Chicken Caesar Salad Wraps

Two retired people in one house. Helen's been home full-time for a week, and we're negotiating. Not arguing — Bergstroms don't argue, we "discuss" things with varying degrees of silence — but negotiating the territory of a house that was mine from eight to six for two years and is now ours all day, every day. The kitchen is the main front. Helen has reorganized the spice shelf again. I have moved it back. She has moved it again. We are in a cold war over the cumin.

The truth is, I'm glad she's home. The house is different with two people in it — fuller, warmer, louder in the small ways that a second person makes a house louder: her footsteps, her humming (she hums while she reads, which she doesn't know and I won't tell her), the sound of her opening cupboards and closing them and opening them again because she's looking for the cumin, which I moved.

We made dinner together. A roast chicken — her recipe, my execution, which is the division of labor that's emerged. She seasons, I roast. She makes the pan sauce while I carve. We work around each other in the kitchen with the spatial awareness of two people who have shared a kitchen for thirty-seven years and know exactly where the other one will be standing at any given moment. It's a dance. Neither of us would call it that. But it is.

The chicken was perfect. Crispy skin, moist meat, a pan sauce made from the drippings with white wine and butter and thyme. We ate at the table — not the counter, not the couch, the table — because Helen insists that dinner is eaten at the table, and she's right, and the fact that I spent two years eating at the counter while she was at work is a confession I will never make.

After dinner we walked the property. Helen and I and Frost, down to the sugarhouse, along the fence line, back through the garden. The evening light was gold. The garden was green. Helen pointed out a patch of wild violets by the stone wall that I've walked past a thousand times and never noticed. She sees things I don't see. I see things she doesn't see. Between us we see most of it. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked.

Two retired people. One dog. One farmhouse. One kitchen with a disputed spice shelf. We'll figure it out. We've been figuring it out for thirty-seven years. The cumin will find its place. So will we.

The roast chicken is Sunday. It takes time, it takes the whole kitchen, and it takes both of us moving around each other like we’ve been doing for thirty-seven years. But on the weeknights — the ordinary Tuesday nights when neither of us wants to stand over a hot pan for an hour — these Chicken Caesar Salad Wraps are what we make. Helen handles the dressing and the romaine; I slice the chicken and warm the tortillas. Same division of labor, twenty minutes instead of two hours. The kitchen stays ours. The cumin stays wherever she put it.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts (or 2 cups shredded rotisserie chicken)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
4 large flour tortillas (10-inch burrito size)
3 cups chopped romaine lettuce
1/3 cup Caesar dressing (store-bought or homemade)
1/3 cup shaved or grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup seasoned croutons, lightly crushed
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Instructions

Season and cook the chicken. If using raw chicken, pat dry and season with garlic powder, salt, and pepper on both sides. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Cook chicken 5–6 minutes per side until internal temperature reaches 165°F. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes, then slice or chop into bite-sized pieces. (Skip this step if using rotisserie chicken.)
Dress the romaine. In a large bowl, toss the chopped romaine with Caesar dressing and lemon juice until evenly coated. Add the Parmesan and crushed croutons and toss once more.
Warm the tortillas. Heat each tortilla in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 30 seconds per side, or wrap all four in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30–45 seconds, until pliable.
Assemble the wraps. Lay a tortilla flat. Arrange a generous portion of the Caesar salad mixture down the center, then top with a quarter of the sliced chicken. Fold in the sides and roll tightly from the bottom up, burrito-style.
Slice and serve. Cut each wrap diagonally and serve immediately. For packed lunches, wrap tightly in foil or parchment to hold their shape.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Caesar Salad Wraps — What We Make on the Nights We Don’t Want to Negotiate