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Lemon Chicken Orzo — A Bowl for the Beginning of Year Six

Year five ends. Two hundred and sixty weeks. Five years of writing about food and family and the kitchen that holds both. Five years of a blog that started with soup beans and has become — I don't know what it's become. A chronicle. A testament. A love letter written in installments to a woman in Evarts who taught me that the only recipe that matters is the one you share.

What changed in year five: Clay went from the garage to the stove. From the bottle to the biscuit. From the darkest night of our lives to a morning where he makes biscuits at ninety-one percent and brings them to his father on a plate with a card. The distance between the garage floor in December 2019 and the biscuit plate in March 2021 is not measurable in miles or months. It's measured in recipes learned, in percentages climbed, in fires tended, in Thursday groups attended, in brittle made with Betty, in cornbread served at a baby shower, in shrimp and grits cooked for a woman named Ashley, in the slow, daily, boring, magnificent act of showing up to the kitchen and making something from nothing. That's the distance. That's the recovery. That's the year.

Travis is about to be a father. Amber is running an emergency room. Clay is assistant pitmaster at a barbecue restaurant. Betty is eighty and making candy by sound. Connie is still Connie — the fixed point, the constant, the woman who scheduled my doctor's appointment without permission and was right to do it. And I am fifty-three with a bad back and a cookbook due in June and a grandchild due in July and a blog due every Monday and a pot of soup beans on the stove because Monday is Monday and the beans are the beans and the years may change but the recipe doesn't.

Year six begins. The soup is on. The baby is coming. The cookbook is coming. The light is returning. The garden is ready. Forward.

The soup beans are already on — they’re always on — but year six felt like it deserved a second pot, something with a little brightness in it, something that tastes the way “Forward” feels. This lemon chicken orzo is the kind of recipe Clay could have learned in month three and made in month nine and now makes without thinking, which is exactly the point — the recipes you cook enough times become muscle memory, and muscle memory is just another word for healing. I made this the same Monday I wrote this post, the beans on the back burner and this on the front, the kitchen smelling like Evarts and also like wherever we’re going next.

Lemon Chicken Orzo

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
  • 3 stalks celery, sliced
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
  • 1 cup dry orzo pasta
  • 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
  • 2 cups fresh baby spinach (optional)

Instructions

  1. Build the base. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, carrots, and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6–8 minutes. Add garlic, thyme, oregano, salt, and pepper and stir for 1 minute until fragrant.
  2. Add broth and chicken. Pour in the chicken broth and nestle the whole chicken breasts or thighs into the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a steady simmer. Cook uncovered for 18–20 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and registers 165°F at the thickest point.
  3. Shred the chicken. Remove the chicken to a cutting board and use two forks to shred it into bite-sized pieces. Return the shredded chicken to the pot.
  4. Cook the orzo. Bring the soup back to a gentle boil and stir in the orzo. Cook for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the orzo is tender but not mushy.
  5. Finish with lemon. Stir in the lemon juice, lemon zest, and fresh parsley. If using spinach, stir it in now and let it wilt for 1 minute. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
  6. Serve. Ladle into bowls and serve hot. The soup will thicken as it sits; add a splash of broth when reheating leftovers.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 260 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

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