Chicken Sorrentino

Something beautiful happened this week. Colette, who has been drawing since she could hold a crayon, drew a portrait of Joey. Not from a photograph — from the framed picture on the mantel, the one of me and Joey at the crawfish boil. She sat on the living room floor with her colored pencils and drew him, and when she showed me, I had to sit down.

She got him right. Not perfectly — she's eight, the proportions are a little off, the hands aren't quite hands — but the face is right. The smile is right. That big, wide, Joey Beaumont grin under the Saints cap. She'd captured something that photographs miss: the energy. The way Joey's smile took up a room. She said, "That's Papaw Joey, Papa. Is it good?" And I said, "It's perfect, cher," and my voice did a thing it doesn't usually do and Colette looked at me with concern and I said, "Happy tears, baby. Happy tears."

I put the drawing next to the photograph on the mantel. They sit side by side now: the picture of the real Joey and Colette's version, and somehow Colette's version is more alive. That's what art does that photographs can't — it adds the artist's love to the image, and love is visible if you know how to look. Mama came up that weekend and I showed her, and she held the drawing and didn't say anything for a long time, and then she said, "Elle l'a vu," which means "she saw him." Not "she drew him." She saw him. Mama understands the difference.

Made a chicken and andouille gumbo this week even though it's July and gumbo is not a summer dish. I made it because the drawing made me miss Joey, and gumbo is what I make when I miss Joey, and the rules about seasonal cooking can go hang when your daughter draws your dead father from a photograph and captures his soul with colored pencils. The gumbo was dark and rich and too hot for July and exactly right for the inside of my heart. We ate it with the AC on high and the windows shut and pretended it was October, because food is time travel, and the right bowl of gumbo can take you anywhere you need to be.

The gumbo carried us through that week, but it’s not the only dish I reach for when I need food to do something more than feed — when I need it to hold space. Chicken Sorrentino is another one of those recipes: layered, rich, built slow, the kind of cooking that keeps your hands busy while your heart does its work. If you’re in a season where the meal needs to mean something, this is the one I’d put in front of you.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded to even thickness
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, for dredging
Salt and black pepper, to taste
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium eggplant, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
4 slices prosciutto di Parma
1 cup fresh mozzarella, sliced
1 cup marinara sauce (store-bought or homemade)
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Fresh basil, for garnish

Instructions

Prep the eggplant. Salt the eggplant slices on both sides and let them rest on paper towels for 10 minutes to draw out moisture. Pat dry before cooking.
Cook the eggplant. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium heat. Sauté the eggplant slices 2–3 minutes per side until golden and tender. Remove and set aside.
Dredge and sear the chicken. Season the chicken breasts with salt and pepper, then dredge lightly in flour, shaking off the excess. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil in the same skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the chicken 3–4 minutes per side until golden. Remove and set aside; do not cook through yet.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add garlic to the skillet and cook 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour in the white wine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Let it reduce by half, about 2 minutes. Stir in the marinara sauce and butter, and simmer 3 minutes.
Layer and finish. Return the chicken to the skillet. Top each breast with a slice of prosciutto, a round or two of cooked eggplant, and a generous layer of fresh mozzarella. Spoon a little sauce over each piece and sprinkle with Parmigiano-Reggiano.
Bake. Preheat oven to 375°F. Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake 15–18 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through (internal temperature 165°F) and the mozzarella is melted and bubbling.
Rest and serve. Remove from oven and let rest 5 minutes. Spoon extra sauce from the pan over each piece, garnish with fresh basil, and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Sorrentino — The Bowl That Carries You Back to Where You Need to Be