Grilled Honey Mustard Chicken Kabobs

Labor Day weekend. The unofficial end of summer, though in Boise, summer doesn't end until October, when the heat finally breaks and the valley remembers what cool air feels like. Scott came home Thursday — the Lowman fire is contained — and he was in decent shape. Not wired like the last return, just tired. He slept for twelve hours straight on Thursday night and woke up Friday morning looking like a man who had just been released from prison: blinking, disoriented, free.

We didn't fight this weekend. We didn't really talk either, but we didn't fight, and I'll take it. There's a kind of peace that comes after a long deployment — a ceasefire, temporary but real. He's too tired to be restless. I'm too relieved to be angry. We exist in the same space without friction, and it almost feels like it used to, back when we were new and being in the same room was enough.

We took the kids to the zoo on Saturday. Mason wanted to see the snakes ("they don't have legs, Mama, isn't that WEIRD?"). Lily wanted to see the horses, except there are no horses at the zoo, which Lily found to be a serious organizational failure. She settled for the zebras, which she called "stripey horsies" and which I did not correct because she's three and close enough is close enough. Scott carried Lily on his shoulders and held Mason's hand, and we looked, from a distance, like a happy family, and maybe we were. Maybe happiness doesn't have to be constant to count. Maybe it can come in zoo-sized pieces.

Brett and Claire joined us for a Labor Day barbecue on Sunday. It's the first time Scott and Claire have been in the same space for an extended period, and it went better than I expected. Scott was polite. Claire was friendly. Brett was watchful — he always is around Scott, protective of me in a way that is both sweet and occasionally annoying, like having a bodyguard in a wheelchair who expresses concern primarily through sustained eye contact.

I made potato salad — Grandma Ruth's recipe, passed from Gary's mother to Diane to me. Yellow mustard, sweet pickle relish, hard-boiled eggs, celery, red onion. No mayo. The Dawson family does not put mayo in potato salad, and this is a hill we will die on collectively and individually. Brett had three servings. Claire had two and asked for the recipe, which Brett later told me is the moment he knew she was the one. I don't know if he's joking. With Brett, it's hard to tell.

The air quality improved this week — the smoke cleared, the sky turned blue again, and I could finally open the windows for the first time in weeks. Fresh air. It's such a small thing, and it felt enormous. I stood at the kitchen window on Sunday evening, after everyone was gone, and breathed in air that didn't taste like fire, and thought: summer is ending. The worst of it — the heat, the smoke, the deployment, the loneliness — is ending. Fall is coming. Fall has always been my season. And this fall, I have a kindergartner and a three-year-old and a mammogram appointment in September and a life that is hard but mine, and I am going to keep going because that is what Dawson women do.

The potato salad was Grandma Ruth’s, and it was not up for negotiation — but the main event on the grill that Sunday was these honey mustard chicken kabobs, which have become my go-to for gatherings where I need something that feeds a crowd, travels well to the backyard, and doesn’t require me to be standing over a hot stove while everyone else is drinking lemonade in the shade. They’re simple enough that I could throw them together while Scott and Brett were doing whatever it is men do when they are trying to be friendly with each other, and they’re the kind of thing that tastes like more effort than it actually was, which is exactly what a ceasefire barbecue calls for.

Prep Time: 20 minutes (plus 1 hour marinating) | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes active | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
1/3 cup honey
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 yellow bell pepper, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 medium red onion, cut into wedges
2 medium zucchini, sliced into 3/4-inch rounds
Metal or wooden skewers (if wooden, soak 30 minutes in water)

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a medium bowl, whisk together the honey, Dijon mustard, whole-grain mustard, olive oil, garlic, apple cider vinegar, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika until smooth and fully combined.
Marinate the chicken. Add the chicken cubes to the bowl and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to 8 hours. Reserve about 3 tablespoons of the marinade in a separate small bowl before adding the chicken — you’ll use this for basting.
Prep the vegetables. Cut the bell peppers, red onion, and zucchini into uniform pieces roughly the same size as the chicken cubes so everything cooks evenly. Lightly brush or toss the vegetables with a little olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Assemble the kabobs. Thread the chicken and vegetables onto skewers in an alternating pattern — chicken, pepper, onion, zucchini, chicken — leaving a small gap between each piece to allow heat to circulate. Do not pack them too tightly.
Preheat and oil the grill. Heat an outdoor grill to medium-high (around 400°F). Lightly oil the grates with a folded paper towel dipped in vegetable oil, using tongs to avoid burns.
Grill the kabobs. Place the skewers on the grill and cook for 12 to 15 minutes total, turning every 3 to 4 minutes to ensure even browning on all sides. During the last 2 minutes, brush the kabobs with the reserved marinade for a glossy, caramelized finish.
Check for doneness. The chicken is done when it reads 165°F on an instant-read thermometer and shows no pink at the center. The vegetables should be tender with light char marks.
Rest and serve. Remove the kabobs from the grill and let them rest for 3 minutes before serving. Serve directly on the skewers or slide the pieces off onto a platter alongside potato salad, a green salad, or whatever Grandma’s recipe demands.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Honey Mustard Chicken Kabobs — The Barbecue That Held