Slow-Cooker Chicken and Stuffing

Thanksgiving. Year four. The table: turkey, dressing, mac and cheese, greens, candied yams, cranberry sauce, rolls, deviled eggs. My ribs. My banana pudding. The banana pudding sat on the dessert table next to Mama's sweet potato pie and pecan pie and German chocolate cake, and people served themselves and came back for seconds, and three people — Keisha, Tanya, and Marc — said it was the best banana pudding they had ever had. I looked at Mama across the table. She was watching me. She nodded. One nod. The nod of a teacher who has watched her student arrive. The family was together. Dad looked thin but present. He ate turkey and yams and my ribs (Mama allowed three this year — a 50% increase, which I attribute to either improved health management or improved ribs). Marc was there, with a girl named Jasmine (not the future Jasmine of Aiden's life — just a coincidence of names and Marc's romantic calendar). Keisha brought wine. Darius held DJ, who is fourteen months and walking and fighting Zaria for control of the kids' table. Aiden sat at the big table again. He said grace. Mama asked him to, and he stood up in his booster seat and said, "Thank you, God, for the food and the family and for Dada's ribs and Grandma's mac and cheese and for Zee because she is funny." The table laughed. Mama wiped her eyes. Dad said, "Amen." I looked at my son, four years old, standing at a table that has held this family for thirty years, giving thanks with the sincerity that only children possess, and I thought: whatever happens with the marriage, whatever happens with the money, whatever happens next — this moment is real. This family is real. This food is real. And real things hold.

Mama’s table taught me that the food is never really about the food — it’s about what happens around it, the nod across the table, the four-year-old standing in his booster seat giving thanks, the way real things hold. On the nights in between the big holidays, when I want to carry that same warmth home without the three-day cook, this slow-cooker chicken and stuffing does it for me. It’s got the savory, tender pull of everything a holiday spread promises, and all I have to do is set it and let it do what good food does — fill the house and bring people together.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6 hours | Total Time: 6 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 can (10.5 oz) condensed cream of chicken soup
1 can (10.5 oz) condensed cream of mushroom soup
1/2 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup sour cream
1 box (6 oz) stuffing mix (such as Stove Top)
1/2 cup butter, melted
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Season the chicken. Season chicken breasts on both sides with garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Place them in an even layer in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker.
Mix the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together cream of chicken soup, cream of mushroom soup, chicken broth, and sour cream until smooth. Pour the mixture evenly over the chicken.
Prepare the stuffing layer. In a separate bowl, combine stuffing mix, melted butter, and water, stirring until the stuffing is just moistened. Spoon the stuffing mixture over the top of the sauce layer, spreading gently to cover.
Slow cook. Cover and cook on LOW for 5 to 6 hours, or on HIGH for 3 to 3 1/2 hours, until the chicken is cooked through and tender enough to shred easily with a fork.
Shred and combine. Use two forks to gently shred the chicken directly in the slow cooker, folding it up into the sauce. Let it rest uncovered for 5 minutes so everything settles together.
Serve. Spoon onto plates or into bowls, topping each serving with a scoop of stuffing. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired and serve hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Chicken and Stuffing — The Table That Has Always Held Us