By October 2020. I turned twenty-two this week. October third. I have a celebration in mind and the celebration is this: I invited Gloria and James to Birmingham. They drove up on Saturday, James driving, which he does now at his own careful pace, and I made the full Sunday dinner in my apartment kitchen. Everything from scratch. Fried chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread in the cast iron skillet Gloria gave me, banana pudding I had made the night before.
They arrived at noon and I let them in and showed them the apartment. James stood in the kitchen doorway and looked at the herbs on the windowsill, the cast iron skillets on the stove, the jars of preserves lined up on the counter, the composition notebook open to a recipe. He did not say anything for a moment. Then he said: well. Just well. But the weight of that well was considerable.
We cooked together in my kitchen, the three of us, which had never happened before. Their Sunday kitchen had always been the place we cooked. This was mine. Gloria knew where I kept things because I keep things the same way she does. She said: you organized the kitchen the way I taught you. I said: I did not notice I was doing that. She said: I know. That is the point.
We ate at my kitchen table. James said grace. He included my Birmingham kitchen in the grace, which is the kind of thing that makes me have to look at my plate. Afterward he said: this is the best fried chicken I have had in a year. She said: that is your chicken. He said: no, it is hers now. She said: yes. It is hers now.
The fried chicken that day belongs to the story — to James’s well, to Gloria’s quiet nod, to a kitchen that finally felt like mine. But every cook needs a recipe she reaches for when a meal has to carry weight without taking all day, something bright and a little unexpected that still says this table matters. This Strawberry Balsamic Chicken is that recipe for me now: the sweetness of the fruit against the deep pull of the vinegar reminds me that the best food holds two things at once, just like that afternoon did.
Strawberry Balsamic Chicken
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each), pounded to even thickness
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 1 1/2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
- 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/4 teaspoon dried)
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- Fresh basil, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Season the chicken. Pat chicken breasts dry with paper towels. Season both sides with 1/2 teaspoon salt, the black pepper, and smoked paprika.
- Sear the chicken. Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add chicken and sear undisturbed for 6–7 minutes per side, until golden brown and the internal temperature reaches 165°F. Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
- Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add remaining 1/2 tablespoon olive oil to the same skillet. Add garlic and cook 30 seconds until fragrant, scraping up any browned bits. Pour in balsamic vinegar and honey, stirring to combine. Let it bubble and reduce for 2 minutes.
- Add the strawberries. Stir in strawberries, thyme, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt. Cook 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until strawberries have softened and the sauce has thickened enough to coat a spoon.
- Finish and serve. Remove from heat and swirl in butter until melted and glossy. Return chicken to the skillet and spoon sauce over each piece. Garnish with fresh basil if using. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 37g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 390mg