By Labor Day. The pandemic's first Labor Day, which is just Labor Day but with masks and distance and the knowledge that the summer we survived was unlike any summer, and the fall ahead is unlike any fall, and the unlikeness is the new normal, and I hate the phrase 'new normal' because there is nothing normal about it, it is just new, and the new is exhausting in the way that learning a language is exhausting — everything requires translation, everything that was automatic now requires thought.
Dave grilled. Of course Dave grilled. Dave grills on Labor Day the way the sun rises in the east — it is physics, it is certain, it is Dave. Burgers, brats, hot dogs. I made the coleslaw and the baked beans and we ate in the backyard and Gayle came, again, masked, distanced, in her chair, and the fact that Gayle keeps coming to things — to birthdays and holidays and football games — is the most defiant act of love I have witnessed during this pandemic. Gayle is seventy-five years old and she is choosing to be present despite the risk because the risk of absence is worse than the risk of the virus, and Gayle has done the math, and Gayle's math is the math of a woman who has lost a husband and a daughter and will not lose the rest of them to a screen door.
Josie started fifth grade. She is adjusting to the hybrid schedule with the resilience of a child who has decided that resilience is the only option, which it is. She wears her mask without complaint and washes her hands without being told and has adapted to seeing half her class on alternate days with the flexibility that I did not have at ten and which I admire in her because the flexibility is not resignation, it is grace, and grace at ten is a gift.
I made the last grilling meal of the season: chicken kabobs — chicken, peppers, onions, zucchini, marinated in Italian dressing. Dave grilled them and they charred at the edges and softened in the middle and the char and the softening is the story of this summer: burned at the edges, tender in the center. We survived it. We survived the pandemic summer. The kabobs were the closing argument.
The kabobs Dave grilled that last weekend — the ones that charred at the edges and went soft in the middle — started with nothing fancier than Italian dressing and chicken, and that simplicity felt right for a season that had stripped everything down to what actually mattered. This Italian Chicken Tenderloins recipe is the closest I can get you to what was on that grill: bright with herbs, quick to come together, and honest in a way that only food cooked over fire at the end of a hard stretch can be. Make it when you need a meal that does the work without making you do all of it.
Italian Chicken Tenderloins
Prep Time: 10 min (plus 30 min marinating) | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 52 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs chicken tenderloins
- 3/4 cup Italian salad dressing
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Marinate the chicken. Place chicken tenderloins in a zip-top bag or shallow dish. Pour Italian dressing over the chicken, add minced garlic, Italian seasoning, and black pepper. Seal and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or up to 4 hours for deeper flavor.
- Preheat your grill or pan. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Brush grates lightly with olive oil to prevent sticking.
- Grill the tenderloins. Remove chicken from marinade, letting excess drip off. Grill tenderloins for 5 to 6 minutes per side, until cooked through and internal temperature reaches 165°F. The edges should show light char marks.
- Rest and serve. Transfer to a plate and let rest for 3 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve alongside grilled vegetables, coleslaw, or over a simple salad.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 265 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 620mg