← Back to Blog

Chicken and Olive Mole Casserole — When the Dried Chiles Finally Come From Your Own Garden

Made the chili Saturday. The finished recipe, the one from the spiral notebook, exactly as written. Home-dried anchos and guajillos from Mom's garden — the first year I've used my own dried chiles for it — elk shoulder in big pieces, the dark amber non-alcoholic beer, the canned whole tomatoes from August. Five hours, low heat, the lid on for the first three and off for the last two to let the liquid reduce and concentrate.

I'll say this once clearly, as a record: the home-dried chiles made a difference. The guajillo in particular had a freshness and complexity that the commercial dried chiles don't quite have. Not dramatically different — the structure of the recipe is what makes the chili what it is — but a layer of quality that comes through in the finish. Mom grew the right plant and I dried them right and that closed a loop I didn't know was open.

We ate it that night with Mom's cornbread and Dad had two bowls and I had two and a half. Tom Whelan came over, which has become a fall tradition without any ceremony marking the establishment of it. He had one bowl, carefully, and said: That's good chili. He doesn't offer praise easily and I know that. I said thank you. That was the right amount of acknowledgment for what he said.

The recipe is done. I wrote it in the notebook one more time, this time with the note: use own dried chiles when available. That's the final form of it. Everything that needed to be found has been found. Some projects close like that — not with a dramatic ending but with a small note in a spiral notebook that says: this is the one.

The moment Tom said that’s good chili and I said thank you, I knew the project had closed — but I also knew I’d be chasing that dried-chile depth in everything I cook from here on out. This chicken and olive mole casserole is where I go when I want to put those home-dried anchos and guajillos to work outside the notebook recipe — a slower, oven-built dish that lets the chiles carry the same complexity I found in the chili, layered now with dark chocolate and briny olives into something that feels just as complete. It’s not the spiral notebook recipe, but it belongs to the same education.

Chicken and Olive Mole Casserole

Prep Time: 35 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and drumsticks
  • 3 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
  • 2 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) whole tomatoes, with juices
  • 1 medium white onion, quartered
  • 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
  • 2 oz dark chocolate (70% cacao or higher), roughly chopped
  • 1/2 tsp ground cumin
  • 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp dried oregano
  • 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
  • 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, divided
  • 1 cup pitted green olives, halved
  • 2 tbsp vegetable oil
  • 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1 tbsp sesame seeds, toasted, for garnish
  • Fresh cilantro, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Toast and rehydrate the chiles. Heat a dry skillet over medium heat. Toast the ancho and guajillo chiles one at a time, pressing them flat with a spatula, about 20–30 seconds per side until fragrant and slightly darkened. Do not scorch. Transfer to a bowl, cover with 2 cups of boiling water, and soak 20 minutes until fully softened. Reserve 1/2 cup of the soaking liquid.
  2. Char the aromatics. In the same dry skillet over medium-high heat, char the onion quarters and unpeeled garlic cloves, turning occasionally, until blackened in spots, about 8 minutes. Peel the garlic once cool enough to handle.
  3. Build the mole base. Drain the rehydrated chiles and transfer to a blender. Add the charred onion, peeled garlic, canned tomatoes with juices, dark chocolate, cumin, cinnamon, oregano, black pepper, 1 cup of the chicken broth, and the reserved chile soaking liquid. Blend on high until completely smooth, 60–90 seconds. Season with 1 tsp kosher salt.
  4. Brown the chicken. Preheat oven to 325°F. Pat chicken pieces dry and season on all sides with 1/2 tsp kosher salt. Heat vegetable oil in a large oven-safe Dutch oven or deep casserole dish over medium-high heat. Brown the chicken in a single layer, skin side down first, about 4 minutes per side. Work in batches to avoid crowding. Transfer browned pieces to a plate.
  5. Simmer the mole. Pour off all but 1 tbsp of fat from the pot. Pour the blended mole sauce into the hot pot — it will spatter, so stand back. Add the remaining 1 cup of chicken broth. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat and cook uncovered for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce darkens slightly and loses its raw edge.
  6. Assemble and braise. Nestle the browned chicken pieces into the mole sauce, skin side up. The sauce should come about halfway up the sides of the pieces. Cover tightly with a lid or foil and transfer to the oven. Braise for 45 minutes.
  7. Add olives and finish uncovered. Remove the lid, scatter the halved green olives over and around the chicken, and return to the oven uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the chicken skin crisps slightly and the sauce reduces and concentrates. An instant-read thermometer should read 175°F at the thigh.
  8. Rest and garnish. Remove from the oven and let rest 10 minutes before serving. Taste the sauce and adjust salt as needed. Garnish with toasted sesame seeds and fresh cilantro. Serve directly from the casserole dish with warm cornbread or rice alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 435 | Protein: 39g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 680mg

Ryan Gallagher
About the cook who shared this
Ryan Gallagher
Week 238 of Ryan’s 30-year story · Billings, Montana
Ryan is a thirty-one-year-old Army veteran and ranch hand in Billings, Montana, who cooks over open fire because microwaves feel dishonest and because the quiet of a campfire is the only therapy that works for him consistently. He hunts his own elk, catches his own trout, and makes a camp stew that tastes like the mountains smell. He doesn't talk much. But his food says everything.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?