Chicken Stew — The Birthday Bog I Make Only for James

Fall has announced itself in Charleston, not with the fanfare of a New England autumn but with the Lowcountry's characteristic subtlety — a two-degree drop in temperature, a change in the light from white-gold to amber, the marsh grass shifting from green to the beginnings of gold. I notice these things because I have lived here for twenty-three years and because noticing is what librarians do — we catalog the world, filing observations the way we file books: by subject, by date, by the connection between one thing and another.

At the library, we are planning the fall events calendar. I have scheduled three author readings, a poetry slam for teens, and a community cookbook exchange that I proposed and my supervisor approved with the caveat that I "not turn it into a Lowcountry cooking lecture," which I took as both a criticism and a compliment. The cookbook exchange will ask community members to bring a family recipe and the story behind it, and we will compile them into a collection that the library will print and distribute. It is, I realize now, a rehearsal for something I have been wanting to do for years: preserve recipes as stories, stories as recipes, the two forms intertwined the way they are in every kitchen where someone cooks from memory.

James turned seventeen on Saturday. I baked a German chocolate cake, which is his favorite and which is not German at all but named after a man named Sam German who developed a type of baking chocolate in 1852, a fact I shared with James because I cannot help myself and because facts are how I show love. He blew out the candles and made a wish he wouldn't share, and Robert gave him a watch — Robert's father's watch, a gold Omega that has been passed down and which James held like he'd been handed the Holy Grail.

There is a thing that happens when a father gives a son a family heirloom: a transfer of identity, a recognition that the son is becoming the man the father hopes he'll be. Robert's eyes were wet. James's hands were steady. I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched the exchange and thought about my father, who gave me nothing physical when he died — no watch, no jewelry, no heirloom — but who gave me his voice and his conviction and his stubborn belief that words could change the world, which is an inheritance worth more than gold, though you can't wear it on your wrist.

I made chicken bog for the birthday dinner — the South Carolina pilau that is James's favorite and that I make only for him, because chicken bog is a labor of love and love, like chicken bog, requires time and attention and the willingness to stand at a stove stirring for longer than seems reasonable. The rice absorbs the chicken stock slowly, becoming creamy and rich, and the chicken falls apart into the rice, and the sausage provides a smoky counterpoint, and the whole thing comes together into something that is more than its parts, which is what every good recipe does and what, on a good day, every good family does too.

Chicken bog is the recipe I reach for when I want to say something I don’t have words for — when love needs to be expressed through hours at the stove rather than through the kind of eloquent inheritance my father left me. For James’s birthday, with all of that swirling around in me — the watch, the father, the things we pass down and the things we can’t hold in our hands — there was never any question about what I would cook. Here’s how I made it.

South Carolina Chicken Bog

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 50 minutes | Servings: 6–8

Ingredients

• 1 whole chicken (3 1/2 to 4 lbs), giblets removed
• 12 oz smoked sausage (andouille or kielbasa), sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
• 2 cups long-grain white rice, rinsed
• 6 cups chicken stock (reserved from poaching, supplemented as needed)
• 1 medium yellow onion, quartered (for poaching) plus 1 small yellow onion, diced (for cooking)
• 3 cloves garlic, smashed
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
• Fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

1. Poach the chicken. Place the whole chicken in a large stockpot and cover with cold water by 2 inches. Add the quartered onion, smashed garlic, and bay leaves. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cook uncovered for 55 to 65 minutes, skimming any foam that rises, until the chicken is cooked through and the legs pull away easily.
2. Reserve the stock. Carefully transfer the chicken to a cutting board and let it rest until cool enough to handle. Strain the poaching liquid through a fine-mesh sieve and measure out 6 cups; discard solids. If you have less than 6 cups, supplement with store-bought stock.
3. Shred the chicken. Remove and discard the skin and bones. Shred the meat into generous, rustic pieces — not too fine. Chicken bog should have something to it.
4. Brown the sausage. In the same pot or a large Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the sliced sausage and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4 to 5 minutes until lightly browned at the edges. Add the diced onion and cook another 3 to 4 minutes until softened and translucent.
5. Build the bog. Pour in the 6 cups of reserved stock and bring to a simmer. Stir in the salt, pepper, smoked paprika, and red pepper flakes if using. Add the rinsed rice and stir to combine. Nestle the shredded chicken throughout the pot.
6. Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and stir gently — the rice will have absorbed most of the stock and the mixture will look almost too wet. That is correct. Cover again and cook for another 10 minutes, until the rice is fully tender and the dish has thickened to a creamy, porridge-like consistency. This is not dry rice. It is bog.
7. Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. Taste for salt. Serve in wide, shallow bowls with chopped fresh parsley. It does not need anything else.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 39g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 820mg