Chicken Puttanesca

About a dozen years ago I had the wonderful opportunity to go to Italy with my family. We spent two incredible weeks there, one with my parents and brothers’ families at a rental in Umbria, the other, just my wife, kids, and I, driving throughout the country.

Of course, the food was unbelievable. Thin crisp pizzas along the Amalfi coast, near its birthplace in Naples. Pasta everywhere we went. Grilled meats in Umbria. I learned the best way to make bruschetta is to pile fresh tomatoes on bread that was garlic-brushed and grilled. Granita in the hot afternoon to cool us down and gelato at least once every day (and twice on a good day). Salty, fatty, crisp-skinned porchetta piled high on a fresh roll from a truck at the weekly marketplace.

Another food memory that sticks with me from the trip is a dish we did not eat. As we drove south to north from big city to rolling countryside and hilltop villages, we listened to books on tape to keep the kids, about 6 and 8 at the time, from fighting. The thirteen books that make up Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events was a major part of the lineup.

In the first book, the Baudelaire orphans were forced to make dinner for a gathering of their evil uncle, Count Olaf’s friends. Given virtually no money with which to procure provisions, they settled on Pasta Puttanesca, because it was cheap and they thought they could pull it off.

“All we need to do is sauté olives, capers, anchovies, garlic, chopped parsley, and tomatoes together in a pot, and prepare spaghetti to go with it,” one of the characters explained. It couldn’t be easier. For some reason, the dish in this story stuck with me.

I recently was deciding what I should cook for dinner. I wasn’t interested in pasta that evening, but “Why not make Chicken Puttanesca?” I thought. With already cooked chicken in the refrigerator and all of the other ingredients readily accessible in the pantry, I was sure it would be good, no trip to the supermarket required. A half hour later, dinner was on the table and we were reminiscing about the food we ate and the sites we saw on our wonderful trip to Italy.

Chicken Puttanesca

This recipe is about as easy as it gets; sauté the ingredients in a little olive oil and you’re done. I used already cooked chicken, and it’s a perfect way to use the leftovers from a rotisserie chicken you purchased at the supermarket the day before. If you don’t have cooked chicken, sauté bite-size pieces of boneless, skinless chicken breast or thigh in a tablespoon of olive oil until cooked through. Either way, served with some crusty bread and a vegetable, it will make for a hearty and tasty meal.

For the anchovy averse, you won’t taste them in this dish, and they add a depth to the dish that would be absent if you skip them. I strongly recommend including them.

Serves 3, about a half hour

2 Tbsp. olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 anchovies, drained and finely minced

1 28 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes, drained, liquid reserved

¼ to ½ cup Kalamata olives, pitted and sliced

2 Tbsp. capers, drained

½ tsp. fresh ground black pepper

¼ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

2 Tbsp. parsley, chopped, plus more for garnish

2 cups cooked chicken, torn or cut into bite-size pieces

Fresh grated Parmesan cheese for garnish, optional

1. Heat olive oil over medium heat in a 10-inch skillet. Add garlic and stir for about a minute until cooked through, but not starting to brown. Add anchovies, stir, and cook for an additional minute.
2. Add tomatoes, crushing them with the back of a spoon once in the skillet. Stir and cook until heated through and slightly thick, about 5 to 7 minutes.
3. Add olives, capers, black pepper, and crushed red pepper flakes, and cook for an additional few minutes. Add parsley and chicken and cook until chicken is warmed through.
4. If sauce seems too thick, add reserved liquid from tomatoes a couple tablespoons full at a time, to reach desired consistency. Serve hot with parsley and grated Parmesan on top, if desired.

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