Let’s Chat Baked Chicken Empanadas (or That Time I Burned the Edges)

I feel like I should open with a confession: the first time I tried making empanadas, I forgot the egg wash and the edges looked like the Sahara—dry, crumbly, kinda tragic. But my sister still ate three, so who’s counting? Empanadas just have this magic—you bite through a golden crust, there’s that fragrant chicken insides, and suddenly it’s like weeknight dinner isn’t boring again. Somewhere between comfort food and show-off dish, right? I sometimes make a double batch and just freeze half for days when I absolutely cannot handle another sad sandwich. Anyway, you wanna make these? Let me show you how I do it (crusty edges and all!).

Why You’ll Love This—According to My Family, Anyway

Maybe it’s the flaky pastry, maybe the tender chicken—my crew will actually wander into the kitchen before the timer goes off, mainly hounding me for scraps. I make this when I need everyone to settle down and eat without twenty-seven requests for ketchup. These empanadas are also ace for picky eaters: the filling is secretly veggie-packed, even if my youngest still claims to “taste something green.” (He can’t. I chop it that fine.) And if you love leftovers—honestly, I think these taste better the next day, cold from the fridge. Can’t explain why. Just does.

Stuff You’ll Need (But I’m Not Fussy)

2 cups cooked, shredded chicken (sometimes I use rotisserie if it’s a Tuesday—but any cooked chicken will do)
1 small onion, chopped fine (red, white, yellow—whatever’s lurking in your crisper)
1/2 green bell pepper, diced (my grandmother swore by red bell pepper, but I think the green one’s earthier)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup frozen peas (optional—but don’t tell my kids they’re in there!)
1 teaspoon smoked paprika (I accidentally used Hungarian sweet paprika once. Not the same, but still nice.)
1/2 teaspoon cumin
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup tomato sauce (or a big spoonful of salsa in a pinch—works wonders, actually)
1-2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley (dried works if that’s all you’ve got—no judgment)
1 pack empanada dough discs, thawed (I like Goya, but any brand, even homemade or pie dough, will fly)
1 egg, beaten (for that all-important shiny lid)

How I Actually Make Baked Chicken Empanadas (Frantic Kids & All)

Preheat your oven to 400F (205C). While it’s heating up, tell yourself you’ll clean as you go—spoiler, I never do.
Sauté onion, pepper, and garlic in a big skillet with a splash of oil, medium heat. Stir till soft, about 5 minutes. Don’t sweat if bits stick; just scrape it up (“brown means flavor,” that’s what I say).
Add the shredded chicken, peas, paprika, cumin, salt, and pepper. Stir around till it smells amazing. Then toss in your tomato sauce and parsley. Let it burble gently for 3–4 minutes, until thick-ish. Confession: this is where I usually sneak a spoonful.
Let the filling cool. Otherwise you risk burned fingers and gooey dough. I always think it’ll cool in five minutes… it doesn’t. Ten, maybe even fifteen if you can wait.
Lay out your empanada discs on a floured countertop or, honestly, a clean tea towel works too. Spoon a small mound (like two tablespoons) of filling into the center of each round. Do I always portion evenly? No. Does it matter? Not really.
Fold the discs over to make half-moons, then press the edges together. Seal with a fork, or—if you’re feeling extra—try crimping by hand. Don’t fuss if they look lumpy. Mine do!
Transfer to a lined baking sheet. I use parchment because I’m lazy about scrubbing trays, but foil works at a pinch.
Brush each empanada with egg wash. Seriously, don’t skip this. Unless you want the Sahara look I managed last time. Into the oven they go.
Bake 22–25 minutes, or until golden brown and audibly crisp when you tap one. Try not to open the oven a dozen times, though honestly, who’s judging?

Some Notes I Picked Up (Usually the Hard Way)

Don’t overfill, or say hello to side-splitting drama. I’m still picking baked-on filling off my baking tray from last month.
If you’re low on chicken, bulk it up with extra veg or even chopped hard-cooked egg. Accidentally made this swap once, and it worked!
I find that homemade dough tastes best, but honestly, those store-bought discs are a sanity saver midweek.

