By January has settled in like an old dog on a porch — heavy, slow, not going anywhere soon. Birmingham in January is not the cruel cold of up north, but it has its own bite, a damp chill that gets into your joints and sets up camp, and my knees have opinions about it. I told Calvin this morning that my knees are writing their own prayer requests, and he said, Loretta, your knees have been writing prayer requests since 2005, and that is true and unhelpful and I told him so.
Marcus went back to school Monday. Senior year, second semester, the final stretch. He left the house at seven-fifteen with a lunch I packed — leftover fried chicken from Sunday, two pieces, wrapped in foil, with a biscuit and an apple that he will not eat because he is seventeen and believes fruit is decorative. I pack it anyway. The apple is my prayer. The chicken is my love. The biscuit is the bridge between the two.
I made beef stew this week, the big-pot kind that simmers all day and makes the house smell like someone is home even when no one is. Chuck roast cut into chunks, browned in the cast iron until the edges are dark and the kitchen smells like a promise. Potatoes, carrots, onion, celery. A splash of Worcestershire. Beef broth from a box because I am a church cook, not a French chef, and the broth from a box does the job just fine. The stew cooked for five hours and by evening it was thick and dark and the potatoes were soft and the meat fell apart when you looked at it, which is exactly what beef stew should do.
Calvin had a deacons' meeting at the church Tuesday night, so I ate alone, which I do not mind. Eating alone is not loneliness — it is a specific kind of quiet that lets me hear the food. The stew talked to me the way food talks when you are still enough to listen: it said warmth. It said patience. It said: you took tough meat and hard vegetables and cold water and you applied heat and time and now look — something tender. Something yielding. Something worth sitting down for. That is what cooking is. That is what faith is. Heat and time and the willingness to wait for the tough things to become tender.
Sunday dinner was the usual: fried chicken, greens, mac and cheese. Destiny came. She is doing well at UAB — her professors like her, her grades are solid, and she talks about child welfare systems with a fire in her voice that reminds me of Calvin when he was young and believed that preaching could fix everything. She has that same fire, pointed at a different injustice, and I am proud of her the way I am proud of all my children — fiercely, specifically, and with a side of mac and cheese.
The stew fed me through the week, but Sunday dinner is a different kind of cooking — it’s the kind where you’re feeding people you love and you want every piece of chicken to say so. This is the baked chicken I made last Sunday, the one Destiny ate two pieces of between telling me about her classes, the one Marcus took to school wrapped in foil like a little gold package of home. It is not complicated. It does not need to be. It just needs to be good, and it is.
Southern Baked Chicken
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 1/2 to 4 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (thighs, drumsticks, and breasts)
- 1/3 cup olive oil or melted butter
- 2 teaspoons garlic powder
- 2 teaspoons onion powder
- 1 1/2 teaspoons smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet or 9x13 baking dish with foil and lightly grease it. Pat chicken pieces dry with paper towels — dry skin is the secret to crispy skin.
- Season generously. In a small bowl, mix garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, thyme, cayenne, salt, pepper, and oregano. Drizzle olive oil or melted butter over the chicken pieces and rub to coat evenly. Sprinkle the seasoning mix over all sides of the chicken, pressing it gently into the skin.
- Arrange the chicken. Place chicken pieces skin-side up in the prepared pan, leaving a little space between each piece so the heat can circulate and the skin can crisp.
- Bake until golden. Bake uncovered for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the skin is deep golden brown and the internal temperature reaches 165°F in the thickest part. Thighs and drumsticks may take the full hour; check breasts a few minutes early so they don’t dry out.
- Rest before serving. Let the chicken rest on the pan for 5 to 10 minutes before serving. This lets the juices settle back into the meat so every bite stays tender and moist.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 35g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 680mg