Chicken Ropa Vieja and Mangu

Wednesday night called for a cozy dinner, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

It’s been raining and unusually cold here in the Dallas–Fort Worth area for what feels like three months straight, and I was craving something warm, saucy, and comforting. The kind of meal that feels just right on a cold, rainy evening.

One of my favorite Cuban dishes is Ropa Vieja (pronounced ROPE-ah vee-YEH-ha), which literally translates to “old clothes”—a nod to the way the shredded meat resembles strips of fabric. Traditionally, it’s made with flank steak that’s cooked until fork-tender and then shredded. This time, though, I opted for a lighter protein and made it with chicken breasts.

The chicken was tender and flavorful, soaking up all that tomato sauce, garlic, cumin, peppers, and onion. It was exactly the kind of comfort food I was craving.

I served it with Mangú, a Dominican dish made from mashed green plantains. I’ve always loved plantains, but I tend to think of them in their more familiar Cuban forms—fried, golden, and crisp around the edges. Mangú is something completely different. The plantains are boiled and mashed until soft and creamy, making a surprisingly comforting side dish.

I was also interested to learn more about green plantains and their resistant starch and fiber. Because they’re less ripe than sweet plantains, they contain more resistant starch, which is digested differently than regular starch. They’re still a carbohydrate, of course, but I liked the idea of having another way to enjoy plantains that didn’t involve frying them.

Since I wanted something a little lighter to go alongside the ropa vieja, I called my Dominican friend, Gaudy, and asked her how she makes her Mangú.

I’m so glad I did.

Gaudy told me that the traditional way is to sauté an onion and mix it into the mashed plantains. She also gave me a very important piece of information: authentic Mangú doesn’t usually include garlic.

Naturally, I added a little garlic anyway.

Since the ropa vieja already had plenty of onions, I skipped the sautéed onion in the Mangú and kept mine simple with butter, salt, and just a pinch of garlic powder.

The combination was so good.

There’s something I love about recipes that cross cultures like this. A Cuban dish on one side of the plate, a Dominican dish on the other, and a little bit of my own interpretation in between. It’s one of the reasons I love cooking. Recipes don’t always stay exactly where they started. They travel, they get shared, and sometimes they become something slightly different in someone else’s kitchen.

And this one is definitely staying in mine.

Chicken Ropa Vieja

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and shredded
1 small yellow onion, sliced
1 small red bell pepper, sliced
1 small green bell pepper, sliced
1 small yellow bell pepper, sliced (optional)
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
2 (8-ounce) cans tomato sauce
1/4 cup dry white wine
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions

Cook the chicken until tender, then shred it with two forks.

While the chicken cooks, slice the onions and peppers into thin strips and mince the garlic.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet or sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add the onions, peppers, and garlic and cook until softened, stirring occasionally.

Add the shredded chicken and stir to combine. Add the bay leaf, tomato sauce, white wine, cumin, lime juice, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Stir well.

The mixture should be nice and saucy. If it seems too thick, add a splash of chicken broth or water. Reduce the heat to medium-low and let it simmer for about 20 minutes, giving the flavors time to come together.

Mangú

Ingredients

3 large green plantains
5 tablespoons butter
About 1/3 cup reserved cooking water, or more as needed
Pinch of garlic powder
Salt, to taste

Directions

I should mention that I didn’t follow Gaudy’s method exactly. She recommended sautéing an onion and mixing it into the mashed plantains, which is the traditional approach. Since the chicken already had plenty of onions, I skipped that step.

She also told me authentic Mangú doesn’t usually include garlic.

But I couldn’t resist adding just a pinch of garlic powder.

Peel the plantains and cut them into large chunks. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the plantains until fork-tender.

Drain the plantains, reserving about 1/3 cup of the cooking water. Transfer the plantains to a bowl and mash them with a potato masher, adding the butter a little at a time. If the mixture feels too thick, add a little of the reserved cooking water until you reach the consistency you like. Season with garlic powder and additional salt to taste.

Serve the Mangú alongside the Chicken Ropa Vieja and, if you’d like, sprinkle a little shredded cheese over the top.

This was exactly the kind of dinner I needed that night. Warm, comforting, a little bit Cuban, a little bit Dominican, and very much at home in my kitchen.

Sometimes the best meals are the ones that show up when you need them most.