Spicy Shredded Chicken

Father's Day in a pandemic. The fifth Father's Day, and the first one I cannot spend with my father. The first one where I cannot go to Maryvale and stand at the cinder block grill and hand Roberto a plate and tell him he is the greatest man I know. The distance is six miles and it might as well be six thousand.

Jessica and the kids did their best. Sofia made me a card with a drawing of the whole family at the grill — me, Jessica, Sofia, Diego, Roberto, Elena — and underneath she wrote: "We will all cook together again soon." The optimism of a six-year-old. The faith. The absolute conviction that soon is a real place and not just a hope. I want to live in Sofia's soon.

Diego gave me a stick. Another stick. The second birthday-adjacent stick from my son, offered with the same gravity as the first. I keep both sticks. They sit on my desk at the station next to a framed photo of the family. Two sticks and a photo. The artifacts of a father's life.

I FaceTimed Roberto at noon — the cookout hour, the sacred hour when we would normally be side by side at the grills, smoke rising, Elena making guacamole, kids running. Roberto was in the backyard. He had fired up the cinder block grill. He was standing at it, alone, grilling chicken (the chile-lime chicken, my recipe from the diabetes notebook), and he was wearing his apron and holding his tongs and looking at the camera with an expression that broke me.

"Happy Father's Day, mijo," he said. "I am grilling." He held up the chicken. "Your recipe." My recipe. On his grill. The student's food on the teacher's fire. I held up my phone so he could see my backyard — I was grilling too, the same chicken, because I had planned to cook the same thing without knowing he would too. Father and son, six miles apart, grilling the same chicken, on the same day, under the same desert sun.

"The grill is not cold anymore, Dad," I said. He smiled. "It was never cold, mijo. I just was not standing at it." And then he flipped the chicken and the smoke rose and for one moment, through the screen, through the distance, through the pandemic that has taken so much from so many, we were together. Standing at the fire. Cooking. Showing up.

I cried after I hung up. In the garage, alone, with the door closed. Then I went back to the grill and finished the chicken and fed my family and called my father a second time and said, "The chicken was perfect, Dad." He said, "Of course it was. It is your recipe."

This is the recipe — the one from the notebook, the one my father stood over alone at his cinder block grill while I stood over mine, six miles away, neither of us knowing the other had chosen it until we were already deep in the smoke. I developed it years ago when Roberto was managing his diabetes and we were both learning that food could be medicine and love at the same time. It is spicy and bright and it tastes like Maryvale in the summer, like the sound of kids running and Elena laughing and my father flipping tongs in the air to show off. If you have someone you cannot be with right now, cook this for them anyway — fire up whatever grill you have, put this chicken on it, and let the smoke do the work distance cannot.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
1 tablespoon lime zest
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons ancho chile powder
1 teaspoon chipotle chile powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional, for extra heat)
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
Fresh cilantro and lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a large bowl, whisk together the lime juice, lime zest, olive oil, garlic, ancho chile powder, chipotle chile powder, smoked paprika, cumin, oregano, salt, pepper, and cayenne if using. Reserve 2 tablespoons of the marinade separately for finishing.
Marinate the chicken. Add the chicken thighs to the bowl and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or up to 8 hours for deeper flavor.
Grill or sear. Heat a grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Cook chicken thighs 5–6 minutes per side, until cooked through and charred at the edges. An instant-read thermometer should read 165°F at the thickest part.
Rest and shred. Transfer chicken to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes. Using two forks, shred the meat into rough, generous pieces — not too fine; you want texture.
Finish in the pan. Return shredded chicken to a skillet over medium heat. Pour in the chicken broth and the reserved marinade. Toss and cook 3–4 minutes until the liquid reduces and coats the chicken in a glossy, spicy sauce.
Serve. Pile onto a platter and scatter fresh cilantro over the top. Serve with warm tortillas, rice, or alongside grilled vegetables, with plenty of lime wedges on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spicy Shredded Chicken — The Recipe That Crossed Six Miles