Spicy Sausage Pasta Skillet - Iowa Girl Eats

Spicy Sausage Pasta Skillet - Iowa Girl Eats might be just the main course you are searching for. One serving contains 394 calories, 28g of protein, and 16g of fat. This recipe serves 6 and costs $1.8 per serving. Plenty of people made this recipe, and 133 would say it hit the spot. If you have pasta, pepper, half & half, and a few other ingredients on hand, you can make it. From preparation to the plate, this recipe takes around 45 minutes. It is brought to you by Iowa Girl Eats. Overall, this recipe earns a spectacular spoonacular score of 81%. Similar recipes are Sweet Apple Chicken Sausage Pasta (20 Minute Meal) - Iowa Girl Eats, Roasted" Garlic Chicken Skillet - Iowa Girl Eats, and Low-Carb Breakfast Skillet - Iowa Girl Eats.

Servings: 6

 

Ingredients:

4 cups baby spinach

2 cups chicken broth

1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup half & half

Parmesan cheese, for topping

8oz cut pasta (I used rotini)

pepper

2 large shallots or 1 small onion, chopped

12oz smoked turkey sausage, sliced

10oz Rotel

Equipment:

frying pan

Cooking instruction summary:

Heat oil in a large skillet (I used a 12" skillet) over medium-high heat. Add sausage and shallots then saute until sausage is slightly curled, about 5 minutes (do not over cook or sausage will become rubbery.) Add garlic then cook for 30 more seconds, stirring constantly.

Turn heat up to high then add chicken broth, tomatoes, half & half, and pepper. Mixure may look curdled, but it's fine. Bring to a boil then add pasta and stir to combine. Place a lid on top then simmer for 10 minutes, or until pasta is al dente, stirring once or twice. Add spinach then stir to combine and cook until wilted, about 1 minute. Serve topped with parmesan cheese.

 

Step by step:


1. Heat oil in a large skillet (I used a 12" skillet) over medium-high heat.

2. Add sausage and shallots then saute until sausage is slightly curled, about 5 minutes (do not over cook or sausage will become rubbery.)

3. Add garlic then cook for 30 more seconds, stirring constantly.Turn heat up to high then add chicken broth, tomatoes, half & half, and pepper.

4. Mixure may look curdled, but it's fine. Bring to a boil then add pasta and stir to combine.

5. Place a lid on top then simmer for 10 minutes, or until pasta is al dente, stirring once or twice.

6. Add spinach then stir to combine and cook until wilted, about 1 minute.

7. Serve topped with parmesan cheese.


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
424k Calories
29g Protein
16g Total Fat
39g Carbs
34% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
424k
21%

Fat
16g
25%

  Saturated Fat
7g
48%

Carbohydrates
39g
13%

  Sugar
6g
7%

Cholesterol
70mg
23%

Sodium
1138mg
50%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
29g
58%

Vitamin C
113mg
137%

Vitamin K
102µg
98%

Vitamin A
4613IU
92%

Phosphorus
454mg
45%

Selenium
31µg
45%

Calcium
444mg
44%

Manganese
0.74mg
37%

Vitamin B6
0.69mg
34%

Vitamin B3
4mg
25%

Vitamin B2
0.42mg
25%

Zinc
3mg
24%

Folate
92µg
23%

Potassium
738mg
21%

Vitamin B12
1µg
20%

Magnesium
78mg
20%

Iron
3mg
17%

Fiber
3g
16%

Vitamin E
2mg
15%

Copper
0.27mg
14%

Vitamin B5
1mg
13%

Vitamin B1
0.18mg
12%

Vitamin D
0.19µg
1%

covered percent of daily need
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Food Trivia

Death row inmates in Texas don't get to pick their last meal.

Food Joke

Calling in Sick... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower . "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

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