One-Pan Chicken Piccata and Orzo

Mother's Day was Sunday. The kids made breakfast (the tradition holds: scrambled eggs from Jasmine, toast from Marcus, coffee that is improving week by week because Marcus has been watching YouTube videos about pour-over techniques and I am raising a coffee snob and I am proud). The card this year: Marcus drew a kitchen, detailed and careful, with a woman standing at the stove. Jasmine wrote: "You are the stove and the food and the table and the people sitting at it. You are the whole kitchen, Mama. Happy Mother's Day." I am keeping every card these children ever make me. I am building an archive of their love.

I called Curtis. "Happy Mother's Day from Mama," I said. He was quiet. Then: "Happy Mother's Day from me too." We didn't say more. We didn't need to. The silence between us on Mother's Day holds everything: Brenda, who should be here. Tamika, who is here. Curtis, who shows up even when showing up hurts.

First date with Derek. Saturday night. A mid-range Italian restaurant in Midtown — not fancy, not cheap, cloth napkins but not crystal glasses. He ordered chicken marsala. I ordered chicken marsala. We looked at each other and laughed, the kind of laugh that happens when you realize the person across from you is tuned to the same frequency. He told me about growing up in Macon, Georgia. His mother, Claudette, Jamaican immigrant, who makes jerk chicken that "would make you reconsider your entire understanding of chicken." His father, Earl, a postal worker, who died when Derek was twenty-seven. I told him about Curtis. About the tomatoes. About the Saturday dinners. He listened. He always listens.

He walked me to my car. He didn't try to kiss me. I noticed. I noticed the way I noticed in the bio I carry around: the absence of pressure, the presence of patience. He said, "I had a really good time." I said, "Me too." He said, "Same time next week?" I said, "I'll check my schedule," which was a lie because my schedule is: work, kids, cook, Set the Table, Saturday dinner with Daddy. Every week. Same week. But a woman is allowed to pretend she has a complicated social calendar when a man who orders the same entrée asks to see her again.

I called Vanessa from the parking lot. "He might be a person," I said. She said, "Girl, he IS a person. Promote him."

Here’s the thing about ordering chicken marsala on a first date: you’re telling someone exactly who you are. You’re saying, I want something warm and familiar, something with a sauce worth savoring, something that says I came here to enjoy myself. And when the person across from you orders the same thing? That’s not a coincidence—that’s a frequency. I’ve been making my own version at home ever since, a bright chicken piccata with orzo that comes together in one pan, because a woman who is maybe, possibly, cautiously letting someone new into her kitchen deserves a recipe that doesn’t ask too much of her while she’s busy pretending to check her schedule.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 2 large)
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup orzo pasta
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
1/4 cup brined capers, drained
1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
Lemon slices, for serving

Instructions

Prep the chicken. Slice each chicken breast in half horizontally to create thin cutlets. Season both sides with salt and pepper, then dredge lightly in flour, shaking off the excess.
Sear the chicken. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the cutlets until golden, about 3 minutes per side. They don’t need to be cooked through. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Toast the orzo. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil to the skillet. Add garlic and cook for 30 seconds until fragrant. Stir in the orzo and toast for 1 to 2 minutes, stirring frequently, until lightly golden.
Build the sauce. Pour in the chicken broth and lemon juice, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Stir in the capers. Bring to a simmer.
Cook together. Nestle the chicken cutlets back into the skillet on top of the orzo. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook for 15 to 18 minutes, until the orzo is tender and the chicken is cooked through (165°F internal temperature).
Finish and serve. Remove from heat. Stir in the remaining 1 tablespoon butter and half the parsley. Garnish with remaining parsley and lemon slices. Serve straight from the skillet.

Nutrition (per serving)

One-Pan Chicken Piccata and Orzo — When He Orders the Same Thing You Do