1. Pat the chicken breasts dry with paper towels and season both sides generously with salt, pepper, and dried oregano. This step is crucial; seasoning early allows the flavors to penetrate the meat, a trick my Nonna Rosa swore by.
2. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When shimmering, add the chicken breasts and sear until golden brown on one side, about 5 minutes. Flip and cook for another 4-5 minutes, or until cooked through (internal temperature should reach 165°F). Remove chicken from skillet and set aside on a warm plate, tented with foil.
3. Lower the heat to medium, add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil, then toss in the minced garlic. Stir for about 30 seconds until fragrant—be careful not to burn it. This simple aromatic always reminds me of my mother’s kitchen, where garlic was king.
4. Add the sliced mushrooms to the pan. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms release their moisture and start to brown, about 6-7 minutes. This caramelization brings out a deep, earthy flavor that’s absolutely essential.
5. Pour in the chicken broth and stir to deglaze the pan, scraping up any browned bits stuck to the bottom. Let the broth simmer for 2-3 minutes to reduce slightly and concentrate flavors.
6. Add the chopped spinach in batches, stirring to wilt it down before adding more. This helps keep the spinach tender and vibrant, a method I learned from watching the bustling market vendors in Florence.
7. Return the chicken breasts to the skillet, nestling them into the bed of spinach and mushrooms. Sprinkle the grated Parmesan cheese evenly over the top. Cover the skillet and let everything meld together over low heat for 2-3 minutes, allowing the cheese to melt gently and the chicken to stay warm.
8. For an extra touch of richness, stir in a tablespoon of butter just before serving. This step is optional but adds a silky finish that made my mother smile every time she added it to her sauces.
9. Adjust seasoning with additional salt, pepper, or crushed red pepper flakes if you like a little kick.

Through the years, I’ve found that patience during each step—letting the mushrooms brown fully, allowing the spinach to wilt slowly, and not rushing the chicken—makes all the difference between a good dish and one that transports you straight to a family gathering filled with laughter and love.