Shredded Barbecue Chicken over Grits

Martin Luther King Day on Monday and we had the day off school. Daddy always takes this holiday seriously in a way that he does not always take holidays seriously — he sits with it, he reads, he talks about it in a way that is not performative but reflective. He grew up in Louisiana in a different time than now, a time that overlaps with the history we study in school more closely than I sometimes remember. He does not tell these stories often but when he does I stop everything to listen.

He talked that morning about his own father, my grandfather Elijah, who marched in Baton Rouge in the early 1960s. Who lost a job for it and found another one. Who raised Daddy with a particular understanding of what rights cost and what maintaining them requires. I had heard pieces of this before but not in this sequence, not with this connective tissue. I sat at the kitchen table and listened for an hour.

That afternoon I made gumbo because it felt right — something communal and slow and built from a foundation that requires time and attention. A chicken and sausage gumbo with a roux I started watching Daddy's face while I stirred, thinking about continuity: what passes from one generation to the next through stories and genes and recipes and the particular way a person holds a spoon. I am the daughter of people who paid for things I get to have. That feels important to carry consciously.

We watched footage of the 1963 March on Washington at the kitchen table in the evening, Daddy narrating small details from his own family's stories. The food on the table was warm and the room was warm and the lesson was larger than I could hold all at once. I wrote in my journal for a long time that night. Not conclusions. Just observations, open-ended, the kind you return to.

Gumbo was already simmering when I started thinking about what else the evening needed — something that could sit alongside the weight of the day and not feel out of place. Shredded barbecue chicken over grits felt like exactly that: slow, Southern, built from humble ingredients that become something generous together. It’s the kind of food that reminds me why I love cooking in the first place — not for the technique but for what it means to feed people you love after a day that asked something of you.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 cup barbecue sauce (your favorite brand or homemade)
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 cup stone-ground grits
4 cups water or chicken broth (for grits)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1/4 cup heavy cream or whole milk
2 green onions, thinly sliced (for garnish)

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken thighs dry with paper towels. Season both sides with smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper.
Simmer the chicken. In a medium saucepan or skillet, combine the chicken thighs, barbecue sauce, and chicken broth over medium heat. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook for 25–30 minutes, turning halfway through, until chicken is cooked through and very tender.
Shred the chicken. Remove chicken from the pan and shred with two forks. Return shredded chicken to the sauce, stir to coat, and keep warm over low heat.
Cook the grits. In a medium saucepan, bring 4 cups water or broth to a boil over medium-high heat. Slowly whisk in the grits. Reduce heat to low and cook, stirring frequently, for 20–25 minutes until thick and creamy.
Finish the grits. Remove grits from heat and stir in butter, cheddar cheese, and heavy cream. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Assemble and serve. Spoon creamy grits into bowls, top generously with shredded barbecue chicken and sauce, and garnish with sliced green onions. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Shredded Barbecue Chicken over Grits — The Kind of Meal That Carries Memory Forward