frying pan—not a shallow skillet unless you love pasta flinging itself across your hob. Splash in the olive oil and get it warm over medium-high. Toss in the chicken and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Let it get a bit golden; maybe 4-5 minutes per side. This is when I usually sneak a bit for “quality control.” Remove to a plate for now. (Try not to eat it all.)
Add your garlic straight into the pan—just for a minute so it smells punchy, not burnt. (If it goes brown, it’s no drama, just call it “deeply toasted.”)
Pour in your chicken stock and cream, then bring it up to a simmer. Scrape the bottom if there’s any chickeny bits stuck on, that’s all flavor, mate. (Don’t worry if it looks like a science experiment at this stage; it sorts itself out.)
Add in the pasta and broccoli all together. Squish it down so it’s mostly covered by the liquid—if not, splash in a bit more stock or water. Cover and simmer, stirring every now and then. Give it about 10-12 minutes, or until the pasta is just about cooked (I know, I know, the broccoli looks a bit over-cooked at this stage. But when you mix it, it actually blends in and gets all saucy. Trust me.)
Stir the chicken and any juice back in, let everything finish together—maybe another 2 or 3 minutes. Taste for seasoning (this is usually when I realize I forgot the salt and do a quick fix).
Take it off the heat, swirl in the pesto and parmesan—right at the end. Give it a good mix. It’ll look like too much sauce, but pasta drinks it up while you call everyone to the table. If it sits a tiny bit too long and goes thick, add a splash of milk. No drama.

All My Scrappy Notes (Don’t Skip These!)

If you’re using frozen broccoli, chuck it in halfway through so it doesn’t turn to mush (learned form a questionable incident involving green mush and suspicious toddlers).
Pasta shape really does matter—farfalle just doesn’t hold the sauce, but pipe rigate is weirdly perfect? Who knew.
If the sauce splits a bit, whisk in a spoonful of hot water and it’ll come back together about 80% (good enough, really).
Sometimes, for kicks, I add a handful of spinach right at the end—which my son dramatically pretends to hate, but he always eats anyway.

Tried-and-Tested (And Failed) Variations

I’ve tried swapping the chicken for shrimp. Tastes amazing; just remember shrimp cook way faster so throw them in with the pesto.
Mushrooms instead of broccoli—nice idea in theory, but turned everything brownish and no one touched it. Lesson learned. (Still, I liked it, so you might, too!)
If you’re dairy-free, coconut cream works, but the pesto needs to be dairy-free too—or it tastes a bit off.

Kit You’ll Want (But Workarounds Exist)

A good, big nonstick frying pan with a lid – but once I used a battered old casserole dish and just covered it with a dodgy bit of foil; still worked. (No lid? Use a tray or even a big plate.)
A sharp-ish knife. But in a real pinch, kitchen shears for the chicken and some broccoli breaking with your hands works fine (not that I’ve ever done that…?)

One Pan Creamy Pesto Chicken & Broccoli Pasta

How I Store Leftovers (If I Get Any)

This stuff actually keeps in a container in the fridge for about 2 days, maybe 3 if you trust your nose. Reheat gently so the sauce doesn’t seize (microwave is fine, but add a splash of milk). Though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. My partner’s usually lurking to finish it off before breakfast.

How I Like to Serve It

Mostly, I just dump a big spoonful in a bowl, extra parmesan on top, job done. Though if I’m feeling posh, some crusty bread to mop up the creamy bits does the trick. Oh, and a bowl of salad if I remember. My family once suggested garlic bread AND a green salad at the same time—honestly, decadent.

Little Lessons (Mostly Learned the Hard Way)

Don’t try to rush the pasta—if it’s not tender, it stays like that. I once tried to crank the heat to finish faster… just got a burnt bottom and chewy pasta for my trouble.
Letting the pesto cook too long dulls the flavor—swirl it in at the end, and you’ll get all that basil kick. I used to just dump it in before simmering, but actually, I find it works better if you wait.
Resist the urge to overcook the chicken at the start! It finishes in the sauce, so just get a bit of color on it and pull it out early.

Real Questions From My (Chatty) People

Can I make this with gluten-free pasta?
Yep, just keep an eye on it—the cooking time’s a bit different and sometimes it goes mushy fast. Maybe cook the pasta a minute less than you think you need.
Does this freeze well?
Ehh, I’ve tried. The sauce goes a bit weird but honestly, if you stir it super well after thawing with a dash of cream, it’s salvageable. Not my top pick, though.
Could I add more veggies?
Course! Peas, asparagus, spinach (though my youngest rolls his eyes). I tossed in kale one time—seemed like a good idea, but it was a bit much.
What about a vegetarian version?
Just swap the chicken for a tin of chickpeas or maybe roast some cauliflower chunks. Seen a similar trick in this good version on BBC Good Food.
Where do you get your pesto?
I grab jarred from the supermarket most days, but if you want to try homemade, this recipe from Cookie and Kate is dynamite (though I skip the pine nuts half the time).
Any way to make it lighter?
Use half cream and half milk, or swap out cream for light cream cheese. Taste is a bit less rich, but still great.

Phew! That’s longer than I thought—if you actually read all this, thanks for hanging in there. Hope you enjoy, and let me know any weird tweaks you try. (But maybe don’t tell me if you add ketchup. Yikes.)