Creamy Chicken and Rice Soup

Something happened this week that I need to sit with before I tell you about it, but I'm going to tell you anyway because that's what this is — me and you, sitting at this table, and I don't hold back at my table.

Earl had a spell on Wednesday. That's what we call it — a spell — because the medical words are too sharp and we've been cut enough. He was in the garden, just sitting in his chair watching me water the tomatoes, and he went gray. Not pale — gray. The color left his face like somebody pulled a plug. He put his hand on his chest and he said, "Dot," and the way he said my name I knew. I knew it the way I knew when Michael's phone rang and it was the highway patrol. I knew it in my bones.

I called 911. They came in eight minutes that felt like eight hours. The paramedics said his blood pressure had dropped and his heart was in an irregular rhythm — atrial fibrillation, they called it. They took him to Memorial. Kayla met us there — she practically ran from the Piggly Wiggly, still in her work vest. Denise came. Earl Jr. was on the phone from Atlanta, Patricia from Jacksonville. My whole family, pulled to the center by fear, the way gravity works.

They kept him overnight. Adjusted his medication. Ran tests. By Thursday afternoon, he was sitting up in the hospital bed complaining about the food, which is how I know he was going to be okay, because Earl Henderson does not complain about food unless he's feeling well enough to know the difference. I brought him a container of my chicken and rice from home and the nurse said he's not supposed to have outside food. I said, "Ma'am, with all due respect, I have been keeping this man alive with my cooking for forty years. Your Jell-O is not going to improve on my track record." She let me leave the container.

He came home Friday. I didn't sleep Friday night. I lay in bed and listened to him breathe, the same way I did when he first came home from the ICU in 2003. I counted breaths. I made deals with God. I said, "Lord, you took Willie James and Michael and Mama and Daddy and James Jr. You can't have Earl yet. I'm not done with him." I don't know if God listens to bargains made in the dark by sixty-year-old women, but Earl was breathing in the morning, so I'm going to say He does.

I didn't cook much this week. Denise brought food. The church sent a casserole. Kayla made soup — chicken noodle, from a recipe I taught her, and she added too much salt but it was warm and she made it with her hands and that matters more than seasoning. I ate it and I said, "This is perfect," and she knew I was lying and she loved me for it.

Now go on and feed somebody. Hold them close while you do it. You never know.

Kayla’s soup got me thinking about this one — the version I’ve been making since before she was born, the one I reach for when somebody needs feeding and words aren’t enough. Chicken noodle is her recipe now, but creamy chicken and rice is still mine, and after a week of counting Earl’s breaths and eating other people’s casseroles, I needed to stand at my own stove and make something with my hands. Here’s how I do it.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
3 stalks celery, sliced
6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1 cup whole milk or half-and-half
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

Sauté the vegetables. Heat the olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4 to 5 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and carrots and cook another 2 minutes until fragrant.
Brown the chicken. Push the vegetables to the sides of the pot and add the chicken pieces in a single layer. Let them sit without stirring for 2 minutes to develop a little color, then stir everything together.
Build the broth. Pour in the chicken broth. Add the thyme, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat.
Add the rice. Stir in the uncooked rice. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer for 15 to 18 minutes, until the rice is tender and the chicken is cooked through.
Make the cream base. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Slowly pour in the milk or half-and-half, whisking until smooth and slightly thickened, about 2 to 3 minutes.
Finish the soup. Pour the cream mixture into the pot and stir gently to combine. Simmer uncovered for 3 to 4 more minutes until the soup has a silky, creamy consistency. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley. This soup travels well in a sealed container if you happen to need to bring it somewhere important.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Chicken and Rice Soup — The Bowl I Brought Earl When the Hospital Food Wasn’t Going to Cut It