creamy garlic herb chicken pockets

My boyfriend is originally from a deep Midwestern town a few towns over from my nearly-identical deep Midwestern town, and while we didn’t meet until well into adulthood, there are certain things we have in common to which people raised elsewhere just can’t relate: calling the highway “the expressway”, the Ozzy Water Park jingle, the smell of recirculated car heat and the sound of your dad listening to announcers yell out hockey plays on AM radio while your mom “runs in for two things” for an hour at the Jewel-Osco.

But once in awhile our experiences of our upbringing still diverge wildly. I, for example, grew up in the light of Chicken Crescents, which I was positive were a Signature Suburban Specialty as unanimous as seasoning-packet ground turkey tacos and “meat sauce”. 17 miles away, he had no idea.

Chicken pockets aren’t actually the recipe on the side of the Pillsbury can, but they have that vibe. The original is a buttery beige delight featuring cream cheese, milk, breadcrumbs, and chicken breast, mixed with chives and pimentos into a dip-like filling and then folded into pockets made out of two crescent dough triangles mushed together. It was, of course, conceived in Illinois.

a filling this spirited cannot be contained

a filling this spirited cannot be contained

Allegedly, this is a Pillsbury Bake Off winner from the 70s, and its age shows. So I gave it the tiniest bit of a refresh: using Boursin instead of cream cheese (très French?), a splash of heavy cream instead of milk for luxurious thiccness, toasty oiled panko instead of crushed packaged croutons, seasoned roasted chicken, and lots of herbs. Growing up I was a picky little shit highly averse to “green things” (chives) and “red things” (pimentos) in my perfectly plain food; this time, they were the stars of my show, meaning this time is the first time I’ve ever actually had this dish the way its inventor (who I imagine to be named Barb*) originally intended.

As both of us are from a time and place where avocado was intimidatingly exotic and canned cinnamon rolls were peak celebratory luxury, we are wired to love these by blood. But honestly, just look at these things. Who from anywhere wouldn’t want to get in this pocket?

*my belief in Barb will endure even though I found out her name is Doris

*my belief in Barb will endure even though I found out her name is Doris

Recipe

In case you’re feeling midwestern nostalgia tonight. These savory chicken pockets made with crescent dough are slightly more gourmet, made with whole real ingredients and a poorly kept secret (Boursin cheese!) along with herbs and spices for a version that’s definitely sort of like your mother’s but not.

Effortful time: 15 minutes

Total time: 1 hour

Serves: 4

You need

  • 1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breasts

  • 1/4 tsp. sweet paprika

  • 1 tsp. neutral oil, I used avocado

  • 5 oz pack of Boursin garlic and herb cheese

  • 2 tbsp. heavy cream

  • 2 heaping tbsp. jarred pimentos

  • 1/2 tsp. dried parsley

  • About 10 chives, very thinly sliced

  • 1 pack of crescent roll dough—yes, the one in the tube, I used the one from TJ’s

  • Salt and pepper, to taste

  • 2 tbsp. panko

  • Olive oil or melted butter, for brushing on top

MAKE IT

  1. Cook your chicken. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Oil the chicken breast and season with salt, pepper, and paprika. Place on a wire rack over a baking sheet (I always use quarter sheets for this task). Roast this for 20 minutes or until cooked through, which depends entirely on how thick they are—165°F inside is what you want.

  2. Create your filling base. While you wait, combine the Boursin, cream, chives, pimento, parsley, a pinch of salt, and as much pepper as you want in a bowl large enough to also accommodate the chicken. Set aside.

  3. Finish the filling. When the chicken is done, remove and reset your oven to 350°F. Chop the chicken into small pieces. Stir into the Boursin mixture to combine.

  4. Get ready to pocket. Pop the crescent tube, which has the triangular rolls doubled into four rectangles. Lay out each rectangle on a nonstick baking sheet. Smush the seam together as best you can with your fingers. Spoon the filling into the center of each rectangle. Fold each diagonal corner inward towards the center and kinda stretch it around the filling in a sort of square shape, doing your best to “seal” the edges together.

  5. Top your pockets. Sprinkle panko on top of each pocket and add more cracked pepper. Brush on butter/oil, or do as I did and lightly spritz them with spray olive oil.

  6. Bake your pockets. Bake for 15-20 minutes depending on how well done you like them. I like mine properly golden, so what you see was more like 20 minutes. This is longer than the package says—it’s because the filling is wet, and slows down the cooking time.

  7. Serve your pockets. Serve with a citrusy green salad, but more importantly savor a side of the good old days catching toads in your neighbor’s window wells and drawing all over your freshly rinsed driveway with sidewalk chalk before going inside to wash your filthy feet in the utility room sink and eating chicken pockets on yet another lit late summer evening in the suburbs.