By The schools are closed. Not temporarily — indefinitely. The governor announced it on Friday and by Monday the building was empty and I was sitting in my kitchen with a laptop and a cup of coffee and the realization that my forty-first year of teaching English was about to be conducted from the same table where I make brisket. The irony is not lost on me. The kitchen table that has been my domain — my territory, my country — is now also my classroom, and the two things that define me are occupying the same four feet of space.
I spent the week setting up "Zoom," which is a video conferencing platform that I had never heard of before this month and which I now use to look at twenty-five teenage faces in small rectangles on my screen, like a very anxious game of Hollywood Squares. The technology is hostile. The students are patient with me, which I find both touching and slightly insulting — I am the teacher, they should not have to teach me, but here we are, in a world where a seventeen-year-old named Marcus walked me through screen sharing with the gentle patience of a person assisting an elderly relative, which is what I am to him, and I accept it because the alternative is not teaching at all, and not teaching is not acceptable.
Marvin does not understand why I am home during the day. He asks. I explain. He forgets. I explain again. This is, in miniature, the experience of the pandemic for the Feldman household: a crisis that must be repeatedly explained to a man who cannot retain the explanation, existing alongside a woman who cannot stop explaining, because explaining is what I do, it is my fundamental orientation toward the world — I explain, therefore I am — and the fact that the explanation doesn't land doesn't mean it shouldn't be offered.
I made a big pot of soup. Chicken soup, the standard, the default, the food of pandemics and pogroms and every catastrophe the Jewish people have faced for five thousand years: make soup, eat soup, survive. The soup will not cure the virus. The soup will cure the feeling that the virus is the only thing happening. I made the soup. I ate the soup. I taught a Zoom class from my kitchen table while the soup simmered behind me, and one student said, "Mrs. Feldman, is that chicken soup?" and I said, "It's always chicken soup," and someone in the chat typed a heart emoji, which is the highest form of praise available in the digital classroom.
The soup I made that first week was the thing that kept me sane, but once the weeks blurred into months and Zoom became as ordinary as chalk, I needed something that could do what soup does — simmer quietly in the background while I explained metaphor to a grid of sleepy teenagers — but feel like a little more of an occasion. This slow cooker Tuscan chicken is what I landed on: everything goes in before first period, and by the time I close the laptop it’s ready, and the kitchen smells like somewhere a person would want to be, which matters more than I can say.
Slow Cooker Tuscan Chicken Meatballs With Gnocchi
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 4 hours | Total Time: 4 hours 20 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs ground chicken
- 1/3 cup plain breadcrumbs
- 1 large egg
- 3 cloves garlic, minced, divided
- 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 (14.5 oz) can diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 (14.5 oz) can crushed tomatoes
- 1/2 cup chicken broth
- 1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
- 1 teaspoon dried basil
- 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1 (16 oz) package shelf-stable gnocchi
- 3 cups fresh baby spinach
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
Instructions
- Make the meatballs. In a large bowl, combine ground chicken, breadcrumbs, egg, half the minced garlic, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper. Mix until just combined. Roll into 1 1/2-inch meatballs (about 20–24 total) and set aside.
- Build the slow cooker base. Add diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, chicken broth, sun-dried tomatoes, remaining garlic, basil, and red pepper flakes (if using) to the slow cooker. Stir to combine.
- Add the meatballs. Nestle the raw meatballs into the tomato mixture in a single layer as best you can. Cover and cook on LOW for 3 1/2 to 4 hours, or on HIGH for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, until meatballs are cooked through.
- Add the gnocchi and cream. In the last 30 minutes of cooking, stir in the gnocchi and heavy cream. Replace the lid and continue cooking until the gnocchi are tender and pillowy, about 25–30 minutes on LOW.
- Finish with greens and cheese. Stir in the baby spinach and Parmesan cheese. The spinach will wilt within 2–3 minutes. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with additional Parmesan. Serve with crusty bread if you have it.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 740mg