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White Chili — A Pot of Courage When the World Feels Small

The news gets worse. COVID-19 — the name is everywhere now — is spreading across the country. Cases in Washington state. California. New York. Idaho hasn't been hit yet, but "yet" is a word that hangs in the air like smoke, and everyone can smell it. The clinic is implementing full precautions. The schools are talking about contingency plans. The grocery stores are running low on toilet paper, which is the most absurd and human response to a pandemic imaginable, and which I participate in anyway because when everyone around you is panicking about toilet paper, you buy toilet paper. Herd behavior. Even rational people herd.

Tom and I talked about the pandemic on Tuesday night. He's essential personnel — Fish and Game doesn't stop for viruses, wildlife doesn't social distance — and I'm essential too, because animals still get sick. We'll both keep working. The kids will — what? Stay home? Do school online? The uncertainty is the hardest part. The not-knowing. I thought I was done with not-knowing after cancer. I thought I'd graduated from the school of uncertainty. But here it is again: a new uncertainty, global this time, affecting everyone, not just me, and the scale of it is both terrifying and oddly comforting, because at least this time I'm not the only one on the kitchen floor.

I stocked the pantry this week. Not panic-buying — planning-buying. The Dawson way: methodical, practical, prepared. Rice. Beans. Canned tomatoes. Pasta. Flour. Yeast. Sugar. Salt. The basics. The things that keep a family fed when the world gets complicated. I looked at the full pantry and felt the particular satisfaction of a woman who has been through worse and knows that the pantry is the first line of defense.

I made bread. Three loaves. Not because we needed three loaves but because baking bread is an act of faith, and faith is what you lean on when the news is bad. You measure flour. You add yeast. You wait for it to rise. The rising is the faith part — you trust the chemistry, you trust the process, you trust that something good will come from simple ingredients and patience. Three loaves of bread. Three acts of faith. Enough to get through the week, at least.

The bread came out of the oven and smelled like something solid and true, and then I needed dinner — something that used the beans I’d lined up on the pantry shelf, something Tom could come home to after a long day of being essential in a world that had stopped feeling safe. White chili has always been my answer for that kind of week: it’s pantry-driven, it’s forgiving, and there’s something about a pot of white beans simmering on the stove that feels like the same faith as rising dough — patient, steady, nourishing. This is the recipe I made that night, and it fed us well.

White Chili

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 cans (15 oz each) white cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (4 oz) diced green chiles
  • 3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 1/2 cup sour cream
  • Shredded Monterey Jack cheese, sliced green onions, and tortilla chips for serving

Instructions

  1. Saute the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the diced onion and cook for 4—5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more, stirring constantly.
  2. Brown the chicken. Add the cubed chicken to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5—6 minutes until no longer pink on the outside.
  3. Add the beans and chiles. Stir in the drained cannellini beans and the entire can of diced green chiles, including any liquid.
  4. Season and simmer. Pour in the chicken broth. Add the cumin, oregano, chili powder, cayenne (if using), and a generous pinch of salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 20—25 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the broth has thickened slightly.
  5. Create a creamy base. Remove about 1 cup of beans from the pot and mash them with a fork or the back of a spoon. Stir the mashed beans back into the chili to thicken it naturally.
  6. Finish with sour cream. Remove the pot from heat and stir in the sour cream until fully incorporated. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
  7. Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with shredded Monterey Jack, sliced green onions, and crushed tortilla chips. Serve alongside a thick slice of good bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 480mg

Heather Dawson
About the cook who shared this
Heather Dawson
Week 204 of Heather’s 30-year story · Boise, Idaho
Heather is a forty-two-year-old vet tech, divorced single mom, and cancer survivor who grew up on a cattle ranch in southern Idaho. She beat Stage II breast cancer at thirty-two, lost her marriage six months later, and rebuilt her life around her two kids, her three-legged pit bull, and her mother's cinnamon roll recipe. She cooks ranch food on a vet tech's budget and doesn't sugarcoat anything — except the cinnamon rolls.

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