Sweet and Sour Chicken with Pineapple and Red Onion

The week between Christmas and New Year's is the pause. The inhale. The place where the year holds its breath before exhaling into the next one. 2017 is almost over. The worst year of my life is almost over. The year my mother died. The year I buried her, grieved her, cooked through the absence of her, and came out the other side standing in a kitchen that smells like both of us. The year I lost twelve pounds and gained them back (mostly). The year Marcus won debate trophies and Jasmine turned double digits and Curtis planted tomatoes and I made rolls that were perfect. The year eight girls learned to cook in a church kitchen and one of them said "for Miss Brenda" and I understood that death doesn't end a story — it changes who tells it.

I spent the week between Christmas and New Year's doing nothing productive. Absolutely nothing. I read a novel on the couch. I let the kids watch too much TV. I ate leftovers standing at the refrigerator at midnight. I did not cook a single meal from scratch. I ordered pizza on Wednesday. I ordered Chinese on Friday. Mama would be horrified. I don't care. My kitchen earned a vacation. My hands earned a rest. The stove is off and the house smells like nothing and I am sitting in the silence and it is not grief-silence. It is rest-silence. There is a difference. It took eight months to find it.

Vanessa called New Year's Eve. She and Brian are getting serious — he's met her mother, which in Southern Black dating culture is the equivalent of a congressional confirmation hearing. He passed. Vanessa's mother said, "He's quiet but he has kind eyes." Vanessa asked me, "Do you think it's too soon?" She's been single for three years. I said, "Baby, too soon is what you feel, not what the calendar says." She cried. I cried. We were two women on the phone on New Year's Eve, crying about love and timing and the courage it takes to let someone see you, and it was the best New Year's Eve I've had in years.

I made black-eyed peas at 11:45 PM on December 31st. Just barely before midnight. Mama's recipe. Mama's tradition. Eaten before midnight for luck. I ate them on the couch, alone, the kids asleep, the TV counting down, and I thought: 2018. A new year. A year where Mama has been gone for every day. A year where there are no more "firsts" to survive. Just seconds. Just the ongoing practice of living without her. I can do that. I am doing that. I ate the black-eyed peas and I said, "Happy New Year, Mama," to the empty room, and the empty room said nothing back, and that was okay.

I ordered Chinese on that Friday between Christmas and New Year’s and I don’t regret it—not one bit. But when January 2nd came around and my kitchen was ready to wake back up, this sweet and sour chicken was the first thing I made. Because there’s something about cooking your own version of the thing you ordered during your rest week—it feels like coming home twice. Once to the kitchen, and once to yourself. Mama would’ve approved of this one. She always said homemade beats delivery, and she was right, but sometimes you need the delivery to remind you why.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
1/2 cup cornstarch
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 red onion, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 green bell pepper, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 cup pineapple chunks (fresh or canned, drained)
3/4 cup pineapple juice
1/3 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup ketchup
3 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon cornstarch mixed with 2 tablespoons water (slurry)
1 teaspoon garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
Salt and pepper to taste
Cooked white rice, for serving
Sesame seeds and sliced green onions, for garnish

Instructions

Coat the chicken. Season chicken pieces with salt and pepper, then toss in 1/2 cup cornstarch until evenly coated. Shake off any excess.
Crisp the chicken. Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add chicken in a single layer, working in batches if needed, and cook 3–4 minutes per side until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Cook the vegetables. In the same skillet, add the red onion and bell peppers. Stir-fry for 2–3 minutes until they’re crisp-tender and just starting to soften.
Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the pineapple juice, rice vinegar, ketchup, soy sauce, brown sugar, garlic, and ginger. Pour the sauce into the skillet with the vegetables and bring to a simmer.
Thicken the sauce. Stir the cornstarch slurry and pour it into the simmering sauce. Stir constantly for 1–2 minutes until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
Combine everything. Return the chicken to the skillet and add the pineapple chunks. Toss to coat everything in the sauce. Cook 1–2 minutes more until heated through.
Serve. Spoon over cooked white rice and garnish with sesame seeds and sliced green onions.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet and Sour Chicken with Pineapple and Red Onion — The First Thing I Cooked When the Kitchen Came Back to Life