Name: Mediterranean Pasta (One Pot!)
Prep time: 10 min
Cook time: 20 min
Total time: 30 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Mediterranean
Ingredients: 12 oz (340 g) penne pasta; 2 tbsp olive oil; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved; 1 red bell pepper, diced; 1 cup baby spinach leaves; 1/2 cup Kalamata olives, pitted and sliced; 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese; 2 1/2 cups vegetable broth; 1 tsp dried oregano; Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

This Mediterranean Pasta Always Reminds Me of Summer (Even in Rainy February)

Hey there! So—Mediterranean pasta. Where do I start? Let’s just say, I first stumbled into making this dish on one of those weird Wednesdays when my fridge was a wasteland (think: one sad tomato, a chunk of feta, and that ancient jar of olives glaring at me). But, honestly, I ended up loving it even more than the stuff I plan weeks in advance. There’s that sneaky feeling of accomplishment when you pull off a “wow” dinner with just a single pot and whatever’s hiding in the back of your fridge. Oh, and you only wash up once. Bonus!

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Pasta

I make this almost every time I want something that feels special but doesn’t require me to break out every pan I own (or, frankly, when my energy is stuck somewhere between a sloth and a moderately caffeinated squirrel). My family goes crazy for it because of all the punchy flavors—salty olives, bright lemon, and a cheerful pop of herbs. Plus, it doesn’t matter if you’re basically out of fresh veg; canned or jarred will do the trick. And let’s be honest, the real secret? Fewer dishes. Who has time for big cleanups mid-week? Not I.

What You’ll Need (And What I Use When I’ve Run Out)

300g dried pasta (I usually go with penne, but farfalle works! Actually, I once used spaghetti broken in half. Slightly chaotic. Still delicious.)
2-3 cloves garlic, minced – or garlic powder if your patience is thin
1 tin chopped tomatoes (400g) – Fresh is dreamy, but honestly, any basic store brand works fine. (My grandmother always insisted on Mutti, but you’ve got to use what you’ve got.)
1 red onion, sliced (or yellow, or even shallots if you’re feeling fancy)
1 handful black olives, pitted and halved (Kalamata is classic, but green olives make it brighter)
120g feta cheese, crumbled (Goat cheese if you want to be cheeky)
1 medium zucchini, sliced (Or no zucchini—it’s not a dealbreaker. I sometimes swap in spinach, even frozen, when I’m lazy.)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp dried oregano (or Italian herb mix if that’s all you’ve got left… We’ve all been there.)
Zest and juice of 1 lemon (Only have bottled? That works. Don’t stress!)
Salt and pepper to taste
Optional: sun-dried tomatoes, capers, artichoke hearts (run wild!)

How I Actually Make Mediterranean Pasta in One Pot

Grab your biggest pot (mine’s got a lid, but if yours wandered off into the great utensil abyss, tin foil works). Splash in your olive oil, toss in onion and garlic (don’t wait for it to heat up—the flavors just sort of meld if you’re doing things in a hurry, I swear).
Swoop in with the zucchini—and let it soften a bit, not too much (I once cooked it down to mush and nobody cried, but it’s better with a tiny bite). Add oregano and a sprinkle of salt. This is where I sneak a taste, mostly out of hunger.
Dump in the pasta (yep, uncooked!) and then pour over the tinned tomatoes and chuck in about 700ml water (roughly three big mugs; I eyeball it most days—add more if it looks thirsty). Stir.
Scatter in the olives. Bring to a simmer, slap the lid on, and let it cook over medium heat for 12–14 minutes. Stir now and then to stop sticking; don’t worry if it looks a bit soupy at this point—it thickens, promise.
Remove the lid and check the pasta. Give it another glug of water if it’s looking too thick or the pasta’s not cooked. If you’re using spinach, add it here—stir to wilt.
Turn off the heat; toss in crumbled feta, lemon zest, and juice. Stir. Taste. Add more pepper (and maybe a pinch of chili flakes—you know, if you’re feeling bold that evening).
Let it stand for a minute. The flavors kind of snuggle up together in that last bit. Serve with extra feta if you’ve got it. Or not! Whatever floats your boat.

