I closed on a beautiful home in Seminole Heights this week. The buyers — a young couple, first-timers — looked at the keys the way I looked at my real estate license in 2012: like they were holding the future in their hands.
Alexander called from school this week. He is settling in and building a life with the quiet competence of a young man who watched his mother rebuild from nothing and decided that building is what Papadopouloses do. He still does not call Yia-yia enough. He never will.
Some weeks are ordinary. This was an ordinary week. I sold houses. I cooked dinner. I called Mama. I drove to Tarpon Springs on Sunday. The extraordinary thing about ordinary weeks is that they are the ones you miss most when they are gone.
I made avgolemono tonight. The broth was golden, the lemon sharp, the rice soft. Comfort in a bowl, the Greek answer to everything. We ate at the kitchen table, just the three of us, and for a moment the house was not quiet or loud — it was exactly right. Full. Fed. The sound of forks on plates is the sound I love most in this world.
The olive oil in my kitchen is from a Greek import shop in Tampa that sources from Kalamata. It is expensive. It is worth it. I use it on everything — salads, fish, bread, vegetables, the edge of a pot of soup — because olive oil is not a condiment in this family, it is a philosophy. Use it generously. Use it without apology. Use it the way you use love: poured freely, never measured, always more than you think you need.
Avgolemono is what I made, but this is what I reach for when the pantry has not been restocked and the week has already given everything it has — a chicken and rice soup with the same soul: golden broth, soft rice, something bright to cut through it. The night after closing, after Alexander’s call, after the drive back from Tarpon Springs, I wanted the sound of something simmering on the stove and the smell of it filling the house the way only soup can. This one delivers exactly that — not Greek, but honest, and at our kitchen table, honest is always enough.
Mexican Chicken and Rice Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 can (4 oz) diced green chiles
- 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 3/4 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Juice of 1 lime
- Fresh cilantro, for garnish
- Sour cream and sliced avocado, optional for serving
Instructions
- Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Season chicken with salt and pepper and sear 3–4 minutes per side until golden. Remove and set aside — it does not need to be cooked through yet.
- Build the base. In the same pot, reduce heat to medium and add the diced onion. Cook 4–5 minutes until softened, scraping up any browned bits. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Add the liquids and spices. Pour in the chicken broth, diced tomatoes with their juices, and green chiles. Stir in cumin, chili powder, and oregano. Bring to a gentle boil.
- Return the chicken and add rice. Nestle the seared chicken back into the pot and add the uncooked rice. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer 20–25 minutes until the rice is tender and the chicken is cooked through.
- Shred and finish. Remove the chicken, shred it with two forks, and return it to the pot. Squeeze in the lime juice and taste for seasoning — adjust salt, pepper, or lime as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro. Offer sour cream and sliced avocado on the side. A drizzle of good olive oil across the top is never wrong.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 26g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 540mg