Bruschetta Chicken Wraps

Summer settles in. The heat arrives — 95, 98, 100 — and the rhythm changes. Early mornings in the garden before the sun turns aggressive. Work in the air-conditioned clinic all day. Home to sprinklers and popsicles and the long, golden evenings that are summer's gift to Idaho, when the temperature finally drops and the sky goes pink and the foothills glow and the world is kind for a few hours before the dark comes.

Lily's horse camp is full-time this week — all day, every day, and she comes home sunburned and happy and smelling like horse, which is a smell I know from childhood and which I find comforting in a way that non-ranch people probably don't understand. She's learning to groom Copper — brush, comb, hoof pick — and she does it with the tenderness of someone caring for a family member, which Copper essentially is.

Mason's nature camp took a field trip to the Boise River, and he came home with a jar of river water that he immediately put under his microscope. His findings: "There are a LOT of things living in this water, Mama." His expression suggested that this was both fascinating and slightly alarming. I told him the river is healthy and the organisms are normal and that life is everywhere if you look closely enough. He said, "I'm always looking closely," and he is. He is always looking closely. He was born looking closely.

The garden tomatoes are ripening. The first one — a Cherokee Purple, dark and heavy — came off the vine on Saturday. I sliced it, salted it, put it on bread with mayo. The annual tomato sandwich. The simplest and most sacred food of summer. I ate it at the kitchen counter and the juice ran down my chin and the taste was earth and sun and time, and this is the fourth summer of this garden, the fourth first tomato, and each one is a celebration I don't take for granted. Each one is proof: I planted this. I waited. It grew. I'm here to eat it.

That first Cherokee Purple didn’t last long — it never does — but it reminded me that the garden was finally open for business, and I wasn’t about to let the rest of those tomatoes go to waste on just salt and bread (as perfect as that is). These bruschetta chicken wraps became my answer to the abundance: all that same bright, sun-warmed tomato flavor I’d tasted at the counter, now wrapped up into something that could feed a sunburned kid who smells like horse and a boy who spent the afternoon cataloging river microbes. Summer tomatoes deserve a meal, not just a moment.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 large flour tortillas (10-inch)
1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to even thickness
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
3 medium ripe tomatoes, diced (about 2 cups)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
2 cups fresh baby spinach or arugula

Instructions

Make the bruschetta topping. In a medium bowl, combine the diced tomatoes, minced garlic, fresh basil, balsamic vinegar, and 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Season with a pinch of salt and pepper. Toss gently and set aside to let the flavors meld while you cook the chicken.
Season the chicken. Pat chicken breasts dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, mix together the garlic powder, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper. Rub the spice mixture evenly over both sides of each chicken breast.
Cook the chicken. Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken breasts and cook for 6–7 minutes per side, until golden and cooked through (internal temperature of 165°F). Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes, then slice thin or chop into bite-sized pieces.
Warm the tortillas. Heat each tortilla in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 30 seconds per side, or wrap the stack in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30 seconds, until pliable and soft.
Assemble the wraps. Lay a tortilla flat. Layer with a handful of spinach or arugula, one-quarter of the sliced chicken, a generous spoonful of the bruschetta topping, and a sprinkle of shredded mozzarella. Fold in the sides and roll up tightly like a burrito.
Serve. Slice each wrap in half on the diagonal. Serve immediately, with any remaining bruschetta topping spooned alongside for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bruschetta Chicken Wraps — When the Garden Finally Gives You Something Worth Celebrating