Twice Baked Chicken Fajita Sweet Potatoes

Snow. The first real snow — not the teasing flurries of late October, but actual snow, two inches on the ground when I woke up Wednesday morning and more coming. The farmhouse looked like a postcard, which Helen pointed out and I pretended to find cliché and secretly found beautiful. I've seen first snow sixty-three times and it still does something to me. The world goes white and quiet and everything ugly gets covered, and for a few hours the landscape looks like it did before any of us were here to ruin it.

Frost — the dog, not the weather — went completely insane. He ran in circles in the yard, plunged his face into the snow, emerged looking like a powdered donut, and repeated the process for twenty minutes. He's twelve years old. In the snow he's two. I understand the feeling. There's something about fresh snow that makes you forget what your knees know.

I made chili. Not Vermont chili — there's no such thing as Vermont chili, Vermont doesn't have a chili tradition, Vermont barely has a spice rack. This is a recipe I picked up in the Army, if you can call something I saw once in a mess hall in Georgia and recreated from memory forty-four years later "picking it up." Ground beef, onions, garlic, kidney beans, tomatoes — my canned ones from August — chili powder, cumin, a bit of cayenne. You brown the beef, add everything else, and let it simmer for two hours. The longer it simmers, the better it gets. Chili respects patience. Most things do.

I served it with cornbread, which I do know how to make because cornbread is just corn, flour, egg, buttermilk, and a hot cast-iron skillet, and the hot skillet is the key — you preheat it with butter until the butter is sizzling, pour in the batter, and the bottom crust forms immediately, golden and crisp. If your cornbread doesn't have a crispy bottom, your skillet wasn't hot enough, and I say that with the authority of a man who served cornbread with a limp bottom exactly once and has carried the shame ever since.

Helen ate the chili and said, "This isn't bad." From Helen, "isn't bad" is Michelin-star territory. She's New England. Effusive praise makes her uncomfortable. I've learned to translate. "Isn't bad" means "make it again." "It's fine" means "adequate." "I wouldn't change anything" means "this is perfect." We've been married thirty-six years. I speak fluent Helen.

The snow kept falling. The chili was hot. The cornbread was golden. First snow of the season. We're ready.

The chili is the centerpiece of every first-snow day I’ve had on this farm — but if you don’t have six hours, a pot that’s been seasoned since Reagan, and forty-four years of imprecise Army-mess-hall memory to draw on, these twice baked chicken fajita sweet potatoes are the next best thing: Southwestern spice, real heat, something golden coming out of a hot oven while the world outside goes white and quiet. Helen ate two halves and said they were “not bad at all,” which, if you’ve been following along, you already know is practically a standing ovation.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 25 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 medium sweet potatoes, scrubbed
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 2 medium)
1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more for rubbing potatoes
1 red bell pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese
1/4 cup sour cream, for serving
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, roughly chopped, for garnish
1 lime, cut into wedges, for serving

Instructions

Bake the potatoes. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Rub the sweet potatoes lightly with olive oil and place on a foil-lined baking sheet. Bake for 45–55 minutes, until completely tender when pierced with a fork. Remove and let cool for 10 minutes. Leave the oven on.
Cook the chicken. While the potatoes bake, season the chicken breasts on both sides with half the chili powder, half the cumin, the smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Cook chicken 5–6 minutes per side until cooked through (internal temperature 165°F). Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes, then shred or dice into bite-sized pieces.
Sauté the fajita vegetables. In the same skillet over medium heat, add the sliced bell peppers and onion. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 7–9 minutes until softened and lightly caramelized. Add the garlic and remaining chili powder and cumin; cook 1 minute more. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Scoop and mix the filling. Slice each sweet potato in half lengthwise. Carefully scoop out most of the flesh into a large bowl, leaving a 1/4-inch shell intact. Add the sautéed vegetables and shredded chicken to the bowl; stir together until well combined. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Stuff and top. Spoon the filling back into the sweet potato shells, mounding generously. Sprinkle each half with shredded cheese. Arrange on the baking sheet and return to the oven for 10–12 minutes, until the cheese is melted and the filling is heated through.
Serve. Transfer to plates and top each with a small dollop of sour cream, a sprinkle of fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Twice Baked Chicken Fajita Sweet Potatoes — When the Snow Falls and the Spice Cabinet Calls