My mom used to make this yummy, Parmesan-and-broccoli-flecked pasta a lot when we were growing up because it was a relatively painless way to get us kids to eat broccoli. And when I went to college, she packed up the recipe for me as part of a set of family recipes that she thought would be easy enough for me to make in my new apartment. This was one of the first dishes I had the courage to cook on my own, and it became a staple of my college years.

But leaving home isn't so easy. I remember the first time I set out to cook this in my new life. It wasn't until I was at the grocery store with recipe in hand that I realized that I couldn't actually read it: I never could read my mom's handwriting—I'm forever calling her up to ask her to translate her scrawl. But there I was, first time out, walking up to strangers in the supermarket asking, "Can you read this?"

These days, my friends have a habit of calling me from the supermarket at five p.m., looking for a suggestion for dinner. This is the recipe I give them because it's completely easy and if it's five o'clock and you're still in the supermarket, you can still be eating by six fifteen (assuming you don't live too far away).

Note that the broccoli cooks long enough to turn soft and buttery. When you work it all together with your wooden spoon—broccoli, olive oil, and cheese—the broccoli turns into the sauce.

Use a colander with fairly small holes (or a mesh strainer) so that the broccoli buds don't escape into the sink when you drain the pasta.