Sweet and Sour Chicken — The Recipe That Carries a Mother’s Legacy Forward

Mother's Day. My fourth. Caleb's handprint card has glitter. EVERYWHERE. The glitter is on the card, on Caleb, on the floor, on the couch, on Ryan's Marine uniform that was hanging in the closet three rooms away. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies — once it enters your home, it never fully leaves. The card says 'I LOVE MAMA' in the handwriting of a daycare teacher with a two-year-old's handprint in red paint. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever received, including the engagement ring and the book deal. Ryan made breakfast: eggs, toast, orange juice. His cooking has improved significantly from the barracks tacos days. He can now make: eggs (three ways), grilled cheese, burgers, burritos, and the breakfast casserole Dad taught him. A repertoire. A real repertoire. 'Happy Mother's Day, Rach.' 'Happy Mother's Day to ME.' I called Mom. The annual call. The one that's been happening every Mother's Day since I was old enough to dial a phone. 'Happy Mother's Day, Mom. From your daughter, your son-in-law, and your grandson who ate broccoli last week.' 'HE ATE IT? Kevin, he ATE the BROCCOLI!' I heard Dad in the background: 'Tell him I'm proud of him. And the tomatoes — tell him about the tomatoes.' The tomatoes have flowers. FLOWERS. Yellow flowers that will become fruit. Dad saw the photo and said, 'You're going to have tomatoes by July. In the DESERT. Rachel, you're growing tomatoes in the desert.' Growing tomatoes in the desert. Raising a child who eats broccoli. Writing a book about kitchens. Everything I'm doing sounds impossible until you do it. Made Mom's fried chicken for Mother's Day dinner. The tradition. Year four. Cast iron. Seasoned flour. The chicken that started every celebration in the Abernathy family and continues in every kitchen I've occupied. Caleb sat at the table in his apron and ate chicken with his hands (utensils are still a suggestion) and said, 'YUM, Mama.' And I sat there, twenty-three years old, in a desert, at a table for three, and I thought: this. This is what Mom felt. Standing at her table, watching her family eat, knowing that she made it. Not just the food. All of it. The home. The warmth. The 1800. I made it. She made me. I made this. Happy Mother's Day, Donna. You made a cook. You made a writer. You made a mother. You made everything.

Mom’s fried chicken has always been the centerpiece of every Abernathy celebration — and this year, standing at my own cast iron skillet in the desert, I wanted something that captured that same golden, crispy magic she gave us. Sweet and Sour Chicken brings those same comfort-food roots into our little table for three: a bright, sticky glaze over tender fried chicken that made Caleb reach for piece after piece with his hands, just like I used to do at Mom’s table. It’s not exactly Donna’s recipe — but it’s fried chicken, it’s celebratory, and it’s ours now too.

Sweet and Sour Chicken

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 cup cornstarch
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil, for frying
• Sweet and Sour Sauce:
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup ketchup
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch mixed with 2 tablespoons cold water (slurry)
• 1 cup pineapple chunks (fresh or canned, drained)
• 1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
• Cooked white rice, for serving
• Sesame seeds and sliced green onions, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Season the chicken. Toss the chicken pieces with salt and pepper in a large bowl until evenly coated.
2. Coat the chicken. Working in batches, dip each piece of chicken into the beaten egg, then dredge in cornstarch, pressing gently so it adheres on all sides.
3. Fry until golden. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet or cast iron pan over medium-high heat. Add the coated chicken in a single layer (do not crowd the pan) and cook for 4–5 minutes per side, until deep golden brown and cooked through. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate and repeat with remaining chicken.
4. Make the sauce. In a small saucepan over medium heat, whisk together the sugar, apple cider vinegar, ketchup, soy sauce, and garlic powder. Bring to a gentle simmer, then stir in the cornstarch slurry. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
5. Cook the vegetables. In the same skillet used for the chicken, add a small drizzle of oil over medium heat. Add the bell peppers and pineapple and cook for 2–3 minutes, just until the peppers are slightly softened but still have some crunch.
6. Combine and glaze. Add the fried chicken back to the skillet with the vegetables. Pour the sweet and sour sauce over everything and toss to coat. Cook for 1–2 minutes until everything is heated through and well glazed.
7. Serve. Spoon over cooked white rice and garnish with sesame seeds and sliced green onions if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 780mg