By The handoff was Saturday, December 23, at 10 AM. Horseshoe Bend gas station. Mason had his backpack. Lily had her horse backpack. They were dressed in their matching Germany jerseys from Kyle, which I thought was a nice touch of family solidarity for a drive to their father's house. I buckled them in. I kissed their heads. I said, "Have the best Christmas, babies. I love you." Mason said, "We love you too, Mama." Lily said, "We love you too, Mama, and also I want a horse." Scott pulled up. I transferred the car seats. The kids went to his truck. They waved. I waved. He drove away. I sat in the gas station parking lot for twenty minutes and then I drove home.
Christmas Eve alone. The house was quiet in a way I'd never experienced — not peaceful quiet, not the quiet of children sleeping, but the blank, echoless quiet of absence. Hank followed me from room to room, confused by the missing humans. I sat on the couch. I turned on the TV. I turned off the TV. I called Brett. He and Claire were doing Christmas Eve at Claire's parents' house. He said, "Are you okay?" I said, "I'm fine." He said, "Heather." I said, "I will be fine." He said, "I know." And he let it go, because Brett knows when to push and when to let a person sit with what they're sitting with.
I cooked. Of course I cooked. I made myself a Christmas Eve dinner for one: a steak (small, good quality, the splurge of a woman spending Christmas alone and determined to do it well), roasted potatoes, a green salad, and a glass of wine. I set the table for one. I lit a candle. I ate the steak and it was excellent and the kitchen was warm and Hank lay at my feet and the candle flickered and I was alone but I was not lost. There is a difference. Alone is a circumstance. Lost is a choice. I chose not to be lost.
Christmas morning, I slept until 9 AM. Nine. The luxury of a childless Christmas morning. I made myself coffee and a cinnamon roll (from the freezer batch) and sat on the couch and called Mom at 10. She cried. I cried. We didn't say much. We didn't need to.
The kids came back December 26. Mason brought me a drawing he'd made at Scott's: "Mama at Home with Hank." Me on the couch, Hank beside me, the Christmas tree in the corner. He'd drawn it on Christmas Day, thinking of me. I put it on the refrigerator next to all the other drawings, and it is the most valuable piece of art in the world.
Our Christmas was December 26. I made the full dinner: roast chicken (not turkey — we needed something different), mashed potatoes, rolls, pie. We opened presents — Mason got books and a geology kit, Lily got a toy horse (of course) and art supplies. We were a day late and it didn't matter. Christmas is not a date. Christmas is the people. And the people were home.
When I decided we weren’t doing turkey this year — that we needed something that felt like ours, not a carbon copy of a holiday that had already been so strange — I wanted something that looked like a celebration without demanding the whole day. These stuffed chicken rolls were exactly that: golden and impressive on the plate, but grounded in flavors Mason and Lily actually love. We set the table on December 26th, the candle was back out, and the kitchen smelled like something worth coming home to. Because it was.
Feta, Bacon and Sundried Tomato Stuffed Chicken Rolls
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
- 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 4 strips bacon, cooked and crumbled
- 1/3 cup sundried tomatoes (oil-packed), drained and roughly chopped
- 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- Toothpicks or kitchen twine, for securing
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a baking dish or rimmed sheet pan with parchment paper or lightly grease with cooking spray.
- Make the filling. In a small bowl, combine the crumbled feta, crumbled bacon, sundried tomatoes, parsley, garlic, and oregano. Stir together until evenly mixed.
- Butterfly the chicken. Place each chicken breast on a cutting board. Using a sharp knife, carefully slice horizontally through the thickest part of the breast, stopping just before the edge so it opens like a book. Gently pound the opened breast to an even 1/4-inch thickness using a meat mallet or rolling pin.
- Fill and roll. Season the inside of each breast lightly with salt and pepper. Spoon a quarter of the filling mixture down the center of each breast. Roll the chicken tightly around the filling and secure with 2—3 toothpicks or tie with kitchen twine.
- Sear for color. Heat olive oil in an oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken rolls seam-side down and sear for 2—3 minutes per side until golden brown all over.
- Roast to finish. Transfer the skillet (or move rolls to the prepared baking dish) to the preheated oven. Roast for 20—25 minutes, or until the internal temperature of the chicken reaches 165°F on an instant-read thermometer.
- Rest and serve. Remove from oven and let the chicken rolls rest for 5 minutes before removing toothpicks or twine. Slice on the diagonal to reveal the filling, and serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 520mg