By Summer is that long middle stretch now — the excitement of school ending has worn off, the back-to-school anxiety hasn't started, and the kids have entered that phase of summer where they're bored and hot and the phrase "there's nothing to do" echoes through the house like a curse. To which I respond: there is an entire yard, there are bicycles, there is a bayou ninety minutes south, and there is a pit in the backyard that needs tending. Boredom, in the Beaumont household, is a failure of imagination, not of options.
Luc is reading. He's discovered the library and has been devouring books about engineering and bridges and how things work, which tracks for a kid who will eventually become an engineer, though we don't know that yet. He read one about the Huey P. Long Bridge in New Orleans and asked me if I'd ever worked on a bridge, and I said no, I'm an electrician, not a structural engineer, and he said, "But you could learn," with such sincerity that I almost agreed. Ten years old and already thinks his daddy can do anything. I'll enjoy that while it lasts.
Colette has taken over a corner of the kitchen table as her "art studio." She draws constantly — people, houses, animals, things that might be aliens or might be what she's having for lunch. Danielle bought her a set of real colored pencils, not crayons, and Colette treats them like surgical instruments, laying them out in color order, sharpening them with the intensity of a diamond cutter. She drew a picture of the yellow cottage this week — from memory, because we haven't been down in a few weeks — and it was actually good. Not "good for a seven-year-old" but good. The proportions were right. The porch was right. She even drew the screen door. I put it on the fridge next to Rémy's masterpiece (this week: a truck, or possibly a sandwich).
I made a pot of red beans and rice on Monday, as God and tradition dictate. Monday red beans. It's not negotiable. It's not optional. It's Monday, and therefore it's red beans, and if you need a reason, the reason is that Cajun women used to do laundry on Mondays and red beans cook slow and don't need watching, and the tradition stuck even though washing machines exist now, because traditions don't need to make sense to matter. They just need to be Monday.
My red beans are simple: soak overnight, cook with andouille, onion, garlic, bay leaf, a ham hock if I've got one. The secret — every Cajun will tell you their secret and it's always different — is to smash some of the beans against the side of the pot with the back of your spoon. This thickens the liquid, makes it creamy, gives it that velvety texture that distinguishes good red beans from the canned stuff that should be illegal. Served over white rice with hot sauce and a slice of French bread. Rémy ate two bowls. The boy is consistent.
Took all three kids to the movies on Saturday — Finding Dory, which Rémy loved and Colette loved and Luc pretended not to love because he's ten and movies for babies are beneath him, except he laughed at every joke and cried at the end, which I pretended not to see because I was also crying and we Beaumont men have an agreement about public tears: they happen and we don't discuss them.
After a weekend like that — crying at a cartoon fish movie with my ten-year-old who was definitely not crying — I wanted something easy, something bright, something that didn’t ask much of me but still felt like effort. Foil packets are the antidote to heavy: you throw everything together, seal it up, and let the heat do the work while you do nothing, which some weeks is exactly the level of cooking I’m capable of. The Cajun seasoning keeps it honest, the pineapple keeps it from taking itself too seriously, and the whole thing comes together in thirty-five minutes, which is about how long it takes Rémy to remember he was supposed to set the table.
Grilled Cajun Chicken and Pineapple Foil Packets
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch chunks
- 2 cups fresh or canned pineapple chunks, drained
- 1 red bell pepper, chopped
- 1 green bell pepper, chopped
- 1/2 medium red onion, sliced thin
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 teaspoons Cajun seasoning
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or more, to taste)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
- Cooked white rice, for serving
- Hot sauce, for serving
Instructions
- Heat the grill. Preheat your grill to medium-high heat, about 400°F. Tear four large sheets of heavy-duty aluminum foil, roughly 12x18 inches each.
- Season the chicken. In a large bowl, toss the chicken chunks with olive oil, Cajun seasoning, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, salt, and black pepper. Stir to coat evenly.
- Build the packets. Divide the seasoned chicken evenly among the four foil sheets. Top each portion with pineapple chunks, bell peppers, and red onion. Fold the foil over and crimp the edges tightly to seal each packet.
- Grill. Place packets seam-side up on the grill. Cook for 20–25 minutes, until chicken is cooked through and reaches an internal temperature of 165°F. Avoid opening packets before the 20-minute mark to keep the steam inside.
- Rest and open carefully. Remove packets from the grill and let them rest for 3 minutes. Open carefully — hot steam will escape. Garnish with fresh parsley.
- Serve. Spoon over white rice. Set out the hot sauce. Step back.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg