Easy Honey Mustard Chicken

Palm Sunday again, and the cycle turns the way it turns every year, familiar and sacred and wearing the same clothes it wore last time. Calvin preached. The children waved branches. The choir sang. I sat in the front pew and felt the year's weight settle over me like a shawl — not heavy, just present. One year ago I sat in this same pew planning Easter dinner and listening to Marcus talk about Tuskegee, and now here I am planning Easter dinner and listening to Marcus talk about Tuskegee, and the repetition is not boring, it is the architecture of a life, the recurring beams that hold the structure up.

Easter prep started Monday. The menu is the same as last year because the Easter menu does not change and will not change and cannot change because changing the Easter menu at New Hope AME would require a vote, a prayer meeting, and possibly an exorcism. Ham, fried chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese, candied yams, potato salad, deviled eggs, cornbread, pound cake, peach cobbler, banana pudding. I have written this list so many times it is tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. I see it when I close my eyes. This is not a complaint. This is a love letter.

Destiny came home for Easter week. She is finishing her sophomore year at UAB and looking stronger, more sure of herself, more like the woman she is becoming and less like the girl she was. She helped me prep on Thursday — peeling potatoes, boiling eggs, dicing onions with a competence that surprised me because the last time she helped with Easter prep she was nineteen and uncertain with a knife, and now she is twenty and decisive. A year can change a woman. A kitchen can change a woman faster.

Marcus volunteered to help set up tables in the fellowship hall on Saturday, and I watched him through the kitchen pass-through window as he moved chairs and spread tablecloths with the easy efficiency of a boy who has been setting up church events his whole life. He is so tall now. When did he get so tall? The question is rhetorical. He got tall the way he got everything — gradually, then suddenly, the way collard greens cook, slow and then all at once.

The kitchen was ready by Saturday night. Every pot was assigned a dish. Every burner was claimed. The hams were in the refrigerator glazed and waiting. The chicken was seasoned and resting. The greens were washed and cut. Tomorrow the cooking begins at four in the morning, and I will be there, the way I am always there, standing at the stove in the dark before dawn, feeding the church that feeds my family, turning raw ingredients into something holy. That is the Easter story, is it not? Taking what is raw and broken and dead and making it rise. The bread rises. The Lord rises. The kitchen rises. Amen.

The chicken gets seasoned Thursday night and rests in the refrigerator until Sunday, which means by the time the four o’clock alarm goes off and I am standing at the stove in the dark, the hard part is already done. This honey mustard glaze is the reason the chicken disappears before the ham does — that sweet, tangy pull on a golden skin will do that every single time. I started making it this way three Easters ago and the church has not let me change it since, which is exactly how it should be.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

3 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and drumsticks
1/3 cup Dijon mustard
1/3 cup honey
2 tablespoons whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon onion powder
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
Fresh thyme or parsley for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Pat the chicken pieces completely dry with paper towels — this is what gets you a golden skin instead of a steamed one. Place in a single layer in a large baking dish or rimmed sheet pan.
Make the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard, honey, whole-grain mustard, apple cider vinegar, garlic, smoked paprika, onion powder, salt, pepper, and olive oil until smooth and fully combined.
Coat the chicken. Spoon the glaze generously over every piece, turning to coat all sides. If you are seasoning the night before, cover and refrigerate overnight — the flavor goes deeper and the morning is easier.
Roast. Bake uncovered for 35 to 40 minutes, until the skin is deeply golden and caramelized and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part reads 165°F. Spoon pan juices over the chicken once halfway through cooking.
Rest and serve. Let the chicken rest 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with fresh thyme or parsley if you have it. Transfer to a serving platter and watch it go.

Nutrition (per serving)

Easy Honey Mustard Chicken — The Dish That Shows Up Every Easter Without Being Asked