Creamy Baked Chicken

Move-in day at LSU. August. The truck is packed with everything a college freshman needs: sheets, towels, a laptop, and a cast-iron skillet. I insisted on the skillet. Danielle said, "He's in a dorm, Tommy." I said, "He's a Beaumont." The skillet went. The journal went too — not the original (that stays home), but a copy. A typed copy of every recipe, printed and bound by Danielle because Danielle is the woman who binds things: books, families, husbands to the earth.

I carried boxes. Luc carried boxes. We didn't talk much. The dorm was small, the roommate was from Shreveport and seemed nice, and when the boxes were empty and the room was set up and the moment came to leave, Luc hugged me. Not a handshake. A HUG. The first hug in three years. And he said, "Thanks, Dad. For everything." And I said, "Make the roux, cher. Every Sunday. Call your mother." And he said, "I will." And I walked to the truck and Danielle walked beside me and we drove home in silence, and the house was quieter by one person and the table was emptier by one chair and the Corolla was not in the driveway, and I sat on the screened porch and looked at the pit and the yard and the neighborhood where I've lived for thirteen years and I thought: this is the leaving. This is the point. This is what the roux becomes. It becomes a boy in a dorm room with a cast-iron skillet and a recipe book and the knowledge that the kitchen is where you start when you don't know where to start. Go, cher. Go and become. The pot is here when you come back.

I told Luc to make the roux every Sunday, and I meant it — but I also knew the first Sunday in that dorm room might not be a roux Sunday. The first Sunday might just be survival. So if you’re the one standing in a small kitchen with a cast-iron skillet and no idea where to start, start here: creamy baked chicken, four ingredients that forgive everything, and a pan that already knows what to do. This is the recipe I would have left in the journal if I’d thought of it in time. Make it when the room is quiet and you need the kitchen to feel like home.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
1 can (10.5 oz) cream of mushroom soup
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 375°F. Place your cast-iron skillet (or a 9x13 baking dish) on the counter while the oven heats.
Season the chicken. Pat the chicken breasts dry with a paper towel. Season both sides generously with garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper.
Sear the chicken. Melt the butter in your cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken breasts and sear for 2–3 minutes per side until golden. They don’t need to be cooked through — you’re building color and flavor for the oven to finish.
Make the cream sauce. In a bowl, whisk together the cream of mushroom soup, sour cream, and chicken broth until smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed.
Combine and bake. Pour the cream sauce over and around the seared chicken in the skillet. Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven and bake uncovered for 30–35 minutes, until the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 165°F and the sauce is bubbling and slightly golden at the edges.
Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let the chicken rest for 5 minutes before serving. Spoon the pan sauce over the top. Garnish with fresh parsley if you have it. Serve over rice, egg noodles, or with crusty bread to catch every bit of the sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Baked Chicken — What You Make the First Sunday Away From Home