Creamy Tomato Pasta Basil

There's a particular Tuesday evening that comes to mind whenever I make this pasta—the kind of night where everything in the kitchen just clicks. My sister had dropped by unexpectedly, and I had maybe twenty minutes before we could eat. I reached for a can of tomatoes, some cream, and fresh basil from the windowsill, and what emerged was this silky, comforting sauce that somehow tasted like I'd been simmering it for hours. We ended up eating straight from the skillet, laughing about how something so simple could feel so indulgent.

I remember making this for my partner when he was having one of those exhausting work weeks—the kind where he'd come home mentally drained. Nothing fancy, but somehow the aroma of garlic and cream filling the kitchen seemed to shift the whole evening. He took one bite and just exhaled, like the tension was leaving his shoulders with each forkful.

Ingredients

• Penne or fusilli pasta (350 g): The ridges and spirals catch the cream sauce beautifully, holding onto every bit of flavor instead of letting it slide off.
• Olive oil (2 tbsp): Use a decent quality oil here—it's one of the first things you'll taste, and it sets the tone for the whole dish.
• Yellow onion (1 small, finely chopped): Chopping it small helps it dissolve into sweetness as it cooks, adding depth without any sharp edges.
• Garlic cloves (3, minced): Mince these finely so they distribute evenly throughout the sauce and don't leave you with surprise crunchy bits.
• Crushed tomatoes (400 g can): The backbone of the sauce—quality matters here, so grab a can you'd actually want to eat straight from.
• Heavy cream (120 ml): This is what transforms tangy tomato into something luxurious and velvety, so don't skip it or substitute with milk.
• Tomato paste (2 tbsp): A spoonful of concentrated tomato flavor that darkens and sweetens as it toasts in the oil, adding umami depth.
• Sugar (1 tsp): Just enough to balance the acidity of the tomatoes without making anything taste sweet.
• Salt and black pepper: Season gradually as you go—you can always add more, but you can't take it back.
• Red pepper flakes (optional pinch): A whisper of heat that wakes up the palate, but completely optional if you prefer gentle comfort.
• Fresh basil leaves (20 g, torn): Tear them by hand instead of chopping with a knife—bruising releases the aromatic oils without darkening the leaves.
• Parmesan cheese (30 g grated, plus extra): Freshly grated tastes sharper and more alive than pre-grated, and it melts into the sauce like silk.
• Unsalted butter (1 tbsp): This rounds out the sauce with a subtle richness that makes everything taste more polished.

Instructions

Get your water boiling and pasta cooking:

Fill a large pot about three-quarters full with water and bring it to a rolling boil—you want it actively bubbling before the pasta goes in. Salt it generously, like you're seasoning soup, then add the pasta and stir it a few times in the first minute so nothing sticks together. You're aiming for al dente, which means just slightly firm when you bite it.

Start building the sauce while pasta cooks:

Heat olive oil in your skillet over medium heat until it shimmers slightly. Add your finely chopped onion and let it soften for about 3 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally—you want it to turn translucent and sweet, not brown.

Add garlic and awaken the flavors:

Stir in your minced garlic and cook for just about a minute until you can smell it—this is the point where the kitchen starts smelling like actual cooking. Don't let it brown or it'll taste bitter.

Toast the tomato paste:

Add your tomato paste and let it sit in the oil for a minute, stirring occasionally. This step seems small but it concentrates the flavor and removes any tinny canned taste.

Build the tomato base:

Pour in your crushed tomatoes along with the sugar, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if you're using them. Give everything a good stir and let it simmer gently for 8 to 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes. The sauce should bubble lazily at the edges, not aggressively boil.

Introduce the cream and gentle heat:

Lower your heat to medium-low and pour in the heavy cream, stirring constantly so it incorporates smoothly. Simmer for another 2 to 3 minutes until the sauce looks silky and slightly thickened—you should see a subtle sheen.

Bring it all together:

Drain your pasta, reserving that pasta water in a measuring cup. Add the drained pasta directly to your sauce along with the Parmesan, butter, and about half of your torn basil. Toss everything gently but thoroughly, adding splashes of pasta water if the sauce seems too thick—you want it to coat the pasta, not drown it.

Plate and finish:

Divide the pasta into bowls or plates while it's still steaming, then top each portion with the remaining fresh basil and an extra shower of Parmesan. Serve immediately while everything is warm and the basil is still fragrant.

Save to Pinterest

I'll never forget watching my neighbor's face when she tasted this for the first time—she actually closed her eyes, and I realized then that food really can be a small moment of grace in someone's day. That's what this sauce does.

Why Pasta Water Is Your Secret Weapon

The starch in pasta water isn't a waste product—it's basically edible silk for your sauce. When you add a splash back into your finished pasta, it helps the cream and tomato cling to every strand instead of settling into a puddle at the bottom. I learned this the hard way after years of wondering why restaurant pasta always seemed to coat better than mine. Keep that water close by as you finish the dish, adding just a little at a time until the consistency looks right.

Making It Your Own

This recipe is a canvas, really—I've made it with sautéed mushrooms stirred in for earthiness, with fresh spinach for color and minerals, and once with a handful of caramelized garlic that made the whole thing taste almost sweet. The cream and basil are the anchors that keep it feeling like the same dish, but everything else is fair game. Some nights I add a pinch more red pepper flakes if I'm craving warmth, other times I go heavier on the basil if I want brightness.

Pairing and Serving Thoughts

This is the kind of pasta that deserves a chilled glass of something white and crisp—a Pinot Grigio or Vermentino lets the cream shine without competing with it. A simple green salad alongside cuts through the richness nicely, especially one with a sharp vinaigrette. If you're feeling bread-forward, tear up some crusty sourdough to soak up any sauce left in the bottom of the bowl because every last drop deserves to be eaten.

• Make sure your pasta is still hot when it hits the sauce, or the whole dish will feel tepid instead of comforting.
• If you're feeding a crowd, you can double the sauce and it keeps beautifully in the fridge for three days—just reheat it gently with a splash of water or cream.
• Taste everything at the end and adjust your salt one more time, because that's the moment you'll actually know what you need.

Save to Pinterest

This is the kind of recipe that reminds me why I love cooking in the first place—something simple enough for a random Tuesday, but delicious enough to feel like a small celebration. Make it whenever you need comfort, and I promise it won't disappoint.