Old-Fashioned Chicken and Dumplings

May has arrived and Birmingham is remembering that it is in fact located in Alabama, which means the humidity showed up like an uninvited guest who plans to stay until October. I opened the kitchen window Monday morning and the air came in wet and heavy and smelling like honeysuckle and cut grass, and I thought here we go again. Thirty years of Alabama summers and I still have a conversation with the humidity every May, the same conversation — I tell it I do not appreciate it, and it tells me it does not care. We have an understanding.

This was a cooking week. Not a big-event cooking week, just the steady rhythm of feeding people that is my life's work and my life's joy. Monday I made a big pot of chicken and dumplings for the senior shut-ins — five elderly members of New Hope who cannot get to church anymore and who I deliver food to every Monday. I pack it in those good Tupperware containers, the ones with the snap lids, and Calvin drives me around because my car's air conditioning is unreliable and Calvin's truck has air conditioning that works like it has something to prove.

Sister Arlene Jackson, who is ninety-two and has been a member of New Hope since before Calvin was born, took her container of chicken and dumplings and said Loretta your mama would be proud. And I stood on her porch and blinked fast because I will not cry on a porch on a Monday but I will hold that sentence in my heart like a pearl, because Sister Arlene knew Mama, cooked beside Mama, and when she says Mama would be proud, she is not guessing. She is testifying.

Marcus is finishing up a school project — building a model bridge for his physics class. He has been at the kitchen table with balsa wood and glue for three nights straight. The table smells like glue and possibility. He explains the engineering principles to me while I cook, and I do not understand half of it, but I nod and say mmhmm in all the right places, because what he needs is not my comprehension. What he needs is my presence. My mmhmms. My kitchen as his workshop.

Made peach cobbler Friday night just because I felt like it. Sometimes a woman makes peach cobbler not because it is someone's birthday or a church event but because the canned peaches were on sale and the evening felt like it needed sweetness. Calvin ate two servings and looked at me like I had performed a miracle. Baby, it is canned peaches and Bisquick. The miracle is that you still look at me like that after twenty-four years.

That peach cobbler was easy and sweet, but the week called for something with more weight to it — something that takes time and fills the house. When you have a boy at your kitchen table for three nights straight building something out of nothing, you want the pot on the stove to match that kind of effort, that kind of reward. Chicken and dumplings is not a quick weeknight meal; it is a statement that says I see you, I am here, and supper is worth waiting for. Here is how I made it.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 40 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 whole chicken (about 3 1/2 lbs), or 3 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and breasts
8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 stalks celery, sliced 1/4 inch thick
2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced 1/4 inch thick
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 tsp salt, plus more to taste
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp poultry seasoning
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tbsp unsalted butter
2 tbsp fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (optional, for serving)
For the dumplings:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
3/4 cup whole milk
3 tbsp unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled

Instructions

Simmer the chicken. Place the whole chicken (or bone-in pieces) in a large Dutch oven or heavy stockpot. Pour in the chicken broth — if needed, add enough water so the chicken is just covered. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, skimming off any foam that rises. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover partially, and simmer 45–50 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and tender.
Pull and shred. Transfer the chicken to a cutting board and let it rest until cool enough to handle. Remove the skin and bones, then shred the meat into generous bite-sized pieces. Set aside. Strain the broth back into the pot if desired, discarding any solids, or simply leave the broth as-is.
Build the base. Return the pot of broth to medium heat. Add the onion, celery, carrots, garlic, salt, pepper, poultry seasoning, and thyme. Simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, until the vegetables are just tender. Stir in the heavy cream and butter. Return the shredded chicken to the pot and taste for seasoning, adjusting salt and pepper as needed. Keep at a steady, gentle simmer.
Mix the dumplings. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the melted butter and milk. Stir with a fork just until the dough comes together — it will be thick and a little shaggy. Do not overmix or the dumplings will come out tough.
Drop and cover. Using a large spoon or a 2-tablespoon cookie scoop, drop rounded spoonfuls of dumpling dough directly onto the surface of the simmering broth, spacing them slightly apart. You should get 12–16 dumplings. Reduce heat to low, place the lid on tight, and cook undisturbed for 15 minutes. Do not lift the lid — the steam is what makes them puff up soft and pillowy.
Check and finish. After 15 minutes, lift the lid and test a dumpling by pressing gently — it should spring back and feel cooked through, not doughy in the center. If needed, cover and cook 3–5 minutes more. Scatter parsley over the top if using, and serve straight from the pot in deep bowls, making sure each serving gets plenty of broth, chicken, and dumplings.

Nutrition (per serving)

Old-Fashioned Chicken and Dumplings — The Monday Pot I Pack in Tupperware and Carry to Sister Arlene’s Porch Because Mama Would Have Done the Same