← Back to Blog

Easy Baked Mexican Rice — The Meal That Reminded Me I Was Still Here

The pandemic has sealed me in my apartment like a man in a submarine. Work, home, work, home. The streets are empty. The plant is eerie — fewer people, more space, the same machines running for an audience that has been halved. Jerome and I eat lunch together (six feet apart, per the rules) and he says, "How are you?" and I say, "I'm here," and he does not push because Jerome knows the difference between "I'm here" and "I'm fine," and I am not fine, but I am here. I have not seen the kids in ten days. Brianna and I have not established a custody schedule — the pandemic makes everything complicated, and "taking the kids back and forth between two households" is exactly the kind of contact the health officials are warning against. I FaceTime them every night. Aiden holds the phone and tells me about his day (he is doing remote preschool, which involves an iPad and Brianna's patience and a four-year-old's limited tolerance for screens). Zaria appears in the frame briefly, says "Hi Dada," and disappears to do something more interesting. The FaceTime calls are a lifeline. They are also a reminder of what I have lost: the physical presence of my children, the weight of Zaria on my hip, the feel of Aiden's hand in mine. I started cooking again. Not from joy — from necessity. The cereal phase lasted four days before my body rebelled and my pride rebelled and the accumulated habit of three years of cooking reasserted itself like muscle memory. I made rice and chicken. I made spaghetti. I made chili. The food was for me, and eating it alone at the kitchen table was an exercise in stubbornness: I will not unlearn what I learned. I will not go back to the man who could not cook. That man is dead. The man who replaced him — the man with the grill and the smoker and the cast-iron skillet — is alive, and alone, and cooking for one. Sunday dinner at Mama's. She made enough food for ten people, even though it was just me and her and Dad (the rest of the family is quarantining separately). She packed containers for me to take home. She packed enough to feed me for a week. She has always fed me. She will always feed me. When the world ends, Cheryl Carter will still be cooking, and the food will still be perfect.

When I say I made rice and chicken during those weeks, I don’t mean anything fancy—I mean I made something real, something that required me to stand at a stove and be a person again. This Easy Baked Mexican Rice is exactly what I was reaching for: a recipe with just enough steps to keep your hands busy and just enough flavor to remind you that food is still worth making. You can serve it alongside a simply seasoned chicken breast, or eat it straight from the pan at a kitchen table set for one. Either way, it counts.

Easy Baked Mexican Rice

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
  • 1/2 cup white onion, finely diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 (8 oz) can tomato sauce
  • 1 3/4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 teaspoon cumin
  • 1 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 cup frozen peas (optional)
  • Fresh cilantro and lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Position a rack in the center.
  2. Toast the rice. In an oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven, heat the vegetable oil over medium-high heat. Add the uncooked rice and stir constantly for 3—4 minutes, until the grains turn golden and smell nutty.
  3. Soften the aromatics. Add the diced onion to the pan and cook for 2—3 minutes, stirring, until softened. Add the minced garlic and stir for another 30 seconds until fragrant.
  4. Add the liquids and spices. Pour in the tomato sauce and chicken broth. Add the cumin, chili powder, salt, and pepper. Stir everything together and bring to a simmer over medium heat.
  5. Bake covered. Cover the skillet tightly with a lid or aluminum foil and transfer to the preheated oven. Bake for 30—35 minutes, until the liquid is fully absorbed and the rice is tender.
  6. Add peas and rest. If using frozen peas, scatter them over the top, re-cover, and let the pan rest off the heat for 5 minutes. The residual steam will warm the peas through.
  7. Fluff and serve. Remove the lid, fluff the rice with a fork, and taste for seasoning. Serve with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 225 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 390mg

DeShawn Carter
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 194 of DeShawn’s 30-year story · Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?