Piri Piri Chicken Potato Skewers

Fourth of July. Independence Day. The day America celebrates with fireworks and hamburgers and the collective pretense that freedom tastes like a hot dog from a package. Eduardo wanted to grill again — the man is obsessed with grilling from May to September, like he is personally responsible for keeping the charcoal industry alive — and I let him because it is a holiday and holidays are about generosity and my generosity includes letting Eduardo believe he is a grill master.

But I also made my own menu because Carmen Delgado-Ortiz does not serve hamburgers and hot dogs as a complete meal. I made pinchos — Puerto Rican meat skewers marinated in adobo and grilled with chunks of bread between the pieces, the way they sell them at the kiosks in Luquillo Beach. I made arroz con maiz — rice with corn, simple, summery, the kind of thing Mami made when it was too hot to think. I made a big jug of limber — coconut ice pops, frozen in little cups, sweet and cold and everything Hartford needs in July.

Miguel Jr. and Jenny came. I am warming up to this girl, slowly, the way a glacier warms up, which is to say almost imperceptibly but with great eventual significance. She brought brownies. American brownies, from a box. I put them on the table and I said nothing. I said nothing because I am growing as a person and because the brownies were actually not bad, and because Jenny ate my pinchos with her hands and got adobo on her chin and laughed about it, and any woman who can get adobo on her chin and laugh about it at my table is moving in the right direction.

Sofia and her friends watched fireworks from the backyard. I watched Sofia watching fireworks and thought about how this time next year she will be graduated and leaving and the house will be quieter and I am not ready for quiet. I am fifty years old and I have never known quiet. Seven siblings in Bayamon. Four children in Hartford. Fifteen hundred meals a day at the hospital. My life is noise and heat and motion, and I love it, and the idea of silence terrifies me the way some people are terrified of loud sounds.

Called Mami. She said, Happy Fourth. I said, Mami, Puerto Rico is part of America. She said, We are a colony, Carmen. I said, Mami, not on the phone. She said, On every phone. She is right. She is always right. My mother, the independence activist from her porch in Bayamon. I love this woman. I sent her limbers via my cousin who was flying down next week. You cannot FedEx coconut ice pops but you can send them with a cousin, and cousins are the original delivery service.

Every year the grill belongs to Eduardo, but the menu belongs to me — and when I need a recipe that carries the same heat and celebration as a Hartford Fourth of July, I come back to these Piri Piri Chicken Potato Skewers. They are not pinchos, exactly, but they have the same soul: bold marinade, open flame, meat that falls apart at the edges and chars just enough to make you reach for another. Jenny got adobo on her chin and laughed, and I thought — next time, she gets piri piri. She will fit right in.

Prep Time: 20 min (plus 1 hr marinating) | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 1 hr 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 lb baby potatoes, halved (or quartered if large)
1/3 cup piri piri sauce (store-bought or homemade)
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional, for extra heat)
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (for serving)
Lemon wedges, for serving
Wooden or metal skewers (if wooden, soak 30 min before use)

Instructions

Marinate the chicken. In a large bowl, whisk together the piri piri sauce, 2 tablespoons olive oil, minced garlic, smoked paprika, oregano, red pepper flakes, salt, and black pepper. Add the chicken pieces and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to 8 hours for deeper flavor.
Par-cook the potatoes. Place the halved baby potatoes in a saucepan and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil and cook for 8–10 minutes, until just fork-tender but not falling apart. Drain well and toss with the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, plus a pinch of salt and paprika.
Thread the skewers. Alternate chicken pieces and potato halves on each skewer, pressing them snugly together. Plan for roughly 3–4 pieces of chicken and 3 potato halves per skewer.
Preheat the grill. Heat a gas or charcoal grill to medium-high (about 400°F). Oil the grates lightly to prevent sticking.
Grill the skewers. Place skewers on the hot grill and cook for 4–5 minutes per side, turning once or twice, until the chicken is cooked through (internal temperature 165°F) and both the chicken and potatoes have good char marks on the edges.
Rest and serve. Remove skewers from the grill and let rest for 3 minutes. Arrange on a platter, scatter fresh parsley over the top, and serve with lemon wedges on the side for squeezing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Piri Piri Chicken Potato Skewers — The Skewers That Held the Holiday Together