AROUND THIS TIME OF YEAR, SUMPTUOUS BEANS, BRAISED VEGETABLES, LAYERED DISHES, AND PRESERVES FROM THE FARM’S ABUNDANCE SLOWLY RISE IN MY MEAL ROTATION. My body yearns for something more to weather summer’s transition and soothe the ongoing heartache caused by society’s volatility towards Black people. Although unwinding feels at odds with our collective fight towards liberation, allowing myself to truly rest has become important to me. More often than not, I reach for autumnal foods that hold me, deeply restore me, and invite me to let my guard down.
Bmore chicken and slippery dumplings is a dish that guides me through these literal and figurative seasonal shifts—and I wouldn’t be the first. For many Baltimoreans with Southern roots, it’s a dish that has a legacy of being able to stretch chicken across multiple meals during hard times. In other words, it’s a dish that fortifies you with whatever resources you have on hand. Although decadent versions of the dish exist, chicken and slippery dumplings at its core is a working-class dish. A meal that, arguably, has been preserved largely thanks to Black women cooks.

The ingredients for this recipe stay simple, but the process requires a little bit of work before you can enjoy its warm embrace. In some variations, the chicken is simply boiled, which I think is fine, but not as flavorful. Growing up, my mom would either braise the chicken, use leftover chicken, or prepare the meat entirely separate from the dumplings (e.g. fried chicken) and have them as a side dish. No matter the method, my favorite step has always been stretching out the dough with my favorite rolling pin.
Unlike drop dumplings, which have a biscuit foundation, this version comes together through a method closer to pie dough. Some even describe chicken and slippery dumplings as a deconstructed chicken pot pie. I typically roll out the dough to a quarter-inch thickness, then cut it into diamond shapes. After crafting the dumplings, I love waiting for the cauldron of chicken broth to boil so I can carefully drop them in. After a few minutes, they rise to the surface plump, tender, and slightly bigger now than when they first went in.
The recipe’s final step involves adding frozen peas and carrots. As I kid, that moment signaled we’d be eating soon. To this day, I feel a wave of excitement when I spoon my favorite pieces of chicken, dumplings, broth, and veggies into my bowl. Oftentimes, that means burning my tongue with the first taste, because I’m impatient. This dish brings up the feelings of spotting someone I love, rushing in for a hug, and remembering how much I cherish the warmth of being held by someone familiar. I carry deep gratitude to my mom and those before her for passing dishes like this down to me. As autumn welcomes darker times ahead, I return to meals like this one for renewal, so that I can rise stronger.
Serves 4
For the chicken:
For the dumplings and broth:
Tools:
Prepare the Chicken
Make the Dumplings
Assemble the Soup
Cold water tip: To ensure the water is cold enough for the dough, either place a cup in the freezer at the beginning of cooking or add ice cubes to a cup of water and measure from that.
