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Chicken Tikka — The Love Letter I Could Actually Write Tonight

Valentine's Day week. Year four of tulips and quiet celebrations and the specific romance of two people who are too tired for candlelit dinners but not too tired for love. Raj made breakfast in bed — pancakes, his signature dish, perfectly round, perfectly golden. Anaya crawled into bed with us and ate a pancake with syrup on her face and pajamas and hair, and Raj looked at both of us and said, "This is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had," and he meant it absolutely. For dinner, I made Amma's mutton biryani — the most romantic food I know, which is an unusual claim but hear me out: biryani takes four hours of intention. Four hours of marinating, layering, sealing, slow-cooking. Four hours of saying "I chose to spend my time making this for you." That's not just dinner. That's a love letter, written in saffron. Raj ate three helpings and said nothing because his mouth was full and also because sometimes the best compliment is the sound of someone eating without stopping. The book is at twenty thousand words. Four chapters drafted. The writing happens in stolen moments — between Anaya's bedtime and my exhaustion, in the early morning before work, during lunch breaks at the hospital when I should be eating but I'm typing instead. Sarah Chen says the publisher wants the manuscript by fall 2033. That's far away and also not far enough. The book needs more recipes, more stories, more Amma. I need to sit with her and cook with her and write about her more. I need time. Time. Always time. The commodity I never have enough of and the one thing I can't compound or prescription or pharmacist my way into having more of. I made chai at 11 PM, after Raj fell asleep. One cup. For me. The cup that says: you did today. Tomorrow you'll do again. The chai was strong and sweet and I drank it in the rocking chair and wrote five hundred words about my mother's hands and the way they move when she measures a generous pinch. Five hundred words. A generous pinch of a chapter. Enough for tonight.

Amma’s mutton biryani is a four-hour love letter — and I know not every night has four hours to give. On the nights when the manuscript is open and Anaya is finally asleep and Raj is already nodding off on the couch, I reach for something that carries the same intention in a shorter envelope: Chicken Tikka, deeply marinated, perfumed with the same spices that live in my mother’s kitchen. It won’t replace the biryani — nothing does — but the overnight marinade means you’re still choosing, ahead of time, to do something beautiful for the people at your table.

Chicken Tikka

Prep Time: 20 min (plus 4–8 hours marinating) | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min active | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 2-inch pieces
  • 3/4 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  • 1 tablespoon neutral oil (such as avocado or canola)
  • 4 garlic cloves, finely grated
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, finely grated
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons garam masala
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon ground coriander
  • 1 teaspoon Kashmiri red chili powder (or 1/2 teaspoon cayenne)
  • 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • Sliced red onion, fresh cilantro, and lemon wedges, to serve

Instructions

  1. Make the marinade. In a large bowl, whisk together yogurt, lemon juice, oil, garlic, ginger, garam masala, cumin, coriander, chili powder, turmeric, salt, and black pepper until smooth and well combined.
  2. Marinate the chicken. Add chicken pieces to the marinade and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight for best results. The longer it sits, the deeper the flavor.
  3. Preheat the broiler. Position an oven rack about 6 inches from the broiler element and preheat to high. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and set a wire rack on top. Lightly oil the rack.
  4. Arrange the chicken. Remove chicken from the marinade, shaking off any excess, and arrange pieces in a single layer on the prepared wire rack. Do not crowd them — space allows the edges to char and caramelize.
  5. Broil. Broil for 10–12 minutes, then flip each piece and broil another 10–12 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through (internal temperature 165°F) and the edges are deeply bronzed in places. Watch carefully in the last few minutes; the char is the point, but it moves fast.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the chicken rest for 5 minutes before transferring to a platter. Serve over basmati rice or with warm flatbread, topped with sliced red onion, torn cilantro, and a generous squeeze of lemon.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 520mg

Priya Krishnamurthy
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 202 of Priya’s 30-year story · Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.

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