Caitlin Parker
Springdale
Mano’s chicken & rice
1 cup of rice cook separately
After rice is cooked while it is steaming place a piece of bell pepper & cilantro with lid on let it sit to give it flavor.
Chop & salute until soft
1 green bell pepper
1 onion
2 celery stocks
2 packages of Sazon Goya
Then add:
cup of green peas
1 small jar of chopped pimentos with juice
1 teaspoon of capers
Mix with rice and another package of Sazon Goya
Add 1 cup baked/roasted shredded/chopped chicken and Stir to combine
Mano was my grandmother. She was from Panama, and her grandmother name suited her perfectly. “Mano” in Spanish means hand—and her hands were always in motion, always giving, always serving. Her home was the heartbeat of our family, the place where everyone gathered. At the center of it all sat her big, beautiful cherrywood oblong dining table, forever covered in dishes she made with love—especially her chicken and rice.
We lived about five hours away, so we often arrived late at night. But no matter how late it was, without fail, she was always there in the kitchen, perched on her little yellow Costco stool, preparing that chicken and rice so it would be ready the moment we walked through the door. Her hug and the smell of her chicken and rice the moment we walked in the door is a piece of her that will stay tucked in my heart forever. And of course, Mano served it with Lea & Perrins sauce sprinkled over the top—don’t forget that part! It’s essential. Yum.
Mano taught me what it means to serve, to host, to create, and to pass on traditions. She reminded me over and over how important it is to keep family connections alive, to hold onto our stories as we grow older. She believed deeply in storytelling and heritage sharing. After she was gone, she said, it would be up to us to carry the memories—and the recipes—forward.
Some of my core memories are of sitting up with her long past midnight, playing cards, talking about life, love, and loss—even when I was very small. Whenever I eat chicken and rice now, I can close my eyes and find myself right back at her table. I can feel everyone there—alive, laughing, sharing, creating—and it fills me with peace.
These are the recipes for love and life that she placed in my hands, and they will live in my heart forever.