Bourbon Chicken — The Skillet Supper Gloria Would Approve Of

The time changed this weekend and I hate it. I know that's not an interesting thing to say — everybody hates it, everybody complains, it's the one thing that unites the entire country — but I hate it specifically because dark at five o'clock means I leave the daycare in the dark and drive home in the dark and walk to my apartment door in the dark and the dark has never been neutral for me. Dark was the Bedford house, where the hallway light didn't work and nobody fixed it. Dark was Dale's house, where you learned to be asleep before he came home. I'm eighteen and I live alone and I still turn on every light in my apartment the second I walk in. The electric bill will reflect this. I don't care.

The toddlers are unbothered by the time change because toddlers are unbothered by everything except being told no and having their crackers taken. Mia has a new word: "mine." She says it about everything. The blocks are mine. The chair is mine. Miss Savannah's shoe is mine. I respect the audacity. When you're two, claiming things is how you learn you exist. When you're eighteen and aged out of foster care, claiming things is how you learn you're allowed to exist. Different scale, same principle.

I made collard greens for the first time this week, alone, in my apartment, because Gloria mentioned Thanksgiving is coming and I panicked. Not about Thanksgiving itself — Gloria and James already said I'm coming to their house — but about the fact that I can't make collard greens and I'm supposed to be learning. Gloria's recipe is deceptively short on the index card: greens, ham hock, onion, vinegar, salt, sugar, water. Cook low and slow. But "low and slow" is three hours and my apartment smelled like a swamp for all of them and the greens were bitter because I didn't cook them long enough because I got impatient at hour two. Gloria would say that's my whole problem — impatience. She'd be right. I ate them anyway, with hot sauce, standing at the counter because I forgot my own rule about eating at the table. The second batch will be better. There will be a second batch.

Sunday at Gloria's was quiet. James raked leaves in the yard while Gloria and I made a pot of chicken and rice — nothing fancy, just thighs browned in the skillet, rice cooked in the same pot with broth and onion. Comfort food. The kind of meal that doesn't need a name because its name is Tuesday. I helped Gloria wash the dishes and she asked about my week and I told her about the time change and the dark and she said, "Leave a light on, baby. There's no prize for sitting in the dark." So now I leave the porch light on all night. It costs pennies. It's worth everything.

After that Sunday at Gloria’s—the quiet of it, the smell of chicken browning in the skillet, the way a simple pot of rice and broth can feel like an answer to something—I came home wanting to cook something that had that same weight to it. Bourbon chicken isn’t the same dish, but it’s got that same energy: nothing fancy, just thighs and a sauce that comes together fast and tastes like you meant it. Here’s how I made it.

Bourbon Chicken

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/3 cup low-sodium soy sauce
• 1/4 cup bourbon (or apple juice as a substitute)
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons ketchup
• 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons cold water
• 3 cups cooked white rice, for serving
• 2 green onions, sliced, for garnish

Instructions

1. Brown the chicken. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken pieces in a single layer — don’t crowd the pan. Cook 4 to 5 minutes per side until golden and slightly caramelized. Remove chicken to a plate and set aside.
2. Build the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, bourbon, brown sugar, ketchup, apple cider vinegar, ginger, and red pepper flakes until the sugar begins to dissolve.
3. Add garlic and deglaze. Reduce heat to medium. Add garlic to the skillet and cook 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour the sauce in and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan — that’s flavor, don’t leave it behind.
4. Thicken the sauce. Stir cornstarch into the cold water until smooth, then whisk the slurry into the simmering sauce. Let it cook 2 minutes until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
5. Return the chicken. Add the browned chicken back to the skillet. Stir to coat and simmer on low 5 to 7 minutes until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce clings to every piece.
6. Serve. Spoon over hot white rice and scatter green onions on top. Eat at the table if you can manage it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 415 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 870mg