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Chicken Piccata Pasta — The Meal I Made the Night My Table Got One Seat Bigger

Miguel Jr. proposed to Jenny. He did it at a restaurant in West Hartford — Italian, candlelight, very American romantic — and she said yes. Of course she said yes. My son is a good man who comes from a good family who eats good food, and any woman with sense would say yes to that combination.

He brought her to my house the next day, as instructed. She walked in and she was wearing the ring and she was glowing the way women glow when they have said yes to a man they love, and I hugged her. I hugged her for a long time, longer than I have ever hugged Jenny, and when I let go I said, Welcome to the family, mija. And I meant it. MIJA. My daughter. She is my daughter now. The potato salad is forgiven. The boxed brownies are history. She said yes to my son and she is mine now, and I will feed her for the rest of my life the way I feed everyone I love — generously, loudly, and without restraint.

I had prepared, of course. I had arroz con pollo ready because arroz con pollo is what you serve when your firstborn brings his fiancee home for the first time as fiancee. I had tostones and habichuelas and flan. I set the table with the good plates, the ones Mami gave me when I got married, the ones I use only for important meals. This was an important meal. This was the meal that said: you are one of us now.

Jenny ate everything. She ate with enthusiasm, not caution. She ate the way a Delgado eats — with both hands and no apologies. I watched her and I thought: she is learning. Twenty months of Sunday dinners and she is learning to eat like us, to be like us, to belong at this table. Miguel Jr. watched me watching her and he smiled and I knew he was thinking: Mami approves. He is right. Mami approves. Mami approves completely.

Called Luz Maria in Bayamon. She said, About time. I said, Mami, they have only been together two years. She said, Carmen, your father proposed to me after three months. I said, Papi also drank a bottle of rum a day, so maybe he is not the model for romantic timing. She laughed. She said, Tell Jenny I said welcome. Tell her to eat more. Tell her the ring better be nice. I relayed these messages. Jenny laughed. She is learning to laugh at Luz Maria, which is the final stage of Delgado acceptance. She is one of us now. The table just got bigger. We need more chairs. We always need more chairs.

The arroz con pollo was the heart of that meal, but when I make chicken for a crowd on a night that calls for something a little lighter — something bright and lemony that makes you feel like clinking glasses — Chicken Piccata Pasta is what comes out of my kitchen. The capers have that little pop of brine, the lemon cuts through the richness, and the whole pot comes together faster than it takes to set the good plates. It is the kind of dish you make when someone has said yes and the whole room is still glowing from it.

Chicken Piccata Pasta

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb linguine or spaghetti
  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into thin cutlets
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, for dredging
  • 1 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/2 tsp black pepper
  • 3 tbsp olive oil, divided
  • 3 tbsp unsalted butter, divided
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 cup dry white wine (or low-sodium chicken broth)
  • 1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
  • 1 tsp lemon zest
  • 3 tbsp capers, drained and rinsed
  • 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
  • Freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for serving

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook the linguine according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water before draining. Drain and set aside.
  2. Dredge the chicken. Season both sides of the chicken cutlets with salt and pepper. Spread the flour on a plate and lightly dredge each cutlet, shaking off any excess.
  3. Sear the chicken. Heat 2 tbsp of the olive oil and 1 tbsp of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches if needed, cook the chicken cutlets for 3—4 minutes per side until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
  4. Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil to the same skillet. Add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds, stirring, until fragrant. Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let it reduce by half, about 2 minutes.
  5. Finish the sauce. Add the chicken broth, lemon juice, lemon zest, and capers. Simmer for 3—4 minutes until slightly reduced. Swirl in the remaining 2 tbsp butter until melted and the sauce is glossy. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
  6. Slice and combine. Slice the rested chicken cutlets into strips. Add the drained pasta to the skillet and toss to coat, adding splashes of reserved pasta water as needed to loosen the sauce. Nestle the chicken on top.
  7. Serve. Divide among plates or serve family-style straight from the skillet. Top with fresh parsley and freshly grated Parmesan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 48g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 62g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 540mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 50 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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