Skinny Mexican Chicken Skillet

One week until Thanksgiving. Mama has started her planning, which for Lorraine means making lists, checking those lists, arguing with the lists, and then doing everything from memory anyway because she's been making the same Thanksgiving dinner for thirty years and the list is a formality. The list is theater. The real recipe is in Lorraine Mitchell's hands.

The menu is non-negotiable: turkey (brined, Mama's way), cornbread dressing (MY job this year — she's trusting me with it, which is either a promotion or a test), mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce (canned, and don't you dare judge us — the can-shaped cranberry cylinder is TRADITION), macaroni and cheese, sweet potato casserole with marshmallows on top, rolls, gravy, and three pies — pumpkin, sweet potato, and pecan. For eight people. Mama cooks like she's feeding a battalion because she was raised by Earline, who was raised on an Alabama farm, and on a farm, there is no such thing as enough food. There is only more food.

Chloe wants to help cook. I told her she could mash the sweet potatoes, which is a four-year-old-safe task that involves a potato masher and rage. She's already practicing on bananas. The bananas are very mashed. They are, in fact, destroyed. She is ready.

Jayden has discovered the word "mine." Everything is "MINE." The remote: mine. The spoon: mine. Chloe's doll: MINE (this causes a war every time). My coffee cup: mine (he doesn't even drink coffee, but he'll fight for the cup). He is twenty months old and he is a tiny capitalist. Property is his love language.

I got an email from Dr. Whitfield. She wants me to consider being a peer tutor next semester — helping first-semester students with anatomy, using my notes, sharing study strategies. She said, "Your academic performance and your personal experience make you an ideal mentor." MENTOR. Five months ago I was asking what a bicuspid was. Now I'm being asked to mentor. The distance between those two moments is not measured in months. It's measured in every 3 AM flashcard session, every parking lot cry, every bowl of ramen I ate at 11 PM because I was too tired to cook and too wired to sleep. That distance is mine. MINE. (See, Jayden? Mama has the word too.)

I made a chicken tortilla soup this week. It's my cold-weather go-to when I need something fast and warm and cheap: shredded chicken, canned black beans, canned corn, canned tomatoes with green chiles, chicken broth, cumin, garlic powder, lime juice. Fifteen minutes. Top with tortilla strips (I cut up and bake old flour tortillas) and cheese. Chloe ate hers with an unreasonable amount of cheese. Jayden dunked his hand in and ate fistfuls of broth-soaked tortilla. We're not fancy people. We're fed people. That's better.

That soup I mentioned—the one I threw together in fifteen minutes while running on fumes and pride—got me thinking about all the other fast, warm, Mexican-spiced meals that have kept us going this semester. So this week I’m sharing the skillet version: same spirit as that soup, but cooked in one pan on a busy night when even opening cans feels like a lot. Here’s how it comes together.

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles, undrained
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 can (15 oz) whole kernel corn, drained
1/4 cup chicken broth
Juice of 1 lime
1/2 cup shredded Mexican blend cheese
2 flour tortillas, cut into strips and baked until crisp (optional topping)
Fresh cilantro, for topping (optional)

Instructions

Season the chicken. Toss chicken pieces with cumin, garlic powder, chili powder, smoked paprika, and salt until evenly coated.
Cook the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add seasoned chicken and cook 5–6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until cooked through and lightly browned.
Add the pantry staples. Pour in the diced tomatoes with green chiles, black beans, corn, and chicken broth. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle simmer.
Simmer and finish. Cook 4–5 minutes until the liquid reduces slightly and everything is heated through. Squeeze in lime juice and stir.
Top and serve. Divide into bowls. Top with shredded cheese, baked tortilla strips, and cilantro if using. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Skinny Mexican Chicken Skillet — Fifteen Minutes, Fed and Warm