Sour Cream and Sweet Chilli Chicken Burgers

Fire season is approaching again. I can see it in Scott's body language — the restlessness returning, the energy shifting from winter-construction-mode to summer-fire-mode, the way he checks his phone more often, the way his eyes track smoke reports on the news. Last year, fire season meant loneliness and solo parenting and a marriage fraying. This year, fire season means all of that plus the knowledge that I have survived cancer and am not sure I can survive another summer of being functionally single while technically married.

We are not fighting. That's the problem. Fighting would mean we still cared enough to disagree. Instead, we are parallel, polite, coordinated about logistics and absent about everything else. He handles mornings. I handle evenings. We trade off weekends. We communicate through text messages about groceries and pickup schedules and nothing else. We are a well-oiled machine with no heart.

At the clinic, Dr. Pham formally offered me the lead tech position. Sandra is retiring in January, and the job is mine. Better pay, more responsibility, a title that reflects what I've been doing informally for years. I said yes immediately, because saying yes to good things is a habit I am cultivating with the deliberateness of someone who spent six months saying yes to terrible things and needs the balance.

Mason is finishing kindergarten and already reading at a second-grade level. His teacher conference was this week, and Mrs. Liu said, "Mason is one of the most thoughtful students I've ever had. He listens before he speaks. He considers other people's feelings. He will be a remarkable person." I said, "He already is," and Mrs. Liu said, "Yes. He already is." I keep a file of these moments — the things people say about my son when they think I need to hear them and they're right, I do.

Lily's daycare had "career day" — the toddler version, which mostly means they dressed up in hats. Lily wore a cowboy hat and announced she was "a horse doctor," which is either a veterinarian or an equine specialist or a three-year-old's perfect synthesis of everything she loves: horses and her mother's career. Rosa sent me a photo. I set it as my phone wallpaper, replacing Mason's career day photo from last year. My phone wallpaper is always my children in costume, pretending to be something, becoming something. It's the most hopeful gallery in the world.

I made burgers on the grill on Saturday — the first time I've grilled since before the diagnosis. Charcoal, not gas, because this is the Dawson way. Homemade buns, the ones with the butter brush. Thick patties, salt and pepper only, cooked medium. Lettuce, tomato, pickles (Mom's). I stood at the grill with tongs and smoke and the sizzle of beef on hot grates, and I thought: I am standing at a grill making burgers. I am not in a recliner. I am not on a kitchen floor. I am at a grill. I am thirty-three years old and cancer-free and grilling burgers. Life is extraordinary.

Those charcoal burgers on Saturday — the salt-and-pepper patties, the butter-brushed buns, the smoke curling up while I stood there feeling extraordinary — reminded me that grilling is my language for being alive. So here’s another burger worth standing at the grill for: sour cream and sweet chilli chicken burgers that are juicy and bright and a little unexpected, the way good things tend to be when you’ve stopped expecting them. Because once you remember you’re a person who grills, you want to keep grilling.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 27 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb ground chicken
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons sweet chilli sauce, plus more for serving
1/3 cup panko breadcrumbs
2 green onions, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
4 burger buns
Butter, for brushing buns
Lettuce, for serving
Tomato slices, for serving
Extra sour cream, for serving

Instructions

Mix the patties. In a large bowl, combine ground chicken, sour cream, sweet chilli sauce, panko breadcrumbs, green onions, garlic, soy sauce, salt, and pepper. Mix gently until just combined — don’t overwork the meat or the burgers will be tough.
Shape the burgers. Divide the mixture into 4 equal portions and shape into patties about 3/4 inch thick. Press a slight indent into the center of each patty with your thumb to prevent puffing on the grill.
Preheat the grill. Heat your grill to medium-high heat (about 400°F). If using charcoal, wait until coals are ashed over and glowing. Oil the grates lightly.
Grill the patties. Place patties on the grill and cook for 5 to 6 minutes per side, resisting the urge to press them down. Chicken burgers are done when the internal temperature reaches 165°F.
Toast the buns. Brush the cut sides of the buns with butter and place them cut-side down on the grill for 1 to 2 minutes, until golden and lightly charred.
Assemble. Place each patty on a toasted bun. Top with a dollop of sour cream, a drizzle of sweet chilli sauce, lettuce, and tomato. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sour Cream and Sweet Chilli Chicken Burgers — Standing at the Grill Again