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Chipotle Pesto Chicken Burrito Bowls —mdash; What I Make When Words Are Not Enough

Mami had her first medical checkup in Hartford this week. I took her to the doctor — a woman, which I insisted on because Mami is from a generation that does not undress in front of male doctors even when the male doctor has seen ten thousand bodies and does not care about any of them individually, but Mami cares and Mami comfort matters more than doctor convenience.

The doctor said Mami is in remarkably good shape for eighty-one. Blood pressure slightly high. Some arthritis. Memory showing early signs of — the doctor paused and I knew what she was going to say before she said it. Decline. Early cognitive decline. Not dementia. Not yet. But the beginning of the fog that comes for everyone eventually, the fog that took Abuela Consuelo in her eighties, the fog that I have been watching approach Mami from a distance the way you watch a storm on the horizon. You know it is coming. You cannot stop it. You can only prepare.

Mami does not know I am worried. Or she knows and she does not discuss it because Luz Maria Ortiz does not discuss weakness the way other people do not discuss religion at dinner — it is a topic that leads to discomfort and she avoids discomfort the way she avoids canned beans. She sat in the car after the appointment and said, The doctor is nice. I said, Yes, Mami. She said, She said I am healthy. I said, Yes, Mami. She said, I told you I would be fine. I said, Yes, Mami. Three yeses. All of them true. Some of them incomplete.

I came home and I stood in the kitchen and I cooked. What else would I do? I made Mami favorite — arroz con pollo, the version she makes, the one I have been trying to replicate my entire adult life. I used her proportions, her timing, her sofrito. I brought a plate to her apartment. She tasted it. She said, Close, Carmen. Getting closer. One day you will get it right. I said, Mami, I have been making this for thirty years. She said, Then you have thirty more to practice. She ate the whole plate. She fell asleep in the green recliner. I covered her with a blanket — the same instinct, the same blanket energy that Rosa gets on my couch — and I drove home and I stood at my stove and I thought: thirty more years. Give me thirty more years, Mami. Give me thirty more years of close and almost and more garlic. Give me the fog, I will take the fog, just give me the years. Please. Thirty more. That is all I ask.

Arroz con pollo is Mami’s, not mine yet — she told me so herself, between bites, from the green recliner. But the instinct to cook when I don’t know what else to do? That one is entirely mine. These chipotle pesto chicken burrito bowls have become what I make on my own nights, the nights after I drive home and stand at the stove and need something bold and warm and full of garlic — something that says: I am still here, I am still feeding people I love, everything is going to be close enough. They’re not Mami’s recipe. But they are very much made in her spirit.

Chipotle Pesto Chicken Burrito Bowls

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

For the chipotle chicken:

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
  • 2 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, minced
  • 2 tablespoons adobo sauce (from the can)
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • Juice of 1 lime

For the cilantro-lime rice:

  • 1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice
  • 2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1/2 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
  • Juice of 1 lime
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt

For the chipotle pesto:

  • 1 cup fresh cilantro, packed
  • 1/4 cup pepitas (pumpkin seeds), toasted
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 1 chipotle pepper in adobo
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

For the bowls:

  • 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 cup corn kernels (fresh, frozen and thawed, or canned and drained)
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 large avocado, sliced
  • 1/2 cup pico de gallo or fresh salsa
  • 1/4 cup sour cream
  • Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

  1. Marinate the chicken. In a medium bowl, combine the minced chipotle peppers, adobo sauce, garlic, olive oil, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and lime juice. Add the chicken thighs and toss until thoroughly coated. Let marinate for at least 15 minutes at room temperature, or cover and refrigerate for up to 4 hours.
  2. Cook the rice. Bring chicken broth to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir in the rice and salt, reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and cook for 18 minutes until all liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat, let stand 5 minutes, then fluff with a fork and fold in the chopped cilantro and lime juice.
  3. Make the chipotle pesto. Add cilantro, pepitas, garlic, chipotle pepper, lime juice, and salt to a food processor or blender. Pulse a few times to combine, then drizzle in the olive oil while processing until the pesto is slightly chunky but cohesive. Taste and adjust salt or lime as needed.
  4. Sear the chicken. Heat a large skillet or grill pan over medium-high heat. Remove chicken from marinade and cook 6 to 7 minutes per side, until cooked through, slightly charred, and an instant-read thermometer reads 165°F. Transfer to a cutting board and rest 5 minutes before slicing against the grain.
  5. Warm the beans and corn. In the same skillet over medium heat, add the black beans, corn, and cumin. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes until heated through. Season lightly with salt.
  6. Assemble the bowls. Divide the cilantro-lime rice evenly among four bowls. Layer on the sliced chicken, black beans and corn, avocado, and pico de gallo. Spoon chipotle pesto generously over the top and finish with a dollop of sour cream. Serve immediately with lime wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 625 | Protein: 43g | Fat: 25g | Carbs: 57g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 880mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 103 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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