Easy Chicken Burrito Bowls — The Pantry Meal That Shows Up When the Grocery Stores Don’t

August 29th. Eleven years since Katrina made landfall. I don't normally mark the date — I try not to, anyway, because marking it gives it power, and I've spent eleven years trying to take power away from that storm. But this year, with the flood two weeks old and the streets still lined with ruined furniture and the mold already blooming in houses that haven't been opened up yet, the anniversary hit different. It hit like it used to hit, in the early years, when I'd wake up on August 29th and feel the water on my ankles that wasn't there.

Danielle caught me at 3 AM, sitting on the porch in the dark. She didn't ask what was wrong. She sat next to me and held my hand and we watched the street. It was quiet — the kind of quiet that a neighborhood gets when half the houses are empty, when the people are staying with relatives or in hotels or in FEMA trailers that haven't arrived yet. "It's not Katrina," she said, softly. And I said, "I know." And I did know. This wasn't Katrina. But my body didn't know. My body was in Chalmette, in 2005, standing in water that rose to the roofline, holding a pregnant wife's hand, with nothing.

I went to work anyway. Gutted another house — the Millers' place on the next street over. Ben Miller is a retired teacher, seventy-two years old, and his house took four feet of water. Four feet. His wife Helen has dementia, and they've been staying with their daughter in Gonzales, and Ben comes to the house every day to check on the progress and stands in his gutted living room and looks at the waterline on the studs — a brown line, about chest-high on a short man, which Ben is — and I can see him trying to understand how this happened, and I want to tell him that understanding it doesn't help, that I spent years trying to understand Katrina and the only thing I learned is that water doesn't care about understanding. Water just goes where gravity takes it.

I rewired Ben's kitchen and replaced his breaker panel. Four days of work. I didn't charge him. He tried to pay me, pulled out a checkbook with shaking hands, and I said, "Mr. Ben, put that away," and he said, "I don't take charity," and I said, "It ain't charity. It's Tuesday." Because that's what Joey would have said. Joey helped people and called it Tuesday, called it nothing, called it what you do.

Made a crawfish pie on Wednesday. Not from fresh crawfish — season's over — but from frozen tail meat that I keep in the chest freezer for exactly this kind of occasion. Crawfish pie is a casserole, more or less: crawfish tails in a creamy, peppery sauce, baked in a pie crust. It's the kind of food that doesn't require fresh anything. It's pantry food, freezer food, the food you make when you haven't been to the grocery store in a week because the grocery store is closed because it flooded. I made two — one for us, one for the Millers. Helen can't remember much, but Ben says she still remembers food. "She ate three slices," he texted me at 9 PM. Three slices. Some days, three slices of crawfish pie is the best news you'll get.

The crawfish pie I described up there — that’s a Louisiana thing, a specific thing, and I know not everybody has frozen crawfish tails in their chest freezer. But everybody has the spirit of it: something warm, something filling, something you can double without much trouble and carry to a neighbor who needs it. These chicken burrito bowls are built the same way — from rice, from canned beans, from whatever chicken you’ve got in the freezer — and they scale up just as easy. Make two pans. Keep one, give one away. Call it Tuesday.

Easy Chicken Burrito Bowls

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

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs (fresh or thawed from frozen)
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tsp chili powder
• 1 tsp cumin
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder
• 1/2 tsp onion powder
• 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 can (15 oz) corn, drained (or 1 1/2 cups frozen corn)
• 1 cup salsa (jarred is fine)
• 1/2 cup chicken broth
• 1 cup shredded cheddar or Mexican blend cheese
• Optional toppings: sour cream, sliced avocado, fresh cilantro, lime wedges, pickled jalapeños

Instructions

1. Cook the rice. Prepare rice according to package directions. Fluff with a fork, season lightly with salt, and set aside. This can be done ahead and refrigerated for up to 3 days.
2. Season the chicken. Pat chicken dry. In a small bowl, combine chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Rub the spice mix evenly over both sides of the chicken.
3. Cook the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken and cook 6—7 minutes per side, until cooked through and the internal temperature reaches 165°F. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes, then slice or chop.
4. Warm the beans and corn. In the same skillet, add the drained black beans, corn, salsa, and chicken broth. Stir to combine and cook over medium heat for 3—4 minutes until warmed through and slightly thickened. Season to taste.
5. Assemble the bowls. Divide cooked rice among four bowls or a large serving dish. Spoon the bean and corn mixture over the rice. Top with sliced chicken and a generous handful of shredded cheese.
6. Add toppings and serve. Finish with sour cream, avocado, cilantro, and a squeeze of lime if you have them. Serve immediately, or cover tightly with foil if you’re carrying it somewhere.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 580 | Protein: 46g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 68g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 740mg