Mother's Day. Two mothers to honor, eight hundred miles apart.
Lisa first. The kids and I made breakfast — scrambled eggs with green chile (Diego's job, supervised), toast (Sofia's job, unsupervised, competent), and what the twins contributed, which was enthusiasm and a handprint card that was mostly glitter and partly legible. Lisa sat at the kitchen table in her scrubs — she had a noon shift at Denver Health — and ate her eggs and drank her coffee and looked at us with the expression she gets when she's memorizing something. She works twelve-hour shifts in an ER where people come in broken and she puts them back together, and then she comes home and does the same thing for us, and the fact that she does all of it without ever once making it look like a sacrifice is either the most impressive or the most infuriating thing about her. I tell her she's the toughest person I know. She says, "I know." She's not wrong.
Then I called Gloria. She doesn't want presents. She doesn't want flowers. She wants me to call and she wants to hear the kids' voices, so I put each one on the phone. Diego said, "Happy Mother's Day, Abuela," like a gentleman. Sofia recited a poem she'd memorized. Marco yelled, "ABUELA!" at maximum volume and then hung up. Elena whispered something nobody could hear. Gloria said, "My babies," and her voice did the thing it does when she's trying not to cry, and I stood in the kitchen holding the phone and felt the distance like a fist in my chest.
Gloria is seventy-three and she's still the strongest woman I know, after Lisa. She raised five of us in a house that smelled like green chile and sounded like a boxing gym, she worked the cafeteria at Las Cruces High for twenty-eight years, and she held that family together through everything — Hector's long shifts, the lean months, my brother's deployments, all of it. She held it together and she fed us, every night, no exceptions. That's the job. You feed your people.
I grilled chicken thighs for dinner — marinated in lime, cumin, garlic, and adobo — with a green chile crema on the side. Sour cream, roasted green chile, a squeeze of lime, pinch of salt. Took five minutes. Made the chicken twice as good. Diego ate his plain because he's in a phase. Sofia ate hers with extra crema. The twins ate rice. Lisa came home at midnight and I'd left her a plate wrapped in foil on the counter. She texted me a heart emoji from the kitchen. That's how we do Mother's Day. Feed your people. The game is won at the table.
The green chile crema I made that night came together in five minutes, but the chicken — the marinade, the fire, the waiting — that part felt deliberate, like it was supposed to. Gloria raised us on the idea that the table is where you prove yourself, and Lisa holds that same standard without ever saying it out loud. So when I grill, I want something with heat and smoke and a crust that means business. These Bourbon Spice Grilled Chicken Wings are the closest thing in my rotation to that feeling: bold enough to honor the women who taught me that love is a verb you conjugate at the stove.
Bourbon Spice Grilled Chicken Wings
Prep Time: 15 min (plus 1 hr marinating) | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min active | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 1/2 lbs chicken wings, split at the joint, tips removed
- 1/4 cup bourbon
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon onion powder
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
- Juice of 1/2 lime
Instructions
- Make the marinade. In a large bowl, whisk together the bourbon, olive oil, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, lime juice, smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, cayenne, salt, and black pepper until the sugar dissolves and everything is well combined.
- Marinate the wings. Add the chicken wings to the bowl and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to 8 hours for deeper flavor. Remove from the fridge 20 minutes before grilling.
- Preheat the grill. Heat a gas or charcoal grill to medium-high heat (about 400°F). Clean and lightly oil the grates to prevent sticking.
- Grill the wings. Arrange the wings in a single layer on the grill. Cook for 10–12 minutes per side, turning once, until the skin is charred at the edges and the internal temperature reads 165°F on an instant-read thermometer. Watch for flare-ups from the bourbon marinade — move wings to a cooler zone if needed.
- Rest and serve. Transfer wings to a cutting board and let rest for 5 minutes before plating. Serve hot with green chile crema, extra lime wedges, or your sauce of choice alongside.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 610mg