Basil, Chicken & Orzo Soup -- The Caldo I Left on a Stranger's Porch (My Daughter-in-Law's Porch)

The first week of Isabella's life and I have not held her. I have not held my granddaughter. She is seven days old and she has been held by her parents and the nurses and the pediatrician and I — her abuela, the woman who has fed every person in this family since before some of them were born — have not held her. I leave food on the porch in West Hartford. Arroz con pollo on Monday. Caldo de pollo on Tuesday. Habichuelas and rice on Wednesday. Pernil slices on Thursday. Alcapurrias on Friday. Every day I drive to their house and I leave the containers and I knock and I step back and Jenny opens the door with the baby in her arms and I see Isabella from ten feet away and Jenny says, Thank you, Carmen, the food is incredible, and I say, Of course, eat, you need to eat, and I get back in the car and I drive home and I am furious. I am furious at a virus for stealing the first week of my granddaughter's life from me. I am furious at the reasonable, the careful, the safe. I want to be unreasonable. I want to walk into that house and take that baby and hold her and feed her mother with my own hands the way mothers have fed new mothers since the beginning of feeding.

But I do not. Because the virus is real and the risk is real and Mami is eighty-three and immunocompromised and if I catch the virus I cannot visit Mami and if Mami catches the virus — I cannot finish that sentence. I cannot complete the thought. So I leave food on porches and I meet babies through car windows and I am furious and careful in equal measure, which is the specific hell of the pandemic: knowing that the right thing to do is the hardest thing to do, and doing it anyway, and the doing hurts like fire.

Lucas is two and does not understand why Abuela doesn't come inside anymore. He presses his face against the glass door and calls, Buela! Buela! and the sound of that word through glass is a weapon. It is the most effective weapon in the pandemic's arsenal: a two-year-old calling for his grandmother through a closed door. I will never forgive this virus for that sound. I will cook for this family every day for the rest of my life and it will not be enough to compensate for the sound of Lucas calling buela through glass.

Tuesday was always caldo day — not because I planned it that way at first, but because by Tuesday Jenny’s body was starting to feel the second night of no sleep and the baby blues were sitting on her chest and there is nothing in this world that moves through a closed door the way a warm soup can. This basil chicken and orzo is the closest I could get, in my kitchen, to the caldo my own mother made when I came home from the hospital with my babies: bright with herb, thick with rice-like pasta to hold the broth, built to restore a person from the inside out. I could not be in that house. But the soup could be. And I made it like I was going to be there to watch her eat every drop.

Basil, Chicken & Orzo Soup

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
• 3 stalks celery, sliced
• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
• 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 cup orzo pasta, uncooked
• 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, drained
• 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, roughly torn, plus more for serving
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• Grated Parmesan, for serving (optional)

Instructions

1. Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
2. Build the base. Add carrots and celery to the pot and stir to combine with the onion mixture. Cook for 3 minutes, until vegetables begin to soften slightly.
3. Add chicken and broth. Nestle the whole chicken breasts or thighs into the pot. Pour in the chicken broth and add the drained diced tomatoes, oregano, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
4. Poach the chicken. Simmer uncovered for 18–20 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and registers 165°F at the thickest part. Remove the chicken to a cutting board and let it rest for 5 minutes.
5. Cook the orzo. While the chicken rests, bring the broth back to a boil and stir in the orzo. Cook uncovered for 8–9 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the orzo is just tender. Note: orzo continues to absorb broth as it sits; if making ahead, slightly undercook it.
6. Shred and return. Use two forks to shred the rested chicken into bite-sized pieces. Return the shredded chicken to the pot and stir to combine.
7. Finish with basil and lemon. Remove the pot from heat. Stir in the torn fresh basil and the lemon juice. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
8. Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with additional fresh basil and a sprinkle of Parmesan if desired. Serve with crusty bread or over a scoop of white rice for a heartier meal.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg