January cold. The deep, bone-cracking Detroit January that makes you question every life decision that led you to a city where the wind off the river feels personal. The plant is freezing. The car takes fifteen minutes to warm up. Aiden refuses to wear his hat. Zaria refuses to wear her mittens. Parenthood in winter is a daily negotiation with small people who have strong opinions about outerwear and no understanding of frostbite.
I am coaching basketball again — the winter league started this week. New kids, new challenges, same gym. Devonte came back, taller and more confident. Aaliyah came back, still the best shooter on the team. A new kid named Marcus (same name as Marc, which is probably why I immediately liked him) cannot dribble but can pass like a point guard. I love these kids. I love standing on the court and teaching them things I know by heart and by body, the knowledge that survived the knee injury and lives in my hands and my eyes and my voice when I say "head up, use your legs, follow through."
Brianna set up the salon chair in the kitchen. She positioned it by the window for natural light, hung a mirror on the wall, organized her tools on a shelf I installed (crooked, but functional). The kitchen is now a kitchen and a salon, and the boundary between food and hair is defined by which client is in the chair and what time of day it is. Before noon: hair. After three: cooking. The system works. The apartment is small and full of purpose and smells like coconut oil and garlic in equal measure.
I made chicken and dumplings this week — Mama's recipe, or my approximation of it. Whole chicken simmered for hours (I started before work, Brianna monitored), the broth rich and golden, the chicken shredded and returned to the pot, the dumplings dropped in at the end — flour, butter, milk, a pinch of baking powder — and simmered until they were soft and pillowy and absorbed the broth. It was close. Not Mama's, but close. The dumplings were slightly dense (I overworked the dough, which Mama would have caught by feel and I did not catch at all), but the broth was right and the chicken was tender and the meal was warm and good on a cold January night. Brianna ate two bowls. Aiden ate the dumplings and left the chicken, because he is a carbohydrate loyalist and protein is a suggestion he frequently declines.
The dumplings were a little dense that night — I overworked the dough, which Mama would have caught in about three seconds — but the thing I got right was the broth, and the broth is everything. If you don’t have hours to tend a whole chicken or your dough instincts aren’t there yet, this Chicken and Rice Soup is the honest version of that same warmth: rich stock, shredded chicken, something starchy to soak it all up. It won’t taste exactly like Mama’s either, but on a January night in a small apartment that smells like coconut oil and garlic, close is more than good enough.
Chicken and Rice Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and drumsticks
- 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 1 bay leaf
Instructions
- Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Season chicken pieces with salt and pepper on both sides. Sear for 3–4 minutes per side until golden brown. Remove chicken and set aside; do not discard the drippings.
- Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion, carrots, and celery to the pot. Cook in the drippings for 5–6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Simmer the broth. Return the seared chicken to the pot. Pour in the chicken broth. Add thyme, rosemary, and the bay leaf. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for 25 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the broth has deepened in color.
- Shred the chicken. Remove the chicken pieces with tongs and transfer to a cutting board. Once cool enough to handle, remove and discard the skin and bones. Shred the meat into bite-sized pieces using two forks.
- Cook the rice. Bring the pot back to a medium simmer. Stir in the uncooked rice. Cook uncovered for 15–18 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the rice is tender and has absorbed some of the broth. Remove and discard the bay leaf.
- Finish and serve. Return the shredded chicken to the pot. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve hot.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 540mg
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 146 of DeShawn’s 30-year story
· Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.