Broccoli-Cauliflower Chicken Casserole

Lourdes left for San Diego. I drove her to the airport. She was wearing the floral blouse Angela and I bought her and the pearl earrings from Iloilo and the expression of a woman who is about to hold her three-month-old twin grandchildren for the first time, an expression that combines joy and determination and the particular Santos ferocity that says: I have waited for this and I will not be delayed by airports or TSA or the fact that the lumpia cooler weighs more than the suitcase.

The lumpia cooler did not fit in the overhead bin. It went under the seat in front of her. The woman next to her asked, "What's in the cooler?" Lourdes said, "Six hundred lumpia." The woman said, "Six hundred?" Lourdes said, "I have twin grandchildren." As if that explained everything. It does explain everything. In the Santos universe, twins equals six hundred lumpia. The math is settled.

I drove home from the airport and went to the Mountain View house. The house was quiet. The kitchen was empty. The Datu Puti was on the counter. I watered the plants and checked the locks and stood in the kitchen for a minute, just standing, feeling the particular absence of Lourdes that is different from the absence of anyone else — the Lourdes-shaped void in the room, the silence where her voice should be, the stillness where her hands should be moving through garlic. Two weeks. She'll be back in two weeks. The plants will survive. The kitchen will wait. The Datu Puti will keep its vigil.

I made adobo at home. Alone. My version — the version that is close to Lourdes's but will never have enough vinegar, because the vinegar calibration is Lourdes's and mine is adjacent, the difference between a master and an apprentice who has been apprenticing for thirty-two years and will be apprenticing until the master stops cooking, which is to say: forever. The adobo was good. Not Lourdes-good. Grace-good. The difference is love. The difference is always love.

The adobo I made that night was mine—Grace-good, as I said, which is enough—but it was also a lot of adobo for one person standing alone in a kitchen that still smelled faintly of Lourdes’s garlic. The next evening I wanted something different: less about measuring up to a memory, more about just feeding myself something honest and warm. This broccoli-cauliflower chicken casserole is exactly that—the kind of dish that asks nothing of you, judges nothing, and delivers a full pan of comfort without requiring a thirty-two-year apprenticeship to pull off.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and cut into 1-inch cubes
2 cups broccoli florets, cut small
2 cups cauliflower florets, cut small
1 can (10.5 oz) condensed cream of chicken soup
3/4 cup sour cream
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup plain breadcrumbs
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
Blanch the vegetables. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add broccoli and cauliflower florets and cook for 3 minutes until just tender-crisp. Drain well and pat dry with a paper towel—excess moisture will make the casserole watery.
Mix the filling. In a large bowl, whisk together the cream of chicken soup, sour cream, and mayonnaise until smooth. Stir in 1 cup of the cheddar cheese, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Fold in the cooked chicken, broccoli, and cauliflower until everything is evenly coated.
Assemble the casserole. Spread the mixture evenly into the prepared baking dish. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup of cheddar over the top.
Make the topping. Combine the breadcrumbs and melted butter in a small bowl, tossing with a fork until the crumbs are evenly moistened. Sprinkle the breadcrumb topping in an even layer over the cheese.
Bake. Bake uncovered for 35 to 40 minutes, until the casserole is bubbling at the edges and the breadcrumb topping is deep golden brown. Let it rest for 5 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Broccoli-Cauliflower Chicken Casserole — Something Warm for the Quiet Kitchen