Chicken and Stars Soup

The Mesa Grill Masters competition is Saturday. I've been prepping like it's the state championship — trimming briskets, testing rub ratios, dialing in the smoker temperature, and ignoring everything else in my life with a focus that Jessica describes as "borderline obsessive" and I describe as "preparation."

This is my redemption event. Fourth in brisket and sixth in ribs at the Phoenix Flame in April. I've spent five months reworking the rib rub, adjusting the brisket technique, and studying competition BBQ with the seriousness of a man who takes his hobbies too seriously. Jessica supports this. She supports everything I do with food, even when it means the garage smells like smoke at 2 AM and the credit card statement shows six different orders for specialty wood chips.

The brisket plan: prime grade, fourteen pounds, trimmed to a quarter-inch fat cap. Salt, pepper, garlic powder — simple rub, let the meat talk. Post oak smoke for twelve hours at 250 degrees, wrapped in butcher paper at the stall, pulled at 203 internal when the probe slides in like butter. No rushing. No checking every thirty minutes. Trust the process. Trust the fire.

The rib plan: baby backs, the new ancho-cocoa rub, pecan smoke for three hours, wrapped with apple cider vinegar and brown sugar for two more. Pull when the bones bend but don't break. Glaze with a thin layer of my homemade BBQ sauce — ancho, tomato, brown sugar, vinegar, a touch of coffee (just a touch, the coffee stays in the sauce where it belongs, not the rub).

Roberto is coming to watch. He sat in the Arizona sun for four hours at my first competition and I know he'll do it again because that's what Roberto Rivera does: he shows up. He doesn't coach me, doesn't criticize, doesn't interfere. He just stands behind the barrier and watches his son cook and nods when the smoke looks right. His presence is enough. His presence has always been enough.

Sofia asked if she could come. I said yes, but warned her it would be boring — hours of waiting, watching smoke, adjusting vents. She said, "I'm not bored when you cook, Daddy." This child will be the death of me.

Made chicken tortilla soup for the family tonight — quick, warming, the kind of meal you make when you've been obsessing over competition food all week and need to cook something that takes less than fourteen hours. Shredded rotisserie chicken (no shame in shortcuts), homemade broth, roasted tomatoes, Hatch green chiles from the freezer, cumin, lime. Topped with crispy tortilla strips, avocado, sour cream, cilantro. Sofia ate two bowls. Diego ate his body weight in tortilla strips. Jessica had wine with hers because she's earned it.

With the smoker schedule locked, the rubs measured, and my head already half-inside Saturday’s competition, I needed dinner to be the easy part of the day—something Sofia and Diego would actually eat without negotiation, something Jessica could enjoy with that well-earned glass of wine. Chicken and Stars Soup is that recipe for our family: humble, fast, deeply satisfying, and the kind of bowl that makes everyone at the table slow down for a minute. When competition week gets loud, this soup is the quiet thing that holds it all together.

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

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into rounds
3 stalks celery, sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 cups shredded cooked chicken (rotisserie works great)
1 cup stelline (star-shaped) pasta
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried parsley
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 bay leaf
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Saute the vegetables. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the diced onion, carrots, and celery. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 5–6 minutes until the onion softens and the carrots begin to brighten.
Add garlic and aromatics. Stir in the minced garlic, dried thyme, and dried parsley. Cook for 1 minute until fragrant. Season with salt and pepper.
Build the broth. Pour in the chicken broth and add the bay leaf. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to a gentle boil.
Add pasta and chicken. Stir in the stelline pasta and shredded chicken. Reduce heat to medium and cook for 8–10 minutes, or until the pasta is tender and the vegetables are cooked through.
Finish and season. Remove the bay leaf. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. If the soup thickens too much as it sits, add a splash of broth to loosen.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh chopped parsley if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken and Stars Soup — The Quick Weeknight Win Between Competition Prep Sessions