Some Notes from My Endless Experiments

Actually, I find tomatoes with basil (from the can) give it a surprising twist, even though I used to avoid them
I recommend adding the feta at the end—once, I tried cooking it in from the start, and it turned oddly rubbery
Don’t be afraid of the pasta looking under-sauced after cooking; the toppings fix that. (But if you want it extra creamy, swirl in a spoonful of cream cheese! Not traditional, but very yum.)

Things I’ve Tried With This Recipe (Good & Not-So-Good)

I swapped out the feta for mini mozzarella balls once. Not bad, but it felt a bit like a pizza as pasta’s cousin—so, you know, fine but odd.
I’ve thrown in cooked chickpeas for a more hearty, sort of vegetarian Greek twist (actually, it was great!).
Tried stirring in pesto at the end, thinking it’d be brilliant. It kind of overpowered everything, though. Wouldn’t do that again.

Stuff I Use—But Here’s a Workaround If You Don’t Have It

Big pot (5L is nice) – But I’ve been known to split the batch into two smaller saucepans when I had no choice.
Sharp knife (or, as my brother once demonstrated, a heavy spoon for rough chopping. Wouldn’t recommend unless you’re in a pinch!)
Lid for the pot, though tin foil works fine—or that sturdy dinner plate you never use

How Long Does This Actually Last?

Okay, so proper advice is: keep leftovers in the fridge, in an airtight box, for up to three days. But in my house, it rarely lasts more than 24 hours! The pasta absorbs more flavor if it sleeps overnight, though sometimes it’ll soak up the sauce, so I just splash in a bit of water before reheating (microwave or stovetop—no judgment).

How I Usually Serve It (Or, Honestly, Eat Straight From the Pot)

This is fab with a crisp green salad and maybe—on a posh day—a chunk of rustic bread on the side to mop up the last bits. My daughter douses hers with extra lemon, and I tend to sprinkle a tear more chili flakes than necessary. Sometimes, we plop it right into bowl, cozy up, and eat cross-legged on the sofa (which always feels like a tiny act of rebellion).

Some Pro Tips—Learned the Hard Way

I once tried adding the lemon juice at the start, thinking it would infuse the whole pasta. Nope—went weirdly bitter. So, squeeze at the end!
It’s tempting to crank up the heat to make things cook faster, but actually, the pasta sticks like glue if you do. Keep it medium and stir. (Seriously—scraping stuck pasta off the bottom is a form of penance I wouldn’t recommend.)
Don’t overcrowd with too many veggies; I once went wild and added artichokes, beans, and mushrooms… It turned a bit soupy and confused. Keep it simple.

Random FAQ—Because Friends Actually Do Ask These

Can I freeze this?: I mean, technically yes… but the pasta can go a bit mushy. If you’re in a pinch, sure, but it’s way better fresh or after a day in the fridge.
Is there a gluten-free version?: Just use your fave gluten-free pasta. I’ve tried it; actually, it holds up pretty well in the one-pot method! (Don’t overcook it, though—it does tend to get a bit sad.)
What if I don’t have feta?: Mozzarella, goat cheese or even firm ricotta will do in a pinch, but the feta twang is tough to beat.
Do I have to use olives?: Nah. Skip ‘em if you’re not a fan. Capers are a fair swap, or you can lean into the veggies instead.
Where can I find really good olive oil?: I get asked this surprisingly often! I like Tree Olive Oil for special occasions, but any decent extra virgin works fine for weeknight cooking.
Where can I learn more about Mediterranean flavor combos?: Oh, I love Serious Eats’ Mediterranean roundup for inspiration. You’ll want to branch out after this pasta!

I’ll stop myself there, before I spiral into a full-on monologue about olives (don’t even get me started on the ones stuffed with almonds…). Enjoy your pasta adventure!

Mediterranean Pasta (One Pot!): Cozy, Easy, Real-Life Recipe