By Helen's garden is expanding. She announced Monday morning — over oatmeal, which is how major decisions are announced in this household — that she wants to add a flower bed along the south side of the house. Daylilies. Coneflowers. Black-eyed Susans. "Perennials," she said, as though the word itself were the argument. Perennials come back. They don't ask permission. They don't require replanting. You put them in once and they return every year, faithful as the sun, reliable in a way that most things in life are not.
I said, "I'll dig the bed." She said she'd already started. I went outside and found her with a shovel, breaking sod along the foundation, and I thought: this woman. This woman who retired five days ago and is already redesigning the landscape. I picked up the other shovel. We dug together. Frost supervised from the porch, which is his primary contribution to any outdoor project.
For dinner, I made fish chowder. Not clam chowder — fish chowder, with haddock from the fishmonger in Burlington who gets it fresh from the coast twice a week. You start the same way — salt pork, onion, potatoes — but the fish goes in at the end, in chunks, and you barely cook it. Three minutes. The fish should be just opaque, tender, falling apart at the suggestion of a spoon. The chowder is thick with cream and potatoes and the fish dissolves into it like a cloud into sky. It's the ocean, filtered through Vermont, which is how I like my seafood: secondhand and improved by dairy.
David called to say James is crawling everywhere and has developed a taste for dog food, which David is addressing with mixed success. I told him I ate dog food once, when I was five, and it didn't kill me. Helen, listening from the kitchen, said, "That explains a lot." She was kidding. Probably.
Sarah sent photos of Lucy at three weeks. She's starting to focus on faces, which means she can now see the world she's been tossed into and is, from what I can tell, unimpressed. Fair enough. The world will have to earn her. Bergstrom women — even the ones who are technically Coles — don't give their approval easily. You have to show up. You have to be consistent. You have to, metaphorically and sometimes literally, split the difference.
The flower bed is dug. The chowder is made. Helen is home, and the house has a garden now. The garden has always been there. But the flowers are new. The flowers are Helen saying: I'm here now. I'm staying. Watch this.
The fish chowder I described above is the version of this story I want to remember — but the truth is that on the nights when the Burlington fishmonger hasn’t gotten his delivery in, or when my back is still talking to me from a long afternoon of breaking sod, this pesto chicken is what actually gets made. It has the same quality I was reaching for with the chowder: something sturdy and generous that doesn’t ask much of you at the end of a day when the ground has. The cannellini beans carry it the way potatoes carry a chowder — quietly, reliably, doing more than their share.
Pesto Chicken over Sautéed Cannellini Beans
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1/3 cup prepared basil pesto, plus more for serving
- 2 cans (15 oz each) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- Fresh basil leaves, for garnish
Instructions
- Season and sear the chicken. Pat the chicken breasts dry and season both sides with salt and pepper. Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and cook for 6—7 minutes per side, until golden brown and cooked through to an internal temperature of 165°F.
- Finish with pesto. In the last 2 minutes of cooking, spread the pesto evenly over the tops of the chicken breasts and reduce heat to low. Let the pesto warm and adhere. Transfer chicken to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
- Sautée the garlic. Wipe the skillet if needed and add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat. Add the minced garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, for about 60 seconds until fragrant but not browned.
- Build the beans. Add the drained cannellini beans to the skillet along with the chicken broth. Cook, stirring occasionally and lightly smashing some of the beans against the side of the pan, for 5—6 minutes until the broth has mostly absorbed and the beans are creamy and heated through. Stir in the lemon juice and adjust salt to taste.
- Plate and serve. Spoon the sautéed beans onto plates or into shallow bowls. Slice or place the pesto chicken on top. Finish with grated Parmesan and a few fresh basil leaves. Pass extra pesto at the table.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 430 | Protein: 46g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 560mg