Chicken and Rice Dinner

Fourth of July is this week, and Hartford is dressing for the occasion — flags on porches, fireworks stands appearing at intersections, the particular civic pride that Americans perform every year with fire and noise. I understand the impulse. Puerto Rico is American territory but the Fourth of July was never our holiday the way it is here on the mainland — in Bayamón, it was a distant thing, a mainland holiday that we observed at a remove. Here in Hartford, after thirty-one years, I have adopted it the way I adopted the snow: with acceptance, some appreciation, and a firm belief that it is improved by Puerto Rican food.

I did the thing I have been thinking about for months. I made the group chat. Six of us — Luis in Orlando, Marisol in Bayamón, Roberto in Philadelphia, myself in Hartford, Ana in Bridgeport, Julio in San Juan. Six of the seven. The space where Héctor should be is the empty chair at every table we will ever share, and it is empty in this chat too, his absence so practiced now that it has become part of the shape of the family, the way a missing tooth changes your smile. You know it is there. You work around it. You smile anyway.

I named the chat "Los Delgado." Luis complained that it should be "Los y Las Delgado" because there are three women. Marisol sent a laughing emoji. Roberto, who has never embraced technology, sent his first message seventeen minutes after I added him: it was a photo of his lunch, a cheesesteak, with no caption. I replied with a photo of my sofrito, with no caption. He replied with a thumbs up. This is how brothers and sisters who do not live in the same city communicate: through food and emojis and the shorthand of people who grew up sleeping three to a room and learned to say everything in the five minutes before the lights went out.

Mami, who does not have a smartphone and will not have one regardless of how many times Sofía offers to help, was called by Ana to be informed about the chat. Ana put it on speaker. Mami asked what a group chat was. Ana explained. There was a long pause. Mami said, Tell Carmen to call me instead of texting. I texted Ana immediately to tell her that Mami's first reaction to the group chat was to request a phone call. Ana sent three laughing emojis. I made arroz con gandules for the Fourth and thought about my family, all six remaining of us, connected now by a thread of light through six cities and one island. It is not enough. It is something. It is what we have.

The arroz con gandules I made that Fourth of July was not a special occasion recipe — it was the thing my hands know how to do when my heart is sorting through something complicated. A chicken and rice dinner is the same kind of cooking: unhurried, aromatic, the sort of pot that fills the kitchen with something that smells like someone is home. I made it thinking of Luis in Orlando and Roberto sending a cheesesteak photo and Mami, who will never join the group chat, who wants me to call. You make the rice. You set the table. You eat, even alone, because that is how you stay connected to everyone you’re cooking for in your mind.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and drumsticks
1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can (15 oz) pigeon peas or pink beans, drained and rinsed
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken pieces dry and season on all sides with salt, pepper, paprika, and cumin. Let rest for 5 minutes while you prep the vegetables.
Brown the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken skin-side down and cook without moving for 5–6 minutes until deep golden brown. Flip and cook 3 minutes more. Transfer to a plate; do not discard the drippings.
Build the sofrito base. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion and bell pepper to the same pot and cook, stirring, for 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and oregano and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Toast the rice. Add the rice to the pot and stir to coat in the oil and vegetables. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently, until the rice is lightly translucent at the edges.
Add the liquids and beans. Pour in the chicken broth and diced tomatoes with their juices. Stir in the drained beans. Season the liquid with a pinch of salt and bring to a boil.
Nestle in the chicken and simmer. Return the browned chicken pieces to the pot, pressing them gently into the rice mixture skin-side up. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 25–28 minutes until the rice has absorbed the liquid and the chicken is cooked through (internal temperature 165°F).
Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let the pot sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff the rice gently around the chicken, scatter cilantro over the top, and bring the whole pot to the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken and Rice Dinner — The Pot I Made While Thinking of All Six of Us