Grilled Pineapple Chicken Sandwiches

Late June. The farmers market is in full summer abundance — berries, stone fruit, tomatoes arriving early, the cornucopia that Portland offers for exactly three months before the rain returns and the abundance retreats into root vegetables and squash. I buy with both hands and cook with the urgency of a woman who knows the season is short and the peaches will not last and the berries are a miracle of sugar and sun that cannot be stored, only eaten, now, while they are here.

I made Japanese-style fruit sandwiches — sando — with fresh strawberries and whipped cream between slices of soft white bread, the crusts removed, the whole thing cut diagonally to reveal the cross-section of fruit. Fruit sando is a Japanese convenience store masterpiece: simple, beautiful, the architecture of the cut revealing the pattern of the strawberry inside. Fumiko did not make fruit sando — it is a younger generation's food — but the principle is hers: beautiful first, delicious second. The sando is beautiful. The sando is also delicious. Both counts satisfied.

Miya and I planted a small herb garden on the balcony — expanding beyond shiso to include shishito peppers, green onion, and a tiny pot of Japanese basil. The balcony is becoming a garden, and the garden is becoming a project, and the project is becoming a collaboration between a mother who gardens because her father gardens and a daughter who gardens because her mother gardens, the chain extending from Ken's daikon rows to our balcony pots, the scale different, the intention identical: grow something. Tend it. Feed someone with it.

I have been reading about Japanese home cooking — not Fumiko's specifically, but the broader tradition, the cultural context, the way Japanese women have cooked for centuries, the invisible labor of the kitchen, the way food is love and love is invisible and the invisibility is both the beauty and the tragedy. The reading is research for the essays I'm writing, and the essays are research for the next book (there is already a next book forming in the back of my mind, the way dashi forms: slowly, overnight, in the dark). The next book is about two kitchens — the Japanese kitchen and the American kitchen, the neither and the both. But that is later. That is the dashi still soaking. The heat has not been applied.

The fruit sando I made this week — those perfect strawberry-and-cream rectangles — reminded me that sandwiches are an architecture, not just an assembly. That lesson carried straight into dinner, when I wanted to stay in that spirit of fruit-meets-bread but feed Miya something a little more substantial after an afternoon of balcony gardening. These grilled pineapple chicken sandwiches are summer abundance in the same key: sweet fruit, careful layering, the cross-section that rewards you when you cut it open. Fumiko might not have recognized a fruit sando, but I think she would have understood the intention here — something beautiful, something made with the season while it lasts.

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

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each), pounded to even thickness
4 fresh pineapple rings (about 1/2 inch thick)
4 brioche or soft burger buns, split
4 slices pepper jack or Swiss cheese
1/4 cup teriyaki sauce, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
4 large lettuce leaves (butter or romaine)
4 slices ripe tomato
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon sriracha or hot sauce (optional)

Instructions

Marinate the chicken. Place chicken breasts in a shallow dish. Drizzle with 3 tablespoons of the teriyaki sauce, olive oil, garlic powder, and smoked paprika. Season with salt and pepper. Turn to coat evenly and let sit for at least 10 minutes (or up to 30 minutes) while the grill heats.
Preheat the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Oil the grates lightly to prevent sticking.
Grill the chicken. Place chicken on the grill and cook for 5 to 6 minutes per side, until internal temperature reaches 165°F and grill marks are well developed. Brush with remaining 1 tablespoon teriyaki sauce in the last minute of cooking.
Grill the pineapple. While the chicken rests, place pineapple rings on the hot grill for 2 to 3 minutes per side until caramelized and lightly charred at the edges. Remove and set aside.
Toast the buns. Place the buns cut-side down on the grill for 1 to 2 minutes until lightly golden.
Make the sauce. Stir together mayonnaise and sriracha (if using) in a small bowl.
Assemble. Spread the sriracha mayo on the cut sides of each bun. Layer on lettuce, tomato, a grilled chicken breast, a slice of cheese, and a grilled pineapple ring. Close the bun and press gently. Cut diagonally to reveal the cross-section of fruit and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Pineapple Chicken Sandwiches — When the Season Calls for Beautiful Things Between Bread