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Chicken and Bows — The Quiet Dish That Just Nourishes

October is coming, and with it the anniversary feeling — the turning of the year, the shift from heat to something gentler, the knowledge that I have lived through another season and the season has changed and so have I. Every fall since Earl died feels like a small graduation: I survived another summer. I made it to the cool air. The grief is still here but it sits lighter in the fall, maybe because the world itself is letting go — the leaves, the light, the last tomatoes — and letting go is easier when everything around you is doing it too.

I've been recording almost every day now. The voice recorder sits on the table like a companion, small and patient, and I talk to it the way I talk to Earl — with honesty, with affection, with the understanding that the listener won't judge me. This week I recorded the story of the Lowcountry boil. The whole thing — how it started, how I took it over, the seasoning, the timing, the 220 people, the live oaks, the cobbler table. I talked for forty minutes without stopping. When I played it back, I heard a woman who loves her community with the same ferocity she loves her family, and I thought: that woman deserves a book.

Kayla is transcribing faster than I can record. She types ninety words a minute, which is ninety more than I can manage, and she edits as she goes — not the content, just the rambling. She takes out the parts where I lose my train of thought and say "now where was I" and she keeps the parts where I get emotional, because the emotion is the book. The recipes are the structure. The emotion is the house.

Made chicken perloo tonight. The quiet rice dish, the one Mama made on Mondays with the Sunday chicken carcass. Rice, chicken, celery, onion, thyme. Everything cooked together until the rice is infused with flavor and the chicken is so tender it gives up without a fight. Perloo is a dish that doesn't show off. It just nourishes. There's a lesson there, baby.

Now go on and feed somebody.

That chicken perloo I mentioned — it got me thinking about all the quiet dishes, the ones with no occasion, no audience, no applause. Mama’s Monday meals were like that: leftovers turned into something whole and warming, nothing wasted. Chicken and Bows carries that same spirit for me — tender chicken, simple pasta, a handful of pantry staples pulled together into something that tastes like someone loved you while they cooked it. On a night when I’ve been talking to a voice recorder about grief and cobbler tables and 220 people fed under live oaks, this is exactly the kind of supper I need: unshowy, steady, and good all the way through.

Chicken and Bows

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 3 cups bow-tie (farfalle) pasta
  • 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or cubed (rotisserie or leftover works perfectly)
  • 1 cup frozen peas
  • 3/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, drained and chopped
  • 1/2 cup chicken broth
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook bow-tie pasta according to package directions until al dente, about 10–12 minutes. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain and set aside.
  2. Build the sauce. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the minced garlic and cook, stirring, for about 1 minute until fragrant. Stir in the chicken broth and heavy cream. Add thyme, onion powder, salt, and pepper.
  3. Add chicken and vegetables. Stir in the shredded chicken, sun-dried tomatoes, and frozen peas. Simmer over medium-low heat for 5–7 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens slightly and the peas are heated through.
  4. Combine with pasta. Add the drained pasta to the skillet and toss to coat evenly. If the sauce seems too thick, add a splash of the reserved pasta water and stir until you reach the consistency you like.
  5. Finish with Parmesan. Remove from heat and stir in the grated Parmesan. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
  6. Serve. Dish into bowls, top with extra Parmesan and fresh parsley if you like. Feed somebody who needs it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 235 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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