Rainbow Hawaiian Chicken Kabobs

Summer. The space between. Marcus is done with middle school and not yet in high school, which puts him in a liminal zone of freedom and boredom and the particular restlessness of a fourteen-year-old who has nowhere to be. He reads. He cooks (his tacos have evolved — he's added a homemade salsa that uses roasted tomatillos, which he learned from a YouTube video, and the salsa is genuinely excellent). He argues with the TV news anchors, practicing rebuttals against people who can't hear him. He is becoming.

Father's Day. I took the kids to Curtis for his steak dinner — the annual tradition, T-bone, cast iron, baked potato. But this year I also cooked for Derek. A separate dinner. Saturday night, after the kids were settled. I made him jerk chicken — Claudette's recipe, which she gave me with the solemnity of a diplomat handing over state secrets ("Don't tell my sister in Montego Bay"). It was good. Not Claudette-level — nothing is Claudette-level — but good. Close. The feel was right. The thyme was more.

Derek sat at my table on Father's Day eve and ate jerk chicken that his girlfriend made from his mother's recipe, and his eyes were closed and I watched him eat with his eyes closed and I thought: this is it. This is the man. This is the table. This is the meal. This is the life I'm choosing, not surviving. Choosing. Every day. With every dish. With every seat I add to the table.

The news segment aired Wednesday. Three minutes on the six o'clock news. Kesha's voice over footage of the girls cooking: "In a church kitchen in southwest Atlanta, twenty young women are learning that a meal made by your own hands is an act of power." They showed me. In the green blouse. Talking about Mama. I watched it on my couch with Marcus and Jasmine and Marcus said, "You're famous." I said, "I'm not famous." Jasmine said, "You're on TV." I said, "Three minutes doesn't make you famous." She said, "Grandma would say it does." She's right. Grandma would say it does.

I keep coming back to what it felt like to watch Derek eat that jerk chicken — eyes closed, quiet, home. I can’t share Claudette’s recipe (I was sworn to secrecy, and I mean that), but I can offer you the spirit of it: a summer chicken that asks you to be deliberate, to thread each piece with care, to choose color and sweetness and a little heat all at once. These Rainbow Hawaiian Chicken Kabobs are what I make when I want the table to feel like a celebration — the kind you didn’t have to survive your way into, just decide to have.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus 30 min marinating) | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 can (20 oz) pineapple chunks, drained (reserve 1/4 cup juice)
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 yellow bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 red onion, cut into 1-inch wedges
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup reserved pineapple juice
3 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Wooden or metal skewers

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a medium bowl, whisk together soy sauce, reserved pineapple juice, brown sugar, olive oil, garlic, ginger, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using.
Marinate the chicken. Add chicken cubes to the marinade, toss well to coat, cover, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes or up to 4 hours. If using wooden skewers, soak them in water during this time to prevent burning.
Prep the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan to medium-high heat (about 400°F). Lightly oil the grates.
Assemble the kabobs. Remove chicken from marinade (reserve marinade). Thread chicken cubes, pineapple chunks, bell pepper pieces, and onion wedges alternately onto skewers, creating a repeating pattern of color.
Grill. Place kabobs on the grill and cook 12–15 minutes, turning every 3–4 minutes and brushing with reserved marinade during the first half of cooking. Chicken is done when it reaches an internal temperature of 165°F and has visible char marks.
Rest and serve. Transfer kabobs to a platter, let rest 2–3 minutes, and serve over rice or alongside grilled corn.

Nutrition (per serving)

Rainbow Hawaiian Chicken Kabobs — The Table I’m Choosing