Chicken and Artichoke Fettuccine Alfredo

Started cleaning out the garage this week because if I'm going to be home every day I'm going to need a project that isn't eating, and the garage has been accumulating construction tools and lawn equipment and boxes of things I moved from the previous house and never opened for eighteen years. Found my hard hat from the Blue Diamond mine — white, dented, with my name written on the side in black marker in handwriting I barely recognize as my own. I held it and felt the weight of it and smelled the plastic and for a moment I was twenty-three years old and crawling through a four-foot tunnel with coal dust in my lungs and a headlamp that flickered. I put the hard hat on a shelf in the garage. I didn't throw it away. Some things you keep not because you want them but because throwing them away would be lying about who you are.

Made chicken and dumplings Wednesday because the weather turned cold again — Kentucky spring is a liar that promises warm and delivers forty-degree rain — and chicken and dumplings is what Betty made when the weather couldn't decide what it wanted to be. Whole chicken, simmered three hours, the meat falling off the bones. Stock strained and brought back to a simmer. Carrots, celery, a little onion. Then the dumplings — flour, baking powder, salt, butter worked in with my fingers, milk until it's sticky. Dropped by the spoonful. Lid on. Twenty minutes. Don't lift the lid. Betty was adamant: you lift the lid, the dumplings fall, and fallen dumplings are a failure of patience, not technique.

The dumplings didn't fall. They were light and tender and the broth was rich and the chicken was shredding into the soup and the kitchen smelled like every sick day I ever had as a child, when Betty would prop me up on the couch with a quilt and bring me a bowl and the fever would break and the dumplings would heal whatever the Tylenol couldn't. I am fifty-four years old and I still believe that chicken and dumplings can fix things that medicine cannot. I will not apologize for this belief. The evidence supports it.

Amber called Friday night from the hospital. Long shift, tired voice. She said she lost a patient — an older woman, cardiac arrest, they worked on her for forty minutes. Amber didn't cry on the phone but I could hear where the tears would be if she let them. I said I'm sorry, baby. She said it's part of the job. I said that doesn't make it part of you. She was quiet for a minute. Then she said thanks, Daddy. Two words that cost me nothing and were worth everything.

The chicken and dumplings did what it always does — it settled something in me that the week had unsettled. But when Amber called Friday night and I heard that hollow kind of tired in her voice, I found myself back in the kitchen on Saturday, wanting to make something warm again, something worth the effort, something that would travel well if she ever made it home for a weekend. This chicken and artichoke fettuccine alfredo is the kind of dish I’d put in front of her without a word and let the food do the talking — rich and honest and worth every minute it takes to make it right.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz fettuccine pasta
1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 can (14 oz) artichoke hearts, drained and quartered
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook fettuccine according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water before draining. Drain and set aside.
Cook the chicken. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, melt 2 tablespoons butter. Season chicken pieces with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until golden on the outside and cooked through. Transfer chicken to a plate and set aside.
Saute the artichokes. In the same skillet over medium heat, melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Add artichoke hearts and cook for 3–4 minutes until lightly browned on the edges. Add minced garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Build the alfredo sauce. Pour heavy cream into the skillet and bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Stir in Parmesan cheese a little at a time, stirring constantly until the sauce is smooth and slightly thickened, about 4–5 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using.
Combine. Return the cooked chicken to the skillet. Add the drained fettuccine and toss everything together to coat evenly. If the sauce is too thick, add reserved pasta water a tablespoon at a time until it reaches your desired consistency.
Serve. Divide into bowls and top with fresh parsley and additional Parmesan if desired. Serve immediately while hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken and Artichoke Fettuccine Alfredo — When the Kitchen Smells Like Home