← Back to Blog

Mushroom Chicken Bites — The Recipe I Finally Wrote Down for Denise

Mother's Day. They gave me my garden day. Sort of. Denise dropped off breakfast at eight a.m. — a basket with muffins and fruit and a thermos of coffee — and said, "We'll be back at five for dinner." I said, "I'm not cooking dinner." She said, "We know. We're bringing it." Then she left, and I stood on my back porch with coffee and the morning and the whole yard to myself, and I exhaled in a way I don't think I'd exhaled in months.

I spent six hours in that garden. I weeded. I staked the tomatoes, which are already knee-high and reaching. I thinned the okra — you have to thin okra or they crowd each other out, like siblings. I talked to the pepper plants, which are blooming with those little white flowers that mean peppers are coming. I sat in Earl's chair — the lawn chair that has a permanent dent in the shape of him — and I closed my eyes and I listened to the birds and the wind in the live oak and the distant sound of the marsh, and I was so completely at peace that I fell asleep for twenty minutes. I woke up with a sunburn on my nose and a mockingbird yelling at me from the fence. Worth it.

At five, they came. All of them. Denise and Robert with a casserole dish. Kayla with a salad. Earl Jr. called from Atlanta and Patricia called from Jacksonville. The casserole was chicken and rice — Denise's version, which is not my version, which is slightly wrong in ways I chose not to mention because it was Mother's Day and because love tastes better than accuracy. We ate in the yard. Earl sat in his chair — the real one, not the garden one — and the evening light came through the live oak and made everything golden, and I thought: this is what I asked for. Not the food. Not the family. The quiet first, and then the fullness. Both. A woman needs both.

I gave Denise the recipe for my chicken and rice afterward. I said, "Yours was lovely, baby, but next time use chicken thighs instead of breast. Thighs have more fat and fat is flavor and I don't care what the magazine says." She said, "You couldn't just say thank you, could you?" I said, "I did say thank you. I also said use thighs." This is how love works in my family. You say thank you and then you correct the recipe. Both are love.

Now go on and feed somebody.

I told Denise to use thighs, and I meant it — so here’s the version I actually make when I want chicken that tastes like something. These Mushroom Chicken Bites are what I reach for when I want a dish that’s quick enough for a weeknight but good enough for a yard full of family eating in the evening light. Fat is flavor, the mushrooms bring an earthiness that pairs beautifully with the pan sauce, and if you make this with breast meat, I will know, and I will say something.

Mushroom Chicken Bites

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 22 minutes | Total Time: 32 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
  • 8 oz cremini mushrooms, thickly sliced
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup heavy cream
  • 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper, divided
  • 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

  1. Season the chicken. Pat the chicken thigh pieces dry with paper towels. Toss with 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, and the smoked paprika until evenly coated.
  2. Sear the chicken. Heat 1 tablespoon butter and the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until the butter stops foaming. Add the chicken in a single layer — do not crowd the pan — and sear undisturbed for 4 to 5 minutes until deeply golden. Flip and cook 3 to 4 minutes more. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
  3. Cook the mushrooms. Reduce heat to medium. Add 1 tablespoon butter to the same skillet. Add the mushrooms in a single layer and cook without stirring for 3 minutes, until browned on the bottom. Stir and cook 2 minutes more. Season with remaining salt and pepper.
  4. Build the sauce. Push the mushrooms to the edge of the pan. Add the remaining tablespoon of butter to the center and cook the garlic, stirring, for about 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour in the chicken broth, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Stir in the heavy cream and thyme. Let the sauce simmer for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it thickens slightly.
  5. Finish and serve. Return the chicken and any resting juices to the skillet. Simmer for 3 to 4 minutes, turning the pieces once, until the chicken is cooked through and glossy with sauce. Taste and adjust seasoning. Scatter with fresh parsley and serve immediately, over rice if you’d like to make something of it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 375 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 25g | Carbs: 5g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 430mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 59 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?