Easy Balsamic Chicken Skewers

Post-Thanksgiving. The leftover cycle: turkey sandwiches (day 1), turkey soup (day 2), turkey enchiladas (day 3 — Chloe's innovation, recycling the turkey into a new cuisine, which is either creative or heretical and I choose creative). By day 4, the turkey is gone and the apartment smells like a memory of Thursday and we return to the normal meals of a normal week. Grilled cheese. Pasta. The routine re-establishing itself after the holiday disruption.

Kevin drove back to Clarksville with his empty baking dish and the quiet satisfaction of a man who cooked for Thanksgiving and lived to tell about it. He called Tuesday: "I'm going to make the casserole for Christmas too." He's hooked. One successful casserole and the man is hooked. Cooking does that — one dish that works, one moment of "I made that," and you're in. You're a cook. Not a chef, not an expert, but a cook. A person who makes food for people. Kevin is a cook now. The $12 baking dish was the best investment he's ever made.

Sarah's Table: I made a decision. January. I'm renting the Madison kitchen in January. $200 a month. Sunday access. I'll start by catering small events — church potlucks (paid versions, not the free ones I've been doing for years), office lunches, small parties. The menu: comfort food, Southern roots, Earline's recipes. The food I know. The food that closes people's eyes when they eat it. I'm not inventing something new. I'm packaging something that already exists — the meals I've been making for twenty years, the recipes from the box, the food that people keep telling me to sell. I'm selling it. Starting January. The plan has a month on it now. The plan has a number ($200) and a day (Sunday) and a month (January). The plan is a plan.

Elijah is twenty-one months. He's forming sentences — short ones, two or three words. "Want mo." "No, mine." "Nana go?" (When Lorraine leaves — the most devastating two-word question a grandmother has ever heard. "Nana go?" with the rising inflection of a toddler who doesn't understand that the person who holds him all day has to go home. Mama's answer, every time: "Nana comes back. Nana always comes back." The comes-back. The Mitchell promise. The antidote to every leaving this family has ever survived: Nana comes back.)

I made Mama's chicken and rice — the ugly beige comfort meal — because post-Thanksgiving requires simplicity and the chicken and rice is the reset button. The meal that returns everything to baseline. The meal that says: the feast is over. The normal is back. The normal is good. The normal is a woman standing at a stove in a small apartment with a plan and a month and a number, and the chicken and rice simmers and the toddler says "Nana go?" and the grandmother says "Nana comes back" and the food holds. The food always holds.

The turkey was gone by day four, and Elijah was pulling at my leg wanting his normal dinner — not the feast, not the leftovers, just something simple and warm and ours. The chicken and rice is Mama’s, but on the nights I want that same reset energy with a little less time at the stove, these balsamic chicken skewers are the answer: a quick marinade, a hot pan, and ten minutes of actual cooking that reminds you the ordinary week is a gift. If you’re building a catering menu around food that closes people’s eyes, this one earns its place — it’s simple enough for a Tuesday and good enough to sell.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium zucchini, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
1/2 red onion, cut into 1-inch chunks
8 wooden or metal skewers (if wooden, soak in water 30 minutes)

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a medium bowl, whisk together the balsamic vinegar, olive oil, garlic, honey, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper until combined.
Marinate the chicken. Add the chicken cubes to the marinade and toss to coat. Let sit at room temperature for at least 10 minutes, or cover and refrigerate up to 4 hours.
Assemble the skewers. Thread the marinated chicken, bell pepper, zucchini, and red onion onto skewers, alternating pieces and dividing evenly among all skewers.
Heat your cooking surface. Preheat a grill, grill pan, or large cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Lightly oil the grates or pan.
Cook the skewers. Place skewers on the hot surface and cook for 12–15 minutes total, turning every 3–4 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through (internal temperature reaches 165°F) and the edges are lightly charred.
Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let rest 2–3 minutes before serving. Serve over rice, alongside a simple salad, or with crusty bread to soak up the juices.

Nutrition (per serving)

Easy Balsamic Chicken Skewers — The Weeknight Reset After the Feast