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Cajun Chicken — Rice Soup -- The Week Mami Said It Was Good

A quiet summer week. Lucas is two months old and has discovered his voice — not words, not even babbling, but sounds. Long, experimental vowels. Ooooooh. Aaaaaah. The sounds a human makes when it first realizes that it has a throat and the throat does things. I hold him and he makes these sounds and I talk back to him as if we are having a conversation, because we are. The conversation is: I am here. You are here. We are making sounds at each other. This is love in its most basic form.

I taught Lucas about sofrito this week. Not taught, exactly — he is two months old and cannot hold a spoon. But I held him in one arm and I made sofrito with the other hand, narrating every step. This is culantro, Lucas. It is different from cilantro. Smell it — well, you cannot smell it yet because your nose is the size of a button, but someday you will smell it and you will know. This is aji dulce. Sweet pepper. No heat. All fragrance. This is garlic. More garlic is always the answer, Lucas. Remember that. Eduardo walked in and saw me lecturing a two-month-old about garlic and he said, Carmen, he does not understand you. I said, Eduardo, understanding is not the point. Presence is the point. He is in the kitchen. The kitchen is speaking. He is listening with his whole body even if his brain does not have the words yet. The words will come. The kitchen will be here when they do.

At the hospital, summer is steady. No big crises, no major events. Just the daily rhythm of fifteen hundred meals, the machine I built running smoothly, my staff confident, my kitchen clean. Sometimes the best weeks are the steady ones, the ones where nothing dramatic happens and the food goes out on time and the patients eat and nobody calls my office with a problem. Steady is underrated. Steady is what Eduardo has been for thirty years and what I have been trying to learn from him, and I am getting closer, the way my sofrito got closer to Mami until it was right.

Made asopao de pollo tonight. The thick chicken rice soup that is half soup, half stew, all comfort. Eduardo had two bowls. Mami came for dinner and had one. She said, The asopao is good, Carmen. Good. Not close. Not almost. Good. I am collecting these words — right, good, perfect — the way you collect shells on a beach. Each one is rare. Each one is beautiful. Each one came from the sea of my mother approval, which is deep and vast and does not give up its treasures easily. I have earned each one. They are mine.

The asopao I made that night lives in the same family as this Cajun Chicken — Rice Soup — thick, golden, the kind of bowl that asks nothing of you except that you sit down and eat it slowly. I’m sharing this version because not everyone has culantro at the corner store, but everyone deserves a chicken and rice soup that feels like a conversation worth having. Make the sofrito first if you can. Hold the baby in the crook of your arm if you have one. And remember: steady weeks deserve real food, and real food deserves people who will tell you, honestly, that it is good.

Cajun Chicken & Rice Soup

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1 green bell pepper, diced
  • 2 stalks celery, sliced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 teaspoons Cajun seasoning
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
  • 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 3/4 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
  • 1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  • 3 green onions, sliced, for garnish
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Brown the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken pieces in a single layer and cook 4 to 5 minutes, stirring once, until lightly browned on the outside. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
  2. Build the base. In the same pot over medium heat, add the onion, bell pepper, and celery. Cook 5 to 6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Season and toast. Stir in the Cajun seasoning, smoked paprika, and black pepper, coating the vegetables evenly. Let the spices toast in the oil for about 30 seconds before moving on.
  4. Add the liquids. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices and the chicken broth. Stir to combine and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
  5. Return the chicken and add rice. Add the browned chicken back to the pot along with the uncooked rice. Stir, reduce heat to medium-low, and cover. Simmer for 20 to 25 minutes, until the rice is tender and the chicken is cooked through.
  6. Adjust and rest. Taste and adjust salt as needed. If the soup has thickened more than you like, add a splash of broth or water to loosen it. Remove from heat and let rest uncovered for 5 minutes — the soup will continue to thicken slightly as it sits.
  7. Serve. Ladle into deep bowls and top with sliced green onions and fresh parsley. Serve with crusty bread or white rice on the side if you want to make it a full meal.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 760mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 120 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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