Quick Skillet Chicken with Grapes — The Chicken Salad That Made Me Forget the Stove Existed

Ninety-seven degrees on Wednesday. Ninety-seven. The air was so thick you could chew it. The garden was gasping — I watered twice a day, morning and evening, and still the basil was drooping and the tomato leaves were curling at the edges, trying to hold onto what moisture they could. Earl sat on the porch and said, "It's hot." I said, "Earl, we have lived in Savannah for sixty years. It is hot every July. This is not news." He said, "I'm making conversation." I said, "Make it about something I don't already know."

I didn't cook hot food all week. In heat like this, the stove is the enemy. I made cold things. Pimento cheese — the real kind, with sharp cheddar and cream cheese and roasted red peppers and a little cayenne, mixed by hand because the food processor makes it too smooth and pimento cheese is supposed to have texture. Served it on Ritz crackers and celery sticks and thought about my grandmother, Mama's mama, who used to make it in a bowl so big it looked like she was feeding an army, which she was, because our family was an army.

I made cucumber salad — cucumbers from the garden, sliced thin with a mandoline that Denise gave me and that I'm slightly afraid of, with red onion and dill and vinegar and sugar. Cold and crisp and exactly what you want when the heat is pressing down on you like a hand. And chicken salad — poached chicken, not boiled (there is a difference and I will explain it if you ask, but not today), with celery and pecans and grapes and a little curry powder that Hattie Pearl would have been suspicious of but that I have decided is genius.

The community center was an oven this week. The air conditioning is struggling and the kids were wilting. I made popsicles — Kool-Aid popsicles, the kind I made for my children when they were small, in paper cups with popsicle sticks. Cherry and grape. The kids treated me like I'd performed a miracle. One little boy said, "Miss Dot, you're the best cook in the world." I said, "Baby, I froze Kool-Aid. But I appreciate the compliment." He didn't care. A popsicle when you're seven and it's ninety-seven degrees is the best thing on earth.

I talked to Patricia this week. She's worried about Brittany — not worried-worried, more like mother-worried, which is a different species. Brittany is applying for pharmacy positions in Orlando and the market is competitive and Patricia wants to fix it and can't, and I said, "Baby, the hardest part of being a mother is watching your children struggle and knowing you can't stir that pot for them." She said, "When did you get so wise?" I said, "I'm sixty. Wisdom is the only perk." She laughed. I didn't tell her that wisdom also comes with knee pain, because she'll find out soon enough.

Now go on and feed somebody.

All that talk about feeding people — the Kool-Aid popsicles, the conversation with Patricia about Brittany — had me thinking about the kind of cooking that actually nourishes somebody, the kind you bring to a friend who’s worried or a neighbor who’s had a long week. Chicken salad is my answer for those moments. It’s the dish I make when I want someone to feel looked after without making a fuss about it. Here’s the version I’ve been making for years.

Dorothy’s Chicken Salad with Grapes and Pecans

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 18 minutes (poaching) | Total Time: 38 minutes + chilling | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1 1/2 cups red or green seedless grapes, halved
• 3 stalks celery, sliced thin
• 3/4 cup pecan halves, roughly chopped and lightly toasted
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 2 tablespoons sour cream
• 1 teaspoon curry powder
• 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• Salt to taste
• Lettuce leaves or sandwich bread, for serving

Instructions

1. Poach the chicken. Place chicken breasts in a single layer in a wide saucepan or skillet. Cover with cold water by one inch. Add the bay leaf, peppercorns, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat — do not boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook 15 to 18 minutes until the chicken is just cooked through and registers 165°F in the thickest part. This is poaching, not boiling, and it matters.
2. Cool and shred. Transfer chicken to a plate or cutting board and let it rest until cool enough to handle, about 15 minutes. Pull into bite-sized pieces with two forks or your hands. Do not chop it fine — texture is the point.
3. Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sour cream, curry powder, apple cider vinegar, black pepper, and a pinch of salt. Taste it. Adjust the curry if you want more. Hattie Pearl would be suspicious; pay her no mind.
4. Combine. Add the shredded chicken, grapes, celery, and pecans to the bowl. Fold everything together until evenly coated. Do not stir so hard you crush the grapes — you want them whole and cold and sweet.
5. Chill. Cover and refrigerate at least one hour before serving. This salad improves as it sits. Make it in the morning and let the flavors come together while you water the garden.
6. Serve. Spoon onto lettuce leaves, tuck into a croissant or good bread, or pile onto crackers alongside a cold glass of sweet tea. Serves six for lunch or four for people who are very hot and very hungry.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 340mg