Creamed Chicken in Patty Shells

Noah joined the school jazz band. This was unexpected — Noah, who builds robots and speaks in engineering specifications and approaches life with the precision of a caliper, picked up a saxophone. He heard the jazz band at an assembly and said, "I want to try that." I rented a saxophone from the music store for thirty dollars a month and watched my son put his analytical mind to the task of making music, which is the least analytical thing a person can do, and the result is beautiful chaos — screeching scales at seven PM, the sound of a boy learning that some things can't be engineered.

He practices in his room with the door closed. The notes drift through the house like smoke — sometimes recognizable, sometimes not, always earnest. Kevin said, "Is that music or is he torturing a goose?" I said, "It's music in progress." Kevin said, "Progress is generous." I said, "Hush. He's trying something new." Kevin hushed. You don't mock a child who's trying. You endure the scales. You clap at the first recital. You buy earplugs quietly and wear them privately and never, ever let them see.

I made a big pot of chicken and dumplings this week because fall chicken and dumplings is a tradition I didn't know I was building until it built itself — three falls in a row now, the first cold snap, the dumplings go in. Whole chicken simmered to broth, carrots, celery, drop dumplings from Marlene's recipe. The kitchen fills with steam and the house fills with the smell of flour and chicken and the specific warmth that only soup can provide — not heat, warmth, which is different. Heat is temperature. Warmth is safety.

Apple picking is this weekend. Third year at the orchard outside Pella. I'm only getting twenty pounds this year because I've learned my lesson about apple overcommitment. Twenty pounds will make six quarts of applesauce, one apple crisp, one pie, and leave enough for eating fresh. This is the math of a woman who has been burned by forty pounds of apples and lives to tell the tale. Twenty pounds. Not a pound more. Unless the Honeycrisps are exceptional, in which case all bets are off.

The chicken and dumplings tradition is mine now — I didn’t plan it, it just settled in like the cold — and when I want to carry that same steamy, flour-and-chicken warmth into a weeknight without the full afternoon commitment, Creamed Chicken in Patty Shells is exactly where I land. It has the same spirit: tender pulled chicken in a rich, golden sauce with a pastry element to soak it all up, the kind of dish you set on the table and watch everyone go quiet over. This is what I make when the saxophonist is still practicing, the apples are sitting on the counter, and we all just need dinner to feel like a blanket.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 frozen puff pastry patty shells (such as Pepperidge Farm)
3 cups cooked chicken, pulled or diced (rotisserie or poached works well)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup yellow onion, finely diced
2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 3/4 cups chicken broth
3/4 cup half-and-half
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

Bake the shells. Preheat oven to 400°F. Place frozen patty shells on an ungreased baking sheet and bake for 18—20 minutes, until deep golden and puffed. Remove the tops and hollow out any soft dough from the centers. Set aside and keep warm.
Sauté the aromatics. In a large saucepan or skillet, melt butter over medium heat. Add the diced onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5—6 minutes until softened and translucent.
Build the sauce. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and stir to coat, cooking for 1 minute to eliminate the raw flour taste. Slowly pour in the chicken broth, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Add the half-and-half and continue to whisk until the sauce is smooth and beginning to thicken, about 4—5 minutes over medium heat.
Add the chicken and peas. Stir in the cooked chicken, thawed peas, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the filling is heated through and the sauce coats the back of a spoon. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Finish and serve. Spoon the creamed chicken generously into and over each warm patty shell. Replace the pastry lids at an angle if desired. Garnish with chopped parsley and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamed Chicken in Patty Shells — The Warmth That Only Soup Can Provide