One Pan Greek Lemon Chicken and Rice

Father's Day. And Anaya's birthday week. She turns one on June 23rd. One year since the thermos and the lullabies and the first cry. Three hundred and sixty-five days of feeding, holding, walking, falling, laughing, crying, teething, crawling, standing, walking, saying Amma, saying Dada, eating rasam rice, wearing pumpkin costumes, watching the wet grinder, pulling herself up on kitchen cabinets. One year. She is a person now. Not a baby — a person. Small, opinionated, mobile, verbal (if you count "Amma," "Dada," "ba," "no," and something that might be "more" but sounds like "muh"). She has preferences (rasam rice: yes, bananas: maybe, sweet potatoes: absolutely not). She has a personality (determined, serious, occasionally hilarious when she discovers something new like grass or her own toes). She has a kitchen drawer filled with things she's chosen as important: a wooden spoon, a plastic container, and the colander hat. The Aksharabhyasam is tomorrow. The objects are arranged: book, pen, coin, rice, veena. Amma has practiced the ceremony sequence with the priest. Pushpa has organized the party for afterward. I have made the food — Amma's payasam, my coconut rice, the birthday cake (from the Indian bakery — pineapple cream, obviously). For Father's Day, I gave Appa a photo album — printed, physical, the kind you hold in your hands. Twelve photos of Anaya's first year, arranged month by month. Appa held the album and turned each page slowly and didn't say anything for a long time and then said, "She grows fast." "She does, Appa." "They all do." He was talking about Anaya. He was also talking about me. About the thirty-two years between the day I was born in this same hospital and the day my daughter was born in the same hospital. About time and its refusal to slow down for anyone, even grandfathers who want to hold the moment a little longer. I made biryani for Father's Day dinner. Not because biryani is Father's Day food — because biryani is the food of occasions, and this is an occasion: the last day before Anaya turns one. The last day of her first year. The last day of the beginning. Tomorrow she turns one. Tomorrow she reaches for her destiny. Tomorrow the second year starts. The biryani is ready. The payasam is cooling. The colander hat is in the kitchen drawer. Happy almost-birthday, Anaya. Happy Father's Day, Appa. Happy Father's Day, Raj. The first year ends. Everything that follows is the rest of the story.

Biryani is the food of occasions in our house — and when the occasion is the last evening of Anaya’s first year, nothing else would do. Since I didn’t have time to layer and dum-cook a full biryani alongside the payasam and the birthday cake coordination, I turned to this one-pan Greek lemon chicken and rice: it has that same soul-settling quality of rice that has absorbed something slow and savory and good. The lemon brightens it the way a celebration should feel, and there’s something right about a dish that finishes in one vessel — humble, whole, nothing left behind.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 2 lbs)
1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice, rinsed
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 lemon, zested and juiced (about 3 tablespoons juice)
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper, divided
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (for serving)
Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken thighs dry with paper towels. Season all over with 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, paprika, and cumin. Let sit at room temperature for 10 minutes while you prep the other ingredients.
Sear the chicken. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large, deep oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Place chicken thighs skin-side down and sear undisturbed for 6–7 minutes until the skin is deep golden and releases easily from the pan. Flip and sear the other side for 3 minutes. Transfer chicken to a plate; it will not be cooked through yet.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil to the same pan. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened and just beginning to turn golden. Add the garlic and oregano and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
Toast the rice. Add the rinsed rice to the pan and stir to coat in the oil and onion mixture. Toast for 2 minutes, stirring frequently, until the edges of the rice look slightly translucent.
Add liquid and nest the chicken. Pour in the chicken broth, lemon juice, and lemon zest. Season with the remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Nestle the seared chicken thighs skin-side up into the rice, leaving the skin exposed above the liquid so it can crisp in the oven.
Bake. Preheat oven to 400°F (205°C). Bring the liquid in the pan to a gentle simmer on the stovetop, then transfer the pan uncovered to the oven. Bake for 25–28 minutes, until the rice has absorbed the liquid, the chicken skin is deep golden and crispy, and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the chicken reads 165°F.
Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest, uncovered, for 5 minutes. Fluff the rice gently around the chicken with a fork. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve with lemon wedges on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

One Pan Greek Lemon Chicken and Rice — The Occasion Rice That Anchored Anaya’s Almost-Birthday