Chicken with Homemade Noodles

Amber graduated. Saturday, May 18, 2019. Bachelor of Science in Nursing, University of Kentucky. The first Hensley to earn a college degree.

I wore the tie. Connie wore a dress. Travis and Jolene were there. Betty was there, in the seat I reserved on the aisle with Dale beside her, wearing her church dress and a hat she hasn't worn since Earl's funeral. Betty in a hat means the occasion is as serious as death, which it is — this is the death of the old Hensley story and the birth of a new one. The old story ends with "and the coal miner's children worked with their hands." The new story says "and the coal miner's granddaughter healed with hers."

When they called Amber's name — "Amber Leigh Hensley, Bachelor of Science in Nursing" — I stood up. I didn't decide to stand up. My body decided. My body said: this moment requires standing, requires the full vertical expression of a man who went into the mines and out of the mines and raised a daughter who went into books and out of books and into a hospital where she will save lives that coal miners' wives once lost because the hospital was forty-five minutes over mountain roads and the ambulance didn't come fast enough.

Betty cried. Betty, who I have seen cry exactly twice in my life — at Earl's funeral and when I told her about Clay's Army enlistment — cried at Amber's graduation. She held Dale's arm and the tears came silently and she didn't wipe them because wiping them would have acknowledged them and Betty doesn't acknowledge weakness. But these weren't weakness tears. These were triumph tears. These were the tears of a woman who cooked three meals a day for fifty years so her grandchildren could become something she never had the chance to be.

After the ceremony, Amber found us. She was in her cap and gown, holding her diploma, and she walked to Betty first — not to me, not to Connie, to Betty. She knelt down and said "This is yours too, Grandma Betty. You made this possible." And Betty put her hand on Amber's face and said "No, baby. I made the chicken. You made this." And I had to walk away because the tie was too tight and the stadium was too bright and the moment was too large and I needed to stand somewhere alone and breathe and let the pride move through me without breaking anything.

The graduation dinner was at our house. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Green beans. Cornbread. Stack cake. Amber ate three pieces of chicken and said "This is the best fried chicken I've ever had." I said "It's Betty's recipe." She said "I know. But your hands made it." That's the line. That's the inheritance. Betty's recipe. My hands. Amber's future. Three generations. One kitchen. One cast iron skillet. One family that started in the mines and ends in the hospital and the distance between them is measured in chicken and cornbread and the particular love of people who feed each other because that's the only language they're fluent in.

The fried chicken was Betty’s — always has been — but this is the dish that came after, the one I made the following Sunday when the house was quiet again and I needed to keep cooking because cooking is the only way I know how to sit with something too large to name. Chicken with homemade noodles: the kind of meal that takes time and intention and both hands, the kind of meal you make when you want the work itself to mean something. Amber called from the hospital during her first week of clinicals, and I told her what was on the stove, and she said “Save me some.” I did.

Prep Time: 45 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 2 hrs 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 whole chicken (3 to 4 lbs), cut into pieces
10 cups water
1 medium onion, quartered
3 celery stalks, cut into chunks
2 medium carrots, cut into chunks
2 teaspoons salt, divided
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 bay leaves
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, beaten
1/3 cup whole milk
1 tablespoon butter, softened
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (optional)

Instructions

Simmer the chicken. Place chicken pieces in a large stockpot and cover with 10 cups of water. Add onion, celery, carrots, bay leaves, 1 teaspoon salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Cook uncovered for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes, until chicken is tender and pulls easily from the bone.
Pull and strain. Remove chicken pieces and set aside to cool slightly. Strain the broth through a fine mesh strainer, discarding solids. Return broth to the pot and bring to a gentle simmer. Skim off any excess fat from the surface. Remove chicken meat from the bones, shredding or chopping into bite-sized pieces. Discard skin and bones.
Make the noodle dough. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Add beaten eggs, milk, and softened butter. Mix with a fork until a stiff dough comes together. Turn onto a lightly floured surface and knead 4 to 5 times until smooth.
Roll and cut. Divide dough in half. Roll each portion out on a floured surface to about 1/8-inch thickness. Let rest uncovered for 10 minutes to dry slightly, then cut into strips roughly 1/4 inch wide and 2 to 3 inches long. Separate any pieces that stick together.
Cook the noodles. Bring the strained broth to a rolling boil. Drop noodles in a handful at a time, stirring gently so they don’t clump. Reduce heat to medium and cook 12 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until noodles are tender and the broth has thickened slightly.
Finish the pot. Return shredded chicken to the pot. Season with remaining 1 teaspoon salt and additional pepper to taste. Simmer together 5 minutes so the flavors come together. Stir in parsley if using. Serve hot in deep bowls with cornbread alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken with Homemade Noodles — Betty’s Recipe, My Hands, Amber’s Future