Chicken with Florentine Sauce

The market continues its steady climb. I had 7 showings this week and 1 offers. My reputation precedes me now — the Greek agent who tells the truth about roofs and brings food to open houses. Worse reputations exist.

Dimitri stopped by the bakery Saturday morning to eat spanakopita and tell Mama she is doing things wrong. She told him he had his chance. They argued. They ate. They loved. In that order, which is the only order this family knows.

Mama is 82 and still at the bakery at 4 AM. I do not know how much longer she will do this. I do not ask. You do not ask Voula Papadopoulos about endings. You stand next to her and roll phyllo and trust that the beginning continues as long as the hands are moving.

I made spanakopita pie — the big slab, not triangles — because fall demands hot pie and hot pie is what spanakopita was born to be. The kitchen smelled like rosemary and the evening air and I thought: this is what survives. Not the money or the stress or the arguments about phyllo. The food survives. The recipes survive. The love baked into every dish survives.

The house was quiet this evening. I sat at the kitchen table with a glass of wine and the remains of dinner and I thought about all the tables I have sat at — Mama's table in Tarpon Springs, the table in the South Tampa house I lost, the table in the apartment where I started over, this table where I have fed my children for years. Every table is a different chapter. The food connects them all.

The spanakopita was already spoken for — Mama’s domain, and Dimitri’s argument, and the bakery’s legacy all at once. But the spinach didn’t have to end there. On a quieter evening, with one glass of wine and the particular exhaustion of a week full of showings and small victories, I made Chicken with Florentine Sauce: the same dark, earthy spinach folded into something creamy and warm, something that didn’t require phyllo or a 4 AM alarm or anyone watching over my shoulder. It was my table. My chapter. And the spinach, as always, connected it to all the others.

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

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup dry white wine (or low-sodium chicken broth)
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
5 oz fresh baby spinach (about 4 packed cups)
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Fresh lemon juice, to finish

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken breasts dry with paper towels. Season both sides evenly with salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken and sear 5–6 minutes per side until golden and cooked through (internal temp 165°F). Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add minced garlic to the same skillet and cook 30 seconds, stirring, until fragrant. Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Simmer 2 minutes until reduced by half.
Make the Florentine sauce. Add heavy cream and bring to a gentle simmer. Stir in Parmesan and butter until melted and sauce begins to thicken, about 3–4 minutes. Add red pepper flakes if using.
Wilt the spinach. Add spinach in two or three batches, stirring each addition until wilted before adding the next. The sauce will turn a deep, rich green. Season to taste with additional salt and a small squeeze of fresh lemon juice.
Return the chicken. Nestle the seared chicken breasts back into the skillet. Spoon the Florentine sauce generously over each piece and let everything warm together over low heat for 2 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken with Florentine Sauce — The Spinach That Carries Every Table Forward