By Mama is recovering. The pneumonia responded to antibiotics — slowly, grudgingly, the way all enemies respond when they realize they're fighting Pearlie Mae Johnson. She was moved from Baptist Memorial back to the Whitehaven facility on Wednesday, weakened but alive, diminished but defiant. The cut on her forehead is healing into a thin scar that she examines in the mirror with the matter-of-fact assessment of a woman who has survived worse.
I made her chicken soup. Not from a can — from scratch, the way Mama made it for me when I was sick as a child, which was rarely because Johnson children were built like the house they grew up in: solid, drafty, hard to knock down. The soup: a whole chicken simmered for three hours with onion, celery, carrot, garlic, bay leaf, peppercorns, the broth turning golden and rich. I pulled the chicken, stripped the meat, returned it to the strained broth with fresh vegetables and egg noodles, and brought it to Whitehaven in a thermos, hot, and Mama ate a bowl and said, "Too much salt." Which means she's feeling better, because critiquing my cooking is the vital sign that matters most — when Mama stops criticizing, that's when I worry.
The weeks ahead: Mama will heal. The route will continue. The knee will be what it is. And March will come, and with March the anniversary, and with the anniversary the annual reckoning with the thing that doesn't heal, the room in my heart that stays locked, the daughter who stays gone. But for now, Mama is alive and criticizing my soup, and that is enough. That is everything.
I made Mama’s soup on a Tuesday, and by Thursday I was home alone and hungry in a way that chicken broth couldn’t touch — the kind of hungry that comes from weeks of waiting rooms and worry and holding yourself together in front of someone who needs you solid. So I pulled out the drumsticks I’d been meaning to use and did what I know how to do: I got something in the oven, I let the smoke fill the kitchen, and I sat at the table and let it be enough. These baked barbecue chicken drumsticks aren’t Mama’s recipe and they aren’t anybody’s medicine — they’re just good, uncomplicated, and mine.
Baked Barbecue Chicken Drumsticks
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 8 chicken drumsticks (about 3 lbs total)
- 1 cup barbecue sauce (your favorite brand or homemade)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil and set a wire rack on top. Lightly grease the rack.
- Season the drumsticks. Pat the chicken drumsticks dry with paper towels. In a large bowl, toss them with the olive oil, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, black pepper, salt, and cayenne if using, until evenly coated.
- Start baking. Arrange the drumsticks on the prepared rack in a single layer, not touching. Bake for 25 minutes, until the skin begins to crisp and the chicken is nearly cooked through.
- Apply the barbecue sauce. Remove the pan from the oven. Using a pastry brush or spoon, coat each drumstick generously with barbecue sauce on all sides.
- Finish under heat. Return the pan to the oven and bake for another 15–20 minutes, brushing with a second coat of sauce halfway through, until the glaze is caramelized and sticky and the internal temperature reaches 165°F at the thickest part.
- Rest before serving. Let the drumsticks rest on the rack for 5 minutes before plating. Serve with extra barbecue sauce on the side if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 780mg