Winter Pasta with Sausage Fennel

There's something about fennel that stopped me in my tracks the first time I really tasted it in pasta—not the licorice-heavy punch I'd expected, but this gentle sweetness that emerged as it softened in the pan. I threw together sausage, olive oil, and whatever aromatics I had on a Tuesday night when the temperature had dropped and I wanted something warm without spending an hour at the stove. Twenty minutes later, I had a bowl of something so comforting that my partner asked for it twice that week.

I made this for friends on a cold Sunday when we were all too tired to go anywhere, and someone actually asked if I'd ordered it from somewhere. The way the fennel fronds scattered on top caught the kitchen light felt almost restaurant-like, but the truth was I'd just been standing at the stove with a wooden spoon, tasting and adjusting. That's when I realized this recipe works because it's honest—no pretense, just good ingredients doing what they do best.

Ingredients

• Short pasta (penne, rigatoni, or fusilli): 350 g (12 oz) of any shape works, though ridged tubes catch the sauce better than smooth ones—I learned this by accident when I grabbed fusilli once and everything tasted richer.
• Italian sausage: 250 g (9 oz) sweet or spicy, casings removed, or use plant-based if that's your preference; the browning is what matters, not the meat itself.
• Fennel bulb: 1 large one, trimmed and thinly sliced, as this is the star that transforms from raw and sharp to mellow and almost candy-like.
• Onion: 1 small one, thinly sliced, which adds gentle sweetness and helps the fennel do its thing.
• Garlic: 2 cloves, minced, though I've found that garlic added at the end (not the start) prevents bitterness and keeps things bright.
• Olive oil: 2 tbsp to start with, divided so you can cook the sausage separately and then build flavor in the same pan.
• Dry white wine: 60 ml (1/4 cup) optional, but it cuts through richness and picks up all those caramelized bits stuck to the pan.
• Crushed red pepper flakes: 1/2 tsp optional, added at the end so the heat stays on your tongue rather than overwhelming the delicate fennel.
• Parmesan cheese: 30 g (1/4 cup) grated, plus more for serving; vegetarian alternatives work well if that matters to you.
• Fennel fronds or fresh parsley: Chopped for garnish, and honestly, the fronds make this dish look like you tried harder than you did.
• Salt and black pepper: To taste, added in stages so you can control the salt level as the pasta water reduces.

Instructions

Get water boiling and pasta going:

Fill a large pot with salted water and bring it to a rolling boil—the water should taste almost like the sea. Add pasta and cook until al dente, then drain it while reserving 120 ml (1/2 cup) of that starchy water, which is going to be your secret ingredient for a silky sauce.

Brown the sausage (if using):

While water heats, add 1 tbsp olive oil to a large skillet over medium heat and crumble in the sausage, breaking it up with a spoon as it cooks for about 4–5 minutes until no pink remains and it's got some color. Transfer it to a plate and wipe the pan clean with a paper towel—you want fresh oil for the vegetables next.

Soften fennel and onion:

Add the remaining olive oil to the skillet, then add your sliced fennel and onion with a pinch of salt, cooking for 4–5 minutes until they're soft and the edges are turning golden and sweet. The kitchen will smell incredible at this point, almost like butter and honey.

Wake up the garlic:

Stir in the minced garlic and cook for just 1 minute until fragrant—no longer, or it'll turn bitter and harsh. This is a moment where you really pay attention, not multitask.

Deglaze if using wine:

Pour in the white wine if you're using it, scraping up all the browned bits stuck to the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon—that's where all the flavor lives. Let it simmer for 1–2 minutes until the smell changes and most of the alcohol has cooked off.

Bring everything together:

Return the sausage to the skillet, add the red pepper flakes if you're using them, and give everything a stir. Add the drained pasta along with that reserved pasta water, tossing gently until the starchy liquid coats everything in a light, creamy sauce.

Finish with cheese and taste:

Stir in the grated Parmesan, then taste and adjust salt and pepper—this is crucial because the pasta water carries salt too. Serve immediately with extra Parmesan scattered on top and a handful of fennel fronds or fresh parsley for color and freshness.

Pin It

I remember my mom tasting this and saying it reminded her of something she'd eaten at a little restaurant in Rome, which meant more to me than any recipe review could. Food that makes people pause and really taste it, that makes them remember other meals and moments—that's when you know you've made something worth making again.

The Fennel Question

If you're hesitant about fennel, I get it—the raw bulb smells assertive and anise-forward, almost medicinal. But something magical happens when it meets heat and time; the sharp edges soften into sweetness, almost like caramelized onions but lighter and more delicate. I've converted skeptics with this dish because fennel, when treated gently, becomes something entirely different from what you smell in the market.

Wine Matters (Even If Just a Little)

That splash of white wine isn't there to show off—it's there to balance the richness of sausage and cheese by adding brightness and acidity. If you don't drink wine or prefer not to cook with it, skip it entirely; the dish still works. But if you have a half-empty bottle of Pinot Grigio or something similar, this is an excellent way to use it up while making dinner taste like you spent more effort than you did.

Making It Your Own

This recipe is more template than dogma, which is exactly why it's become part of my regular rotation. I've added a handful of spinach at the end when I wanted greens, used spicy sausage when my mood called for heat, and once even added a dash of fresh lemon juice at the very end because I had one sitting on the counter.

• For vegetarian versions, simply leave out the sausage or use plant-based sausage; the fennel and Parmesan carry enough flavor that you won't miss it.
• A pinch of fresh lemon zest stirred in at the very end brightens everything without overwhelming the delicate fennel.
• Baby spinach or torn kale added in the last minute cooks down to nothing and adds nutrition without changing the character of the dish.

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This is the kind of pasta I make when I want comfort but don't want to spend my whole evening cooking—when winter's outside and the kitchen is warm and I want something that tastes like both home and a small Italian restaurant I once loved. You'll find yourself making it often once you realize how simple it really is.

Recipe FAQs

→ Can I make this vegetarian?

Yes, simply omit the sausage or use a plant-based alternative. Many vegetarian sausages work well in this dish and provide similar texture and savory flavor.

→ What type of pasta works best?

Short pasta shapes like penne, rigatoni, or fusilli are ideal because they catch the sauce and sausage pieces. Their ridges and tubes hold onto the light, aromatic coating.

→ Is the white wine necessary?

The wine helps deglaze the pan and adds depth, but it can be omitted. Simply add a splash more pasta water or a squeeze of lemon juice for brightness instead.

→ How do I store leftovers?

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Reheat gently with a splash of water or olive oil to revive the sauce's consistency.

→ Can I add extra vegetables?

Absolutely. Baby spinach, kale, or Swiss chard can be stirred in during the last minute of cooking. Diced bell peppers or sun-dried tomatoes also complement the fennel beautifully.

→ What can I substitute for fennel?

If you're not fond of fennel, try sliced celery with a pinch of fennel seeds, or use thinly sliced fennel for milder flavor. The unique anise note is worth experiencing at least once.