Chinese Lemon Chicken

Three weeks. Liam has started having periods where he's awake and not crying—just looking. He looks at the ceiling fan over the crib with the focused attention he'll presumably someday apply to more complex subjects, and I sit in the chair next to the crib and watch him look at the ceiling fan and it's one of the stranger joys I've encountered.

I made my first real meal since bringing him home. Real meaning I stood at the stove for forty minutes and made something from scratch and it required judgment and attention. Chicken thighs braised with white wine and lemon, roasted asparagus because the asparagus was on sale and it's spring and asparagus in spring is a requirement. Sean came home from work and said "you cooked" with a quality in his voice that was half relief and half something warmer. I said "yes." He said "it smells incredible." It did.

The cooking came back like a reflex. I was standing there with a wooden spoon and there was something in the act of it—the smell of the butter browning, the hiss when the wine hit the pan, the particular attention the stove demands—that was the first moment in three weeks where I was simply myself, not new-mother-Kate with her adjusting and enduring and loving-past-exhaustion, just Kate at the stove making dinner. It lasted forty minutes and then Liam woke up and I was back. But I had it. I know where it is now.

The body finds its way back. So does the self, apparently. In forty-minute increments.

That braised chicken with lemon was the dish that brought me back to the stove, and now I keep reaching for recipes where lemon and chicken do the work together. This Chinese Lemon Chicken has become a regular since then — it’s the same kind of focused, start-to-finish cooking that demands just enough of your attention to quiet everything else, and the bright, tangy sauce hits that same nerve as the white wine and lemon did that first night. Forty minutes, a wooden spoon, and something that smells incredible when Sean walks through the door.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
1/2 cup cornstarch
2 large eggs, beaten
1/4 cup vegetable oil, for pan-frying
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

For the Lemon Sauce:

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
1/4 cup honey
3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 cup chicken broth
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
2 tablespoons cornstarch mixed with 2 tablespoons water (slurry)
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Zest of 1 lemon

For Serving:

Steamed white rice
Sliced scallions, for garnish
Sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

Season and coat the chicken. Pat the chicken pieces dry and season generously with salt and pepper. Dip each piece in beaten egg, then dredge in cornstarch, shaking off any excess.
Pan-fry until golden. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Working in batches to avoid crowding, cook the chicken pieces for 3–4 minutes per side until golden and crispy. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate.
Make the lemon sauce. In the same skillet, reduce heat to medium and pour off all but 1 tablespoon of oil. Add the garlic and ginger and cook for 30 seconds until fragrant. Add the chicken broth, lemon juice, honey, soy sauce, and rice vinegar. Bring to a simmer and stir well.
Thicken the sauce. Give the cornstarch slurry a stir and pour it into the simmering sauce. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the sauce thickens and turns glossy. Stir in the sesame oil and lemon zest.
Combine and serve. Return the crispy chicken to the skillet and toss gently to coat every piece in the lemon sauce. Serve immediately over steamed rice, garnished with sliced scallions and sesame seeds.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chinese Lemon Chicken — Forty Minutes Back to Myself