Name: Roasted Eggplant Pasta
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 35 min
Total time: 55 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 1 large eggplant, cut into 1-inch cubes; 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided; 3/4 teaspoon salt; 1/2 teaspoon black pepper; 12 oz (340 g) penne or rigatoni pasta; 2 cups marinara sauce; 2 cloves garlic, minced; 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional); 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese, plus more for serving; 1/4 cup chopped fresh basil

Okay, So Why Am I Always Cooking This?

This Roasted Eggplant Pasta has saved my bacon more than once. (Not that there’s bacon in this recipe, although hmm… maybe one day?) The first time I made it, I totally forgot to salt the eggplant so the pieces were as soggy as a wet weekend in Manchester but, weirdly, nobody cared because the sauce is like a hug in a bowl. My sister still teases me about that dinner; she claims I invented eggplant pudding. Anyway, this became my go-to whenever it’s too hot to stand over the stove, or I just need to trick my family into eating their veggies. And honestly, roasted eggplant always feels a bit fancy, like I’ve upped my culinary game without actually making much effort.

Why You’ll Actually Love This One

I make this Roasted Eggplant Pasta when I (a) can’t face meat, (b) want something that reheats better than my will to exercise or (c) have way too many random tomatoes teetering on the edge of going off. My family goes nuts for it, especially since I started chucking in chunks of feta, and my cousin once said it’s better than anything from his favorite Italian restaurant—though, to be fair, that place microwaves its garlic bread. (And honestly, chopping eggplant is the only fiddly part; after that it’s just cozy and forgiving.) The only real trouble comes when I try to multitask and I end up getting little bits of eggplant stuck to my sleeves. Don’t worry, it comes off eventually.

Here’s the Ingredient Brain Dump

1 large eggplant (or 2 small—my local shop charges less for the little ones, go figure)
3 tbsp olive oil—sometimes I use the oil from a jar of sundried tomatoes, for extra ooomph
Handful of cherry tomatoes—or just chop up whatever tomatoes you have that are trying to become raisins on your countertop
3 cloves of garlic, squished or minced fine (I’ll admit, the jarred stuff works in a pinch, but the flavor’s not quite the same—my grandmother would be mortified, but…)
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (skip it if you don’t like heat—my nephew insists on “plain” but sneaks extra cheese instead)
3/4 lb (about 350g) dried pasta—penne, rigatoni, or shells, but I sometimes just grab what’s left in all the half-empty packs
Salt and pepper
Fresh basil, torn (full disclosure, I sometimes use parsley if that’s all I’ve got—nobody riots)
Optional: A handful of feta, goat cheese, or even parmesan

How I Actually Make It (Recipes With Some Wiggle Room)

Preheat your oven to about 220°C (425°F), or just crank it up to “pretty hot,” like you would for chips.
Chop the eggplant into cubes—aim for about an inch, but I always end up with some oddball pieces, and honestly that’s fine. Toss them in olive oil, salt and pepper. I scatter the cubes all over a baking tray (lined, but sometimes unlined if I can’t find the parchment paper).
Roast for 25–30 minutes, flipping halfway if you remember. (Confession: I usually forget, and it’s never been a disaster.) The eggplant might look kind of collapsed and weird at this stage—totally normal. This is where I usually sneak a piece and burn my tongue.
Meanwhile, cook your pasta in salted water till it’s al dente, or, you know, not quite mushy. Save half a mug of the pasta water before draining (I always almost forget this bit).
In a giant pan, gently sauté garlic and chili flakes in a splash of olive oil. Toss in the cherry tomatoes, cooking till they burst or at least slump down—the kitchen starts to smell incredible right about now. Sometimes I add a squeeze of tomato paste if the tomatoes aren’t that sweet. Actually, I find it works better if you let the tomatoes cook longer then squish them a bit with your spoon.
Stir in the roast eggplant along with your drained pasta, a splash of pasta water, and a good handful of torn basil. Add more salt and pepper. If you’re using cheese, crumble it in now—the feta goes all creamy and kind of dreamy.
Give everything a good toss—or a gentle stir if you’re feeling civilised. Taste and adjust anything you fancy. Then try not to eat it straight from the pot standing at the stove. Or do, I’m not judging.

