Martin Luther King Jr. Day. No school. I spent the morning at First African Baptist at the annual MLK breakfast, where Deacon Harris gave a speech about Dr. King that he has been giving, with minor variations, for the last thirty years, and it is still good every time because the truth doesn't expire. I sat in the second pew and listened and thought about 1968, when Dr. King was killed. I was twelve. I remember my mama sitting at the kitchen table with her hand over her mouth, listening to the radio. I remember my daddy standing in the doorway, not saying a word. I remember thinking the world had broken and wondering if anyone would fix it. I'm sixty-one now and I'm still wondering.
But here is what I know: you fix it one plate at a time. You fix it by feeding the child who is hungry. You fix it by setting an extra place at the table. You fix it by teaching your granddaughter to cook and telling her the stories of where the food came from — the enslaved people who grew the rice, the Gullah women who seasoned the stew, the mothers who fed armies on nothing. Dr. King said he had a dream. My dream is smaller and closer to the ground. My dream is a table long enough for everyone, and food enough for every plate, and the grace to say "sit down, baby, eat" to every person who walks through the door.
After the breakfast, I went home and cooked. It's what I do when the world is too much. I made chicken bog — the Lowcountry version of arroz con pollo, rice and chicken cooked together in a pot, simple and filling and the kind of food that doesn't ask questions or demand anything from you except that you eat it. I added sausage because Hattie Pearl added sausage and because sausage makes everything better, a position I am willing to defend in any arena.
Kayla came over in the afternoon. She's back at school for her spring semester — junior year, the hard push. She's taking pharmacology and she says it's like learning a new language, except the language can kill people if you get it wrong. I said, "That's why they make you learn it, baby." She studied at the kitchen table while I cooked, same as always, and I thought about all the women who have sat at kitchen tables studying while other women cooked — my sister Bernice doing her homework while Mama made dinner, me reading the newspaper while my girls did their schoolwork, now Kayla with her flashcards. The kitchen table is the altar of this family. Everything important happens there.
Earl watched the football playoffs. He doesn't understand that I don't care about football. I understand that he doesn't care that I don't care. This is marriage.
Now go on and feed somebody.
The chicken bog did its work that afternoon — it always does — but if you don’t have a Dutch oven or a good pile of long-grain rice on hand, this creamy chicken and mushroom macaroni cheese bake will carry you to the same place: somewhere warm, somewhere fed, somewhere the world is at least manageable. I’ve made versions of this for Kayla since she was small, and she still looks up from her flashcards when she smells it in the oven. That’s the whole point, really. Cook something that makes people look up.
Creamy Chicken and Mushroom Macaroni Cheese Bake
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 12 oz elbow macaroni or medium pasta shells
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 8 oz cremini or button mushrooms, sliced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 2 cups whole milk, warmed
- 1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 1/2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded, divided
- 1/2 cup Gruyere or mozzarella cheese, shredded
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 1/4 cup breadcrumbs (optional, for topping)
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until just al dente, about 1 minute less than the package suggests. Drain and set aside.
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F (190°C). Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish.
- Cook the chicken. In a large oven-safe skillet or heavy pot, melt butter over medium-high heat. Season chicken pieces with salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Cook, stirring occasionally, until golden and just cooked through, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
- Saute the mushrooms. In the same skillet, add the sliced mushrooms and cook over medium heat until they release their moisture and begin to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and thyme and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
- Build the sauce. Sprinkle flour over the mushrooms and stir to coat. Gradually pour in the warmed milk and chicken broth, stirring constantly to prevent lumps. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook, stirring, until the sauce thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 4–5 minutes.
- Add the cheese. Remove the skillet from heat. Stir in 1 cup of the cheddar, all of the Gruyere, and the sour cream until smooth and melted. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
- Combine everything. Add the cooked pasta and the reserved chicken to the sauce and stir gently to coat everything evenly. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread in an even layer.
- Top and bake. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup cheddar, the Parmesan, and the breadcrumbs (if using) evenly over the top. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the top is golden and bubbling at the edges.
- Rest and serve. Let the bake rest for 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh parsley. Serve directly from the dish, and let people come back for more.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 540 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg