Sharon’s Rice and Green Chile
The first time I ate rice with green chile, I was sitting at Sharon’s table in Baton Rouge. It was 1994 or ’95, I was there visiting Kevin, and Jerry, Kevin’s dad, was out grilling baby back ribs. Whenever Jerry grilled ribs, Sharon made rice and green chile to go with them. That was the rule of the house, and it was a good rule.
I adore Jerry. And Sharon was my mother-in-law, and after my own mother died, she was my mother. Kevin and I aren’t married anymore, but that never changed. Sharon died in 2024, and we still miss her. We also still cook her food and eat it, which is the best way I know to keep somebody at the table. Her recipes never left my kitchen. You might already know Sharon’s chili. This is the other one I can’t do without.
At Sharon’s house, this was a ribs side. At mine, it turned into a Thanksgiving side, and now it’s on the table every year. I’m not sure I could pull it if I tried; somebody would notice.
It’s easy to see why it moved. It’s rich, it’s cheesy, it holds heat on a buffet, and it plays nice with everything else on the plate. Turkey, ham, dressing, whatever’s going on: a spoonful of rice and green chile sits right next to it and makes it better. It’s also nearly hands-off, which matters on a day when every burner and every oven rack is spoken for.
I don’t make a single batch. I make a double, because Zach can eat this by the plateful and I’ve stopped pretending otherwise. A double fills a 9×13, or my two Staub oval bakers, the 9-inch and the 11-inch, together (I use them ALL the time). For Thanksgiving I make the double, and some years I make two doubles. A double feeds six people as a side with leftovers for the next day, and the leftovers are the point. Thanksgiving leftovers are the whole thing, y’all. Anybody who tells you the meal is the main event hasn’t had a cold-turkey-and-reheated-casserole plate at ten o’clock Friday morning.
Sharon made it with Colby. I make it with extra sharp cheddar, because I like the bite against all that creaminess. Use whichever one you grew up with; neither one’s wrong.
The bigger change is the chile. Sharon’s recipe called for one 4-ounce can per batch. I doubled it. I’m a Texan who roasts Hatch chile twenty-five pounds at a time, so a single little can was never going to be enough for me, and once I’d made it with more, I couldn’t go back. These days I use two 8-ounce bags of my own roasted Hatch out of the freezer. If I’m making it for anybody but Zach and me, it’s all mild. If it’s just us, it’s half mild and half hot. If you don’t have a freezer stash, the flat 4-ounce cans from the grocery store work fine. That’s what Sharon used, and nobody at her table ever complained. Just don’t drain them. This is the rare don’t-drain recipe in my kitchen: the juice in the can holds a lot of the flavor, and the rice can take it.
Everything else is hers: cooked rice, condensed cream of celery soup, sour cream, and cheese. Half the cheese gets stirred right in so it’s all through the dish, and the other half goes on top.
Yes, there’s a can of cream of celery in here, and no, I’m not going to apologize for it. This is a cream-of-soup casserole, and it’s proud of it. Plenty of the best holiday food in this country came out of a can opener and a 350-degree oven, made by women who were feeding a crowd and had about four other things going at the same time. The soup is doing a job: it binds everything, keeps the rice from drying out, and gives you that savory backbone without you having to make a béchamel on Thanksgiving morning. You’ve got better things to do. Like carve.
The real reason it earned a permanent spot on our Thanksgiving menu is that you can make it ahead. Assemble it up to two days early, cover it, and stick it in the fridge, then bake it before you serve. Our turkey gets cooked sous vide in duck fat and crisped in the fryer, so the oven belongs to the sides on Thanksgiving. Anything I can build on Tuesday and slide in on Thursday is a gift to my future self.
So that’s Sharon’s rice and green chile: ribs night in Baton Rouge, Thanksgiving in Johns Creek, and a pan that never comes home with anything in it. If you make it this year, make the double. Trust me on that one.
Sharon’s Rice and Green Chile
Ingredients
- 4 cups cooked white rice
- 2 cans (10.5 oz each) condensed cream of celery soup
- 16 oz sour cream
- 16 oz grated cheese divided; extra sharp cheddar, or Colby the way Sharon made it
- 16 oz chopped green chile, preferably Hatch two 8-oz bags of your own roasted, or four 4-oz cans, undrained
Instructions
- Heat the oven to 350°F.
- In a big bowl, stir together the rice, soup, sour cream, chile, and half the cheese.4 cups cooked white rice, 2 cans (10.5 oz each) condensed cream of celery soup, 16 oz sour cream, 16 oz grated cheese, 16 oz chopped green chile, preferably Hatch
- Spread it in a 9×13 pan (or two smaller bakers) and top with the rest of the cheese.16 oz grated cheese
- Bake until the cheese is bubbly and the edges are starting to crisp, about 20 minutes.
- Serve piping hot.
Notes
- Don’t drain canned chile. The juice holds flavor, and the rice soaks it right up.
- Sharon’s original used one 4-oz can per single batch. I double it. Use her amount if you like it milder, or go half mild and half hot if you like it with some kick.
- Leftovers reheat well, which is lucky, because there should be some.
P.S. The smaller dish from this batch went to Kevin’s house for dinner earlier this week. Yes, I made my ex-husband’s mother’s recipe and served it to my ex-husband. If that sounds complicated, you haven’t met my family.
P.P.S. One year I made it all hot for Thanksgiving. We went through a lot more wine that year. Capsaicin does dissolve in alcohol, so I’m calling that a public service.