Off-Menu: Variations I’ve Tried (and the One I Wouldn’t Repeat)

Cheesy Twist: Shred a little Monterey Jack or cheddar into the filling before sealing. Melty goodness.
Spicy Kick: Swap in chipotle powder for smoked paprika or tuck a thin slice of jalapeño in each. My husband says “yes,” my youngest says “please no.”
Vegetarian Version: Lentils or mushrooms instead of chicken. Not bad, actually! More earthy, less Sunday-dinner vibe.
One miss: I tried swapping in mashed sweet potato for the tomato sauce & part of the chicken. It was oddly sweet—maybe too far off base for me, but you do you.

Equipment You Need—Or My Cheap Workarounds

Baking tray—though in a pinch, I once used the bottom of a Dutch oven (don’t recommend, but it worked… barely!)
Pastry brush for the egg wash—I’ve used a wad of paper towel before. Not as precise, but hey, it gets the job done.
Rolling pin if you need to stretch the dough. Or, truth? A wine bottle. Works great! (Maybe wipe it off first.)

How I Store Empanadas (But They Don’t Last, Honestly)

You can wrap these up and stash ’em in the fridge for up to three days, in a sealed container or just on a plate with plastic wrap if you’re not feeling fancy. But in my house, they’re all gone by breakfast the next day, so it’s mostly theoretical storage advice. If, by some miracle, you’re blessed with leftovers, reheat in the oven (350F, 8–10 minutes) to crispen them up—microwave works, but you’ll lose the crunch. Serious Eats has a fun guide to freezing these too, honestly worth a peek.

If You’re Wondering How I Serve These…

Okay, tradition says empanadas are a snack or party food, but I serve them as dinner all the time. Salad on the side, maybe quick pickled onions if I’m showing off (or just a fistful of cilantro for the color). My kids dunk them in ranch dressing, which, yes, purists would probably clutch their pearls about, but it’s dinner not a history lesson. If it’s the weekend, I’m partial to a big glass of lemonade on ice.

Lessons I Learnt (Usually the Hard Way): Pro Tips

I once tried to bake these from rock-hard frozen; they looked fine but the insides were still cold. Actually, I find it works better if you thaw them on the counter for an hour, then bake.
Don’t rush the sealing step—I’ve done the shove ’em shut and hope thing, but they leak! Take your time, press or crimp.
Don’t forget the egg wash. Seriously. Dry empanadas are a letdown.

Real Questions People Have Actually Asked Me

Can I freeze these before baking? Totally! Lay them out on a tray till solid, then bag them up. Bake right from frozen, but add 5 minutes (sometimes more). They may be a little paler than fresh, though. Here’s a deeper dive from My Colombian Recipes, worth a read.
What’s the best dipping sauce? I go rogue and use a garlicky yogurt sauce, or sometimes just herby chimichurri. Honestly, they’re fine plain. Salsa on hand? Give it a go!
Can I make the filling ahead? Oh yes. I have made it 2 days early—it actually tastes better after a night in the fridge (I swear fillings develop more flavor). But reheat gently before assembling so you’re not working with cold glop.
My dough is kinda sticky. What now? Don’t panic, just flour your hands and the counter. Or, worst case, stick it in the fridge for 15 min. That usually gets it back in line.
Is the store-bought dough really okay? In my book? Yes! Homemade is better, but life’s too short sometimes.

There you have it—a properly imperfect, well-loved recipe for chicken empanadas. Try ‘em out, and let me know if you invent a new filling combo (just steer clear of the sweet potato). And, if you’re curious about more dough tricks, King Arthur Baking actually has a neat guide to flaky crusts. Off to make coffee now—let me know how your batch turns out!

Baked Chicken Empanadas Recipe: My Go-To Comfort Food