Tricks I’ve Learned (aka Notes form My Kitchen)

Once I salted eggplant for an hour like Food Network said; honestly, I don’t see a huge difference. 20 minutes is probably enough, if you bother at all.
The pasta water thing? Yeah, it does help make the sauce stick, but not as life-changing as some blogs claim. (See for yourself!)
If you want it extra-savory, try adding a squeeze of lemon at the end—I only discovered this by accident.

Tinker Time: Variations That Actually Happened

Once I swapped in zucchini slices—came out more watery but not terrible.
Chunky canned tomatoes instead of fresh? No shame, it works on a cold night.
Chickpeas added with the eggplant make it oddly hearty. But kidney beans? Not my best idea.
I threw in kale once thinking I’d be virtuous. It was… fine. But maybe don’t bother unless you genuinely like kale.

Equipment Stuff (And Workarounds Because Life Happens)

So yes, a baking tray and a decent-sized pan make this easier. But I’ve managed with a battered roasting tin and a not-very nonstick pan. And I’ve even mixed everything up in a salad bowl when all my pots were dirty. If you don’t have a colander, just use a slotted spoon to fish out pasta—it’s not art, it’s dinner.

How Long Does This Keep? (It Won’t, Actually)

So technically, this keeps well in an airtight thing in the fridge for a couple days, though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! The leftovers are, if anything, even tastier—the eggplant sort of melts into the sauce. But don’t bother freezing it; pasta can get a bit sad coming back form the deep freeze.

How Do You Serve This? (The Fun Bit)

I pile the Roasted Eggplant Pasta into big bowls, shower extra cheese on top (and sometimes more chili flakes for myself, nobody else ever wants them). Sometimes I serve with a side of garlicky bread or—if I’m feeling very swish—a piled green salad. Growing up, my dad always poured a splash of red wine over his pasta at the table. I’m not recommending it, just sharing—families, eh?

Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way (Take These Pro Tips)

I once tried rushing the eggplant roasting by cranking the oven higher. Yeah, don’t. It goes from caramelized to charcoal way too quick.
Adding cheese while the pan is super hot? Sometimes just turns things stringy and odd. Let it cool a smidge first.
If you skimp on olive oil, the eggplant can turn dry and weird. More is really more here, trust me.

Wait, Can I…? (Actual FAQ from My Friends)

Can I make this gluten-free?
Yes, just use your preferred GF pasta. I’ve had good luck with the rice stuff, but it can get a bit sticky if you over-cook it. Oh, and check out this vegan pasta roundup for some nifty ideas.

Is peeling eggplant really needed?
Nah—I’ve tried both. Some folks swear by peeled, but I’m not that fussy. Plus, the skin adds a bit of texture (and, maybe, vitamins?).

Could I add meat?
Absolutely. I’ve added leftovers like roast chicken or even chopped-up sausage (preferably spicy) and it was great. Or check out Serious Eats’ meatier version for more inspiration.

Help, my eggplant is bitter! Did I mess up?
Nope, some eggplants are just moodier than others. Salting does help, but so does roasting hot and fast. I wouldn’t stress—most of the time, it comes out just fine.

Can I double this?
You can! Just spread the eggplant on two trays so it actually roasts and not… steams. (Made that mistake at a family reunion. Never again.)

And if you make too much, well, just send leftovers my way, yeah? Or let me know if you stumble on a cheese combo that beats feta—I’m all ears.

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And before I forget: if you’re as obsessed with Mediterranean veggies as I am, this whole round-up from Bon Appetit is worth bookmarking. Just saying.

That’s the long and winding story of my Roasted Eggplant Pasta. Hope it brings warmth to your kitchen—even if you’re cleaning up rogue eggplant cubes for days after. Bon appétit, mate!

Roasted Eggplant Pasta: A Chatty Home Cook’s Guide