Barilla® Penne with Pancetta, Peas and Parmesan Sauce

It's strange to think that on Sunday, I'll be celebrating my first Mother's Day as a mother. Strange because the more I think about it, the more I'm certain that moms are superheroes... and, I haven't checked the mail today, but no one has sent me my cape just yet.

Sure, giving birth to a child automatically throws you into the category of "mother", but the truth is there's so much more to the role that isn't related to biology. While some women become mothers through the physical act of labor {already a superhuman feat, in my opinion}, others adopt the role when they take children into their homes and hearts without so much as a second thought. The method by which one steps into the part is not nearly as important as what follows -- the exhibiting of those "super powers."

Because what follows is a fine balancing act of love and learning. Tenderness and toughness. Self esteem developing and character building. It's a task that requires enough sacrifice to better the life of another while maintaining a sense of self. It requires forgiveness even when you're angry, patience even when you're frazzled, strength even when you're fragile and confidence even when you're uncertain. All without the help of a handbook! Imagine.

My superhero mother after giving birth to all nearly-ten-pounds of me.

Only a mom can get everything done with very little time... so they must be able to freeze the clock when we're not looking. Moms can take a little bit of love and divide it among each of the people in their lives... and never run out. Magic. Not all moms are doctors...but they can heal wounds, mend broken hearts and stitch us together when we feel broken. Amazing.

Our mind-reading moms know when to step in and when to let us figure it out on our own; they can often tell when we need words of encouragement or when we need to be taken down a notch. Wise. They fly to our side when we call for help and assist us when there are villains who are trying to take us down. Daring.

Me & my older sister with my superhero aunt.

The truth is, moms aren't perfect...they're perfectly human, though you'd never guess it by their daily actions.  Now that I'm one myself, I know for a fact that they don't have all the answers, and that quite often, they're struggling with the questions themselves. But somehow -- whether they know a little or a lot -- they have the ability to make us feel like they've got it all under control.

"Superhero" Abuela & my son, Cole.

I've got a hard act to follow as I learn the ropes, but I can only hope that some of the "super powers" I've witnessed in my own mom and in the amazing women in my life rub off on me so I can keep the tradition going.

Practicing for my future role!

In the meantime, I'll wear my apron while I wait for my cape to arrive! :)

This sumptuous dish is surprisingly uncomplicated and so rich and decadent, perfect for celebrating some of the ladies that we admire!

Barilla® Penne {available at Walmart} makes the ideal vehicle for this rich Parmesan cream sauce. Pancetta adds a salty bite while tender peas sweeten up each mouthful -- it's a little bit of everything you love on a fork! {To be completely honest, I'm not normally a fan of peas, but they work so well here that I didn't give them a second thought!}

Whether you are a mom earning your cape, or are feasting in honor of those who have played an important role in your life, I hope your Mother's Day is filled with all things wonderful, including this sumptuous pasta dish!

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Barilla. The opinions and text are all mine.

Barilla® Penne with Pancetta, Peas and Parmesan Sauce

8 oz. Barilla® Penne Pasta
1 oz. diced pancetta
1-2 cloves garlic, finely minced
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup half & half
1/2 cup chicken broth
3 ounces shredded parmesan, plus extra for garnish
1 cup frozen peas
1/2 teaspoon dried mint or 1 teaspoon fresh mint

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add pasta and cook according to package directions.

2. Meanwhile, heat a deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add pancetta and cook until browned and crisp. Once cooked, remove pancetta with a slotted spoon and place onto a paper-lined plate to drain, keeping rendered fat in the skillet. {You may want to reserve a tiny bit for garnish.}

3. Reduce heat. To the fat in the skillet, add garlic and cook for just under a minute until fragrant. Add 2 tablespoons of flour and whisk until smooth; cook for about a minute. Pour in half & half while whisking to avoid lumps. Pour in chicken broth and whisk until mixture is mostly smooth, and allow to simmer and thicken slightly {about a minute}. Add Parmesan and whisk until mixture is smooth and cheese is melted.

4. Add frozen peas and mint to the cheese sauce -- the heat of the sauce will thaw out the peas and should only take a few minutes to heat them all the way through. Stir in cooked pancetta. When pasta is cooked, drain and add directly to the sauce, stirring gently to coat pasta.

Garnish with extra pancetta and cheese and serve hot!

