By Jason transferred. Not to Fairbanks — to the main fire station in Anchorage, a promotion that keeps him in the city but changes his schedule from ambulance runs to fire-rescue-EMS, which means longer shifts, more overnight stays, and the particular danger that comes with running into burning buildings instead of away from them. I supported the decision because it's his career and his choice. I'm also quietly terrified, because loving someone who runs toward fire is a specific kind of fear that Lourdes would understand — the love-as-fear, the pride-as-terror, the Santos maternal inheritance that I apparently carry even without children.
His first overnight shift was Tuesday. I came home from the ER to an empty apartment, which shouldn't have felt different — I've lived alone for years, I'm the queen of eating alone standing up — but the absence of the possibility of Jason was different from the actual alone. When he might come over, the alone is temporary. When he's at the fire station for twenty-four hours, the alone is fixed, and fixed alone has a different texture than temporary alone.
I made adobo. Obviously. The comfort recipe, the default, the thing my hands do when my brain is elsewhere. The vinegar bubbled. The garlic browned. The chicken braised. I ate it at the table, seated, alone, and the alone was manageable because the adobo was there and the adobo has never let me down and the adobo will outlive every relationship because the adobo is the relationship — between me and Lourdes, between me and Reynaldo, between me and the kitchen, the oldest and most reliable love of my life.
Jason came home Wednesday morning, smelling like smoke and exhaustion. He ate leftover adobo standing at my counter, which is how I know we're compatible — we both eat standing up, we both understand that some meals are fuel rather than events, and we both know that Lourdes would disapprove. He kissed me with garlic breath. I didn't mind. Garlic breath is the Santos family cologne.
Lourdes called. "Is Jason safe?" she asked. "He fights fires now." I said, "He's fine." She said, "Joseph is on a boat and Jason is in a fire. All my children's men want to die." I said, "Jason is not 'my man.'" She said, "He eats your adobo. He's your man." By Lourdes's metrics, she's right. He eats my adobo. He's mine.
Adobo is my emergency recipe, the one my hands make without consulting my brain — but when Jason’s shift schedule changed and I knew the overnight waits were going to become a regular thing, I needed something I could set before I left for the ER and come home to without thinking. The Slow-Cooker Caribbean Moo Shu Chicken scratched the same itch: tangy, savory, deeply fragrant, the kind of dish that fills an apartment with smell so the empty doesn’t echo quite so loud. It isn’t adobo, but it speaks the same language — vinegar, warmth, something that rewards patience — and patience is exactly what I’m practicing now.
Slow-Cooker Caribbean Moo Shu Chicken
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 6 hours | Total Time: 6 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
- 1/2 cup pineapple juice
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
- 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
- 2 cups shredded coleslaw mix
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 4 flour tortillas or lettuce wraps, for serving
- Sliced green onions and sesame seeds, for garnish
Instructions
- Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the pineapple juice, soy sauce, rice vinegar, brown sugar, hoisin sauce, garlic, ginger, allspice, and red pepper flakes until the sugar dissolves.
- Load the slow cooker. Place the chicken thighs in the bottom of the slow cooker in a single layer. Pour the sauce evenly over the top.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 5 to 6 hours, or on HIGH for 3 to 4 hours, until the chicken is cooked through and tender enough to shred easily.
- Shred the chicken. Remove the chicken from the slow cooker and shred with two forks. Return the shredded chicken to the slow cooker and stir to coat in the sauce. Let it sit on WARM for 10 minutes to absorb the juices.
- Prep the slaw. While the chicken rests, toss the coleslaw mix and shredded carrots together in a bowl. You can dress with a small splash of the sauce from the slow cooker if you like.
- Assemble and serve. Spoon the chicken onto warm flour tortillas or into lettuce cups. Top with the slaw, green onions, and a scatter of sesame seeds. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 720mg