Hawaiian Chicken

June. The month of weddings and endings and the strange suspension of a world that is both on fire and standing still. The protests continue. The virus continues. The school year ends virtually — Marcus and Jasmine finish from the dining table, submitting finals through a screen. Isaiah and Zoe finish from the kitchen table. The house exhales. Summer begins. Summer in a pandemic, in a townhouse, with six people and a wedding in six weeks.

Set the Table has been suspended for three months. I miss it with a physical ache — the kitchen, the girls, the Saturday mornings that are the closest thing I have to church outside of church. Destiny calls weekly. She graduated high school — virtually, in a cap and gown in her living room, with her mother crying in the background. She's been accepted to Johnson & Wales for January (deferred from fall due to COVID). She is eighteen years old and she is going to culinary school and the girl who asked "What's the difference?" is about to learn the difference in a professional kitchen and I am so proud I can barely speak when she tells me.

Made a graduation dinner for Destiny — delivered to her porch, the pandemic style. Fried chicken (Mama's recipe — Destiny's specialty, but I made it for HER because the teacher gets to cook for the student sometimes and this is one of those times). Cornbread. Peach cobbler. A card that said: "You made this. Don't forget it." The words from the first class. The words from Mama. The words that circle back, always, to the kitchen, to the hands, to the girl who held a spatula for the first time and became someone new.

Mama’s fried chicken belongs to Destiny now — she earned it, and someday she’ll teach it in a kitchen of her own. But when I was putting together that porch delivery, I knew I wanted something alongside it that felt like celebration in every bite: bright, sweet, a little unexpected, the way the best moments are. This Hawaiian Chicken is the kind of dish that says this day matters without saying a word — the pineapple lifts everything, the glaze pulls it all together, and the warmth that comes out of that pan is the same warmth I wanted Destiny to open when she carried that plate inside.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs (or breasts), cut into 1-inch pieces
1 can (20 oz) pineapple chunks in juice, drained — juice reserved
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
3 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger)
1 tablespoon cornstarch
2 tablespoons cold water
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
3 green onions, sliced (for garnish)
Cooked white rice, for serving

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the reserved pineapple juice, soy sauce, brown sugar, ketchup, rice vinegar, garlic, and ginger until the sugar dissolves. Set aside.
Brown the chicken. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the chicken pieces in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes until golden on the bottom. Flip and cook another 2–3 minutes until cooked through. Transfer to a plate.
Cook the pepper. In the same skillet, add the red bell pepper and cook over medium heat for 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until slightly softened but still bright.
Add the sauce. Return the chicken to the skillet and pour the sauce over everything. Stir in the pineapple chunks. Bring to a gentle boil over medium heat.
Thicken the glaze. Stir the cornstarch and cold water together in a small bowl until smooth. Pour into the skillet while stirring, and cook for 2–3 minutes until the sauce thickens into a glossy glaze that coats the chicken and fruit.
Serve. Spoon over steamed white rice and garnish generously with sliced green onions. Serve hot.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hawaiian Chicken — Sweet, Bright, and Made With Pride for the Graduate