Barilla® Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce

In honor of Mother's Day, I've got a recipe that's great for bringing all of the special women in your life -- both seasoned cooks and beginners -- into the kitchen. In my family, celebrating with food is one of the ultimate ways to show love and appreciation, and I can thank the ladies in my family for helping me cultivate my passion for food.

I often say my Abuela {grandma} taught me how to cook. But just recently, as I was standing at my kitchen sink measuring out water for a simple pot of rice, I realized that my claim is not entirely true.

I remember the exact moment I first asked Abuela how to make rice as I had watched her do so many times before. "Oh, it's easy," she told me in Spanish. "You just heat a splash of oil in a pot, then toss in your rice. Give it a good mix, and when it sizzles a little, add your liquid. Bring it to a boil, then lower the heat and let it simmer until it's cooked."

I paused for a moment and reflected thoughtfully on the information I felt I might be missing. "A splash of oil, you say? But how much is that?"

She lifted her hand up as if she were holding an invisible bottle of oil, tilted the bottle for a second -- just enough to measure out the correct amount needed as if she were counting beats of music in her head -- then pulled it upright again with a flourish.

I gave her a look. "Okay...but the water? How much?"

As patient as she always was with me, I could tell she was starting to grow slightly annoyed at my pestering over seemingly unimportant {to her} details when she had already given me a satisfactory answer to my initial question.

"Well... It depends on the amount of rice. But if you're making this much," she gestured with her hands to hold an imaginary pile of rice, "then I'd say about a cup and two fingers."

Wait a minute. I had heard of lot of measurements -- a pinch, a pat, a scant amount -- but I had never heard of measuring any ingredient in fingers. Well, except a stiff whiskey drink, and Abuela had never been a drinker.

I laughed at her directions, and she defended herself. "You asked me how I do it. And that's how I do it."

Accurate, perhaps, but hardly helpful for a novice in the kitchen. Regardless of my cluelessness and armed with meaningless measurements, I forged ahead and added rice to the (very short) list of items I "knew" how to make... in theory, anyway. Because the fact is that I had more attempts at making what my husband calls "Abuela Rice" than any individual who considers herself somewhat intelligent should.

We had sticky rice. Crunchy rice. Black-bottomed rice. Toasty rice, and rice masquerading as soup.
Each time, I'd do my best to channel Abuela, and each time I'd pretty much fail.

Until one day... I didn't. The day finally came when I lifted the lid off the pot, fluffed up the rice with a fork, and thought to myself, "Now this looks like something I recognize."

In my kitchen, "a cup and two fingers" of water (which translates by measurement into roughly 1 1/4 cups, in case you were wondering) will always be the rule of thumb... though that's not the finger I use for measuring! That's how my Abuela "taught" me to make it, even though most of the learning happened on my own. Maybe that's what she had intended from the beginning.

Since then, she's retired from her family cooking duties {she is 91 years old and only recently lost much of her mobility}, but she's entrusted me with other recipes that are special to my family and even given her seal of approval on my renditions, which she kindly passes off as delicious.

But I don't kid myself. No one can cook like Abuela. Some of us learn to cook while others are born with the ability to take food and create a little magic like Abuela always has.

Luckily, this recipe for Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce requires way less precision than Abuela's rice thanks to Barilla® Spaghetti. Chicken simmers away in a savory sauce with just a hint of spiciness, creating a tender-but-hearty addition to spaghetti. Easy to find at your local Walmart and even easier to cook, it's a pantry staple for fast family meals. Just a quick boil and you have delicious, al dente pasta that's perfect for pairing with seafood, veggies or chicken, as it is in this dish.

Celebrate togetherness this weekend gathered around the table!

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Barilla. The opinions and text are all mine.

Barilla Spaghetti with Chicken & Spicy Tomato Sauce 
Recipe provided by Barilla®

1 box Barilla® Spaghetti
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 chicken thighs, boneless diced into ½-inch pieces
1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves only, divided
1 jalapeño pepper, or to taste, sliced
½ cup white wine, dry (optional)
2 pounds plum tomatoes, crushed
Salt to taste
½ cup Cotija cheese, grated

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, in a skillet, brown the chicken thighs with ½ of the olive oil. Add ½ tablespoon oregano and jalapeño pepper; after one minute, stir in white wine (optional); reduce to half. Add tomatoes, one cup of water, season with salt and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, cook pasta according to package directions. Drain pasta and toss with sauce. Stir in remaining olive oil and cheese. Garnish with remaining oregano before serving.