Last Saturday at 8:15 a.m. at the Franklin Farmers Market, I paid $5 for a bunch of asparagus so fresh it squeaked when Nora rubbed two spears together. She did that maybe eleven times on the way back to the car. By Tuesday night it was in a skillet with lemon, chicken and orzo, and Jack, who had just come in from practice with his cleats in his hand, ate every green piece on his plate.
Baseball is back. Jack has practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 5:30 to 7:00, and Ryan takes him, since he's home from the plant by three. That leaves Nora and me in the kitchen, and supper needs to be on the table about fifteen minutes after the truck pulls back into the driveway. This is the dinner I make on those nights: bright, quick and done in one pan.
Nora is in charge of zesting. At twelve she's the only person in this house patient enough to zest two whole lemons without taking any of the white part with it.
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 teaspoon dried oregano
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 1 small onion, finely diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 1/2 cups orzo
- 3 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, hot
- 2 lemons
- 1 bunch asparagus (about 1 pound), woody ends snapped off, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill or parsley
How I make it
- Season the chicken with the salt, pepper and oregano. Heat the oil in a 12-inch skillet with tall sides over medium-high. Add the chicken in one layer and brown it 5 to 6 minutes, turning once. It doesn't need to be cooked through yet. Move it to a plate.
- Turn the heat to medium. Add the butter and onion and cook 3 minutes, then the garlic for 30 seconds. Add the orzo and stir 2 minutes, until it smells toasty and a few pieces turn golden.
- Zest both lemons into the pan. Pour in the hot broth, scrape up the browned bits and return the chicken with its juices. Simmer uncovered 10 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes so the orzo doesn't stick.
- Stir in the asparagus and cook 4 to 5 minutes more. It's done when the orzo is tender with a little bite, most of the liquid is absorbed but it still looks creamy, the asparagus is bright green and the chicken reads 175°F on my instant-read thermometer.
- Take the pan off the heat. Stir in the juice of 1 1/2 lemons, the Parmesan and the dill. Taste, then add more lemon or salt if it needs it.
Why does the zest go in early and the juice go in last? The flavor in zest comes from oils in the peel, and those oils hold up through a simmer and perfume the whole pan. Fresh lemon juice is different. Its bright, sharp taste fades the longer it cooks, so if you add it with the broth, by the end the dish just tastes vaguely sour. Squeezed in off the heat, it tastes like lemon.
The first time I made this, I put the asparagus in with the orzo at the beginning. Fifteen minutes later it was the color of an army jacket and soft enough to mash with a spoon. Jack picked out every piece and lined them up on the edge of his plate like evidence. Now it goes in for the last four or five minutes and stays green, and Jack eats it and announces it like other kids announce a home run.
Swaps and make-ahead: when asparagus isn't in season, stir in a cup of frozen peas for the last 2 minutes, or a few big handfuls of baby spinach off the heat. Chicken breast works too, but pull it at 165°F. Leftovers make a good lunch, but the orzo keeps soaking up liquid in the fridge, so add a splash of broth or water before you reheat it.
The whole pan costs about $18, and more than a quarter of that is the asparagus. I don't mind. Until the end of May it's the best $5 I spend all week.
Tonight, though, is leftovers and a list. Tomorrow is my mom's 65th birthday, and fourteen people are coming to our backyard for a catfish fry. Marcus is lending us his outdoor burner, eight pounds of catfish are in the fridge, and I've written the hushpuppy batter on an index card twice in case I lose the first one.
