Texas-Style Spanish Rice

State Championship. Eight. We won 28-14. I've stopped finding this strange. Eight championships in fourteen seasons. A dynasty — the word I don't use but which is now inescapably the right word. The program has produced eight state champions in fourteen seasons. The players who produced those championships are out in the world now, some of them coaching, some of them playing at the next level, some of them doing other things entirely, and all of them carry this place with them. That's the point. That was always the point.

Marco had 124 yards in the championship game. Freshman. In his first championship game. The sideline was good — calm, executed, the fourth quarter going the direction we needed. When the final whistle blew I looked for him and he was looking for me. We found each other across the field. He raised one fist. I raised mine. It's Hector's gesture. It's the gesture I've been making since the first championship when Hector made it from the stands. Marco learned it without being taught. He learned it the way you learn the gestures of people you love: by osmosis, by attention, by being in the same rooms for a long time.

Eighth championship posole. Marisol drove up. Mom flew up — her first flight since before Hector died. She sat at the table and had two bowls and said, "He would have been so loud right now." I said yes. He would have. We let that be what it was. He would have been very loud. Eight. He would have said eight like it was a different word than a number. It kind of is.

The posole is the centerpiece, but it’s never alone on that table—there’s always rice, and this Texas-Style Spanish Rice is the one that’s been next to the bowl every single time. Mom had two bowls of posole, but she went back for the rice too, and watching her eat at that table while we talked about Hector and about eight and about Marco raising his fist across the field—that’s exactly the kind of meal this rice belongs to. It’s not fancy, but it holds weight. Some food is just built for the moments that matter.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
1/2 medium white onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 can (14.5 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can (8 oz) tomato sauce
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped (optional, for garnish)
1 lime, cut into wedges (for serving)

Instructions

Toast the rice. Heat the vegetable oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the uncooked rice and stir constantly for 3–4 minutes, until the grains turn golden and smell nutty. Do not walk away—the rice can scorch quickly.
Sauté the aromatics. Add the diced onion to the toasted rice and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes until softened. Add the minced garlic and cook 30 seconds more until fragrant.
Add tomatoes and seasoning. Pour in the fire-roasted diced tomatoes (with their liquid) and the tomato sauce. Stir in the chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper. Mix well to combine everything evenly.
Add broth and bring to a boil. Pour in the chicken broth and stir to incorporate. Increase heat to high and bring the mixture to a full boil.
Simmer covered. Once boiling, reduce heat to low, cover tightly with a lid, and simmer for 20 minutes. Do not lift the lid during this time—the steam is doing the work.
Rest and fluff. Remove from heat and let the rice rest, still covered, for 5 minutes. Uncover and fluff gently with a fork. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
Serve. Transfer to a serving bowl, garnish with fresh cilantro if using, and serve alongside lime wedges for squeezing over the top.

Nutrition (per serving)

Texas-Style Spanish Rice — The Pot That Comes Out After Championships