Southwest Smothered Chicken

The Arizona State BBQ Championship. WestWorld, Scottsdale. October 15, 2016. Sixty-two teams. Four categories. Fourteen hours. The biggest cook of my life.

I arrived at WestWorld Friday at 4 PM to set up. The venue is a massive equestrian and event center in north Scottsdale — dusty, sprawling, with rows of competition rigs stretching across a dirt lot. I've never seen this many smokers in one place. Offset smokers, pellet smokers, ceramic kamados, custom-built rigs on trailers that cost more than my truck. My little offset — the Craigslist special I bought four years ago — looked like a bicycle at a car show. I told myself the smoker doesn't make the cook. The cook makes the cook. I almost believed it.

Jessica came for setup, helped me arrange my station, kissed me, and said "don't overthink it." Then she took Sofia home. I was alone with sixty-one other pitmasters and enough charcoal to fuel a small power plant. I lit my fire at midnight. Brisket on at 12:30. Pork shoulder at 1:30. I slept in the truck for ninety minutes, woke at 4, and started the ribs. Chicken went on at 8 AM. By 10 AM, I was running four cooks simultaneously, checking temperatures, adjusting vents, adding wood, spritzing, and trying very hard not to think about what I was doing because thinking makes you second-guess and second-guessing makes you change things that don't need changing.

Turn-in was at noon. Four boxes: brisket, ribs, shoulder, chicken. I arranged each one with the care of a man defusing a bomb. Six slices of brisket, alternating flat and point. Six ribs, uniform size, sauce glazed. Six pulls of pork, arranged in a bed of sauce. Six chicken thighs, skin crisped, glazed and gleaming. I walked each box to the turn-in table and set them down and stepped back and exhaled for what felt like the first time in twelve hours.

Results came at 3 PM. I stood in the crowd with my arms crossed and my jaw tight and my stomach doing things that stomachs shouldn't do. They announced from the bottom up. I didn't hear my name in the bottom half. Or the middle. Then they hit the top ten. Seventh overall. I got seventh. I got seventh place out of sixty-two teams at the Arizona State BBQ Championship in my first year of competition. Brisket: fourth. Ribs: eighth. Pork: eleventh. Chicken: fifteenth.

I didn't win. I didn't even podium. But I stood in the dirt at WestWorld with my seventh-place ribbon in my hand and I felt something I've only felt one other time — the day I graduated the fire academy and my dad was in the audience. Not pride exactly. Arrival. Like I'd walked through a door I'd been looking at for years and found out the room on the other side was exactly as big as I'd imagined. I'm coming back next year. And I'm going to be better.

Called my dad from the parking lot. "Seventh," I said. He said "out of how many?" I said "sixty-two." He was quiet, then: "Next year, top three." That's Roberto Rivera. Always the next goal. Always the next cook. I drove home with the ribbon on the passenger seat where the trophy from Tucson used to sit, and I thought: this is just the beginning.

I drove home from WestWorld with that seventh-place ribbon on the passenger seat and my dad’s voice in my head saying “next year, top three.” Jessica had Sofia asleep by the time I pulled in, but she’d left the kitchen light on and a note on the counter: make something for yourself tonight. I’d spent fourteen hours cooking for judges — competition-precise, every slice measured, every glaze timed to the second — and what I wanted was something smothered and honest and purely for me. This Southwest Smothered Chicken is what I made. It’s got the bold flavors I grew up with in this part of the country, and it doesn’t ask anything of you except to let it cook and then eat it slowly.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium yellow onion, sliced thin
1 poblano pepper, seeded and sliced
1 red bell pepper, seeded and sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup salsa (medium heat)
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
Sour cream and sliced jalapeños for serving (optional)

Instructions

Season the chicken. In a small bowl, combine chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Pat chicken breasts dry and coat all sides evenly with the spice mixture.
Sear the chicken. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken breasts and sear 3–4 minutes per side until golden brown. Remove to a plate; chicken will not be cooked through yet.
Sauté the vegetables. Reduce heat to medium. Add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil to the same skillet. Add the onion, poblano, and red bell pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until softened and beginning to caramelize. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
Build the sauce. Pour in the salsa and chicken broth. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Bring to a gentle simmer.
Smother and finish. Nestle the seared chicken breasts back into the skillet, pressing them down into the sauce. Spoon some of the vegetable mixture over each breast. Transfer the skillet to a 375°F oven and bake uncovered for 18–20 minutes, until chicken reaches an internal temperature of 165°F.
Add cheese. Remove skillet from oven and sprinkle Monterey Jack cheese evenly over the chicken. Return to oven (or switch to broil) for 3–4 minutes until cheese is melted and bubbling.
Rest and serve. Let the chicken rest 5 minutes in the pan. Top with fresh cilantro and serve with sour cream and jalapeños if desired. Rice, warm tortillas, or roasted corn make ideal sides.

Nutrition (per serving)

Southwest Smothered Chicken — The Meal I Cooked the Night I Got Home from WestWorld