Chicken Fajita Soup

January 2019. The quiet month, the planning month, the month the bakery breathes. I sit at the kitchen table with the numbers: seventy-six thousand gross, forty-nine thousand profit. Growing. Steadily. The way bread rises — not all at once but incrementally, grain by grain, dollar by dollar. The Juárez fund has eleven hundred dollars in it, which is a long way from a bakery in Anapra but a longer way from zero, and the distance from zero is the distance that matters.

Sofia has an idea. She always has an idea. This one: a bakery pop-up at the farmers' market in downtown El Paso. Every Saturday. A table, a display, conchas and empanadas and polvorones, the bakery meeting new customers in a new location. The farmers' market booth costs fifty dollars a week. Sofia ran the numbers: if they sell a hundred conchas at two dollars each, the profit after cost of goods is approximately a hundred and thirty dollars, minus the fifty-dollar booth fee, leaving eighty dollars clear. She presented this on a spreadsheet. She is thirteen. I said yes. I always say yes to Sofia. The yeses are compounding and the compounding is building a bakery that is bigger than what I imagined and closer to what Rosa would have wanted.

Diego started fifth grade's second semester with a new mission: he wants to enter the district science fair with a project on "sustainable energy solutions for desert communities." He is ten. His project title has more words than his age. Mr. Kaplan sent home a note: "Diego's ambition exceeds his materials budget. Can we discuss?" I called Mr. Kaplan. We discussed. I donated fifty dollars to his classroom materials fund. Mr. Kaplan said, "This is for all the students." I said, "I know." Diego doesn't need to know his mother funded his science fair. He needs to think the materials appeared because science provides for those who seek. Let him believe that a little longer.

I made menudo for New Year's Day. The ritual. The tripe soup that starts the year the way a prayer starts the day — with intention, with tradition, with the understanding that beginnings need nourishment and nourishment is what the kitchen provides. The menudo simmered for eight hours. The house smelled like hominy and chile and the particular mineral scent of tripe, which is not beautiful but is honest, and honest smells are the best smells because they don't hide what they are.

Camila has started writing in a journal. A real journal, pink (naturally), with a lock (she takes the lock seriously; she hides the key in a different place every day and has already forgotten where it is twice). She writes about her day, her songs, her opinions. Her first entry, which she showed me before the journal became private: "Today I ate a concha and sang a song and my mama is the best. The End." That is the first page of my daughter's journal, and it is the most accurate summary of my life that anyone has ever written, and I don't need to read the rest. The first page said everything.

Menudo is the ritual, but it is not always the recipe I can share — the tripe takes time and faith and a relationship with your butcher that not everyone has yet built. What I can share is this Chicken Fajita Soup, which carries the same spirit: the smoky chile warmth, the long simmer, the smell that fills a house and tells everyone inside that someone who loves them is at the stove. I made it the week after New Year’s, when the menudo was gone and the planning had begun and Sofia’s spreadsheets were covering the kitchen table, and it tasted like intention — which is exactly what January is supposed to taste like.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 red bell pepper, sliced into thin strips
1 green bell pepper, sliced into thin strips
1 yellow bell pepper, sliced into thin strips
1 can (14.5 oz) diced fire-roasted tomatoes, undrained
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup frozen or fresh corn kernels
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
Salt and black pepper to taste
Juice of 1 lime
Fresh cilantro, for serving
Optional toppings: sour cream, shredded Mexican cheese blend, tortilla strips, sliced avocado

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken dry and season on both sides with salt, pepper, 1 teaspoon chili powder, and 1/2 teaspoon cumin. Set aside.
Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken and sear 3–4 minutes per side until golden. Remove chicken to a plate — it does not need to be fully cooked through yet.
Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion to the same pot and cook 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add the peppers. Stir in all three bell peppers and cook 4–5 minutes, until they begin to soften and pick up a little color at the edges.
Build the broth. Add the fire-roasted tomatoes (with their juices), black beans, corn, and chicken broth. Stir in the remaining chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, and cayenne. Stir well to combine.
Return the chicken and simmer. Nestle the seared chicken back into the pot. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer 20–22 minutes, until chicken is fully cooked through and tender.
Shred the chicken. Remove chicken from the pot and shred using two forks. Return the shredded chicken to the pot and stir to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt, pepper, or more cayenne.
Finish and serve. Stir in lime juice. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro and any optional toppings. Serve immediately with warm tortillas or crusty bread on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Fajita Soup — A Bowl of Intention to Start the Year Right