Grilled Lime Cilantro Chicken with Guacamole

I turn thirty-two on Thursday. Thirty-two. My dad was thirty-two when he taught me to ride a bike in the Maryvale street, holding the seat and running beside me until he let go and I didn't notice for half a block. I am now the age of that man, and in a few months I'm going to have a son of my own to teach. The symmetry is not lost on me. The weight of it isn't either.

Jessica is seven months pregnant and exhausted in the way that only third-trimester-in-Arizona can produce. She wanted to make a big deal of my birthday. I told her the biggest deal she could make was staying hydrated and not going into early labor. She said "fine, but I'm ordering a cake." She ordered a tres leches from the same Mexican bakery the firehouse used last year, which means she called my crew for the recommendation, which means she and Orozco have a relationship I didn't know about. I find this both heartwarming and vaguely threatening.

Birthday celebration: quiet. Just us. Jessica, Sofia, and the belly. Sofia gave me a card she'd made at my parents' house — this one with a handprint (bigger than last year, because time) and the words "Happy Berthday Daddy" in Elena's handwriting with Sofia's crayon additions. The "e" in "birthday" is apparently a Rivera family spelling. I will keep this card until I die.

My crew surprised me on shift — again — with a cake (store-bought this time, chocolate, because they're not Jessica) and a card signed by everyone at Station 19. The card said "To Chef Rivera — another year of not burning down the kitchen." Ruiz added "P.S. please never leave." I put the card in my locker. The locker is getting full. I might need a bigger locker. Or maybe I just need to keep accumulating evidence that I am loved, which seems like a better problem than most.

Made my own birthday dinner: homemade tacos on the patio. Nothing special, nothing complicated. Carne asada in my dad's marinade, grilled on the Weber, served on warm corn tortillas with onion, cilantro, and salsa verde. Sofia ate a quesadilla because she's in the quesadilla phase (every toddler has a quesadilla phase; it's developmental). Jessica ate three tacos and then a fourth that she blamed on Diego. Roberto called and said "happy birthday, mijo. Thirty-two. You're getting old." He's sixty-one. I didn't point this out. Some battles aren't worth fighting.

I went with carne asada for my birthday because that’s my dad’s marinade and it felt right — but the bones of that dinner are the same every time I fire up the Weber in the summer: citrus, cilantro, something charred and a little smoky, and a cold bowl of guacamole that Sofia will inevitably put her whole hand into. This grilled lime cilantro chicken is that same dinner in a different form, just as simple and just as good, and honestly it’s the version I make most often when it’s a weeknight and I don’t want to think too hard. Warm corn tortillas, a handful of onion and cilantro on top — it’s a birthday dinner waiting to happen any day of the week.

Prep Time: 15 min (plus 30 min marinating) | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs (or breasts)
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
1 teaspoon lime zest
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped, plus more for serving
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
For the Guacamole:
2 ripe avocados, halved and pitted
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1 small jalapeño, seeded and minced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
Warm corn tortillas, for serving

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a bowl or zip-top bag, combine lime juice, lime zest, olive oil, garlic, cilantro, cumin, chili powder, salt, and pepper. Whisk to combine.
Marinate the chicken. Add the chicken to the marinade and turn to coat. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or up to 4 hours. Don’t go longer — the lime juice will start to break down the texture.
Make the guacamole. Scoop avocado flesh into a bowl. Add lime juice, red onion, cilantro, jalapeño, and salt. Mash with a fork to your preferred consistency — chunky is fine. Taste and adjust salt or lime. Press plastic wrap directly against the surface if not serving immediately.
Heat the grill. Preheat a gas or charcoal grill to medium-high heat (about 400°F). Clean and oil the grates.
Grill the chicken. Remove chicken from the marinade and shake off any excess. Grill thighs 6–7 minutes per side, or breasts 5–6 minutes per side, until internal temperature reaches 165°F and grill marks are well developed. Let rest 5 minutes before slicing.
Slice and serve. Slice chicken against the grain and pile onto warm corn tortillas. Top with guacamole, extra cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. Add diced white onion and salsa verde if you have them.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Lime Cilantro Chicken with Guacamole — The Birthday Dinner That Didn’t Need to Be Special