Grilled Pepper Jack Chicken Sandwiches

Late May. Memorial Day weekend, which in a normal year would mean a barbecue or a trip or something that requires other people, and in this year means another weekend in the apartment, which is fine, which is manageable, which is the new normal that I refuse to call normal because normalizing confinement is the first step toward accepting it, and I am not accepting it, I am enduring it, which is different, which is Nakamura, which is the only verb my family knows.

I made yakitori at home — chicken skewers grilled on a cast iron grill pan, brushed with tare sauce (soy, mirin, sugar, reduced to a glaze). The apartment filled with smoke and the smoke alarm went off and Miya covered her ears and Brian opened the windows and for five minutes we were all doing the same thing at the same time — responding to the smoke, dealing with the alarm, being a household — and the unison felt good, the way a chord feels good when it resolves. We are capable of harmony. The harmony requires a crisis. The crisis this time was smoke. The crisis next time will be the divorce. I wonder if we will harmonize for that too.

The blog is at nine thousand readers. I have written more in the last two months than in the previous two years. The pandemic has been catastrophic for my income and miraculous for my writing, because the quarantine stripped away everything except the essential — the cooking, the writing, the child, the grief — and the essential is all I need to make sentences. The essential is all anyone needs. The excess was the marriage, the social obligations, the performance of a life I was not living. The pandemic removed the performance. What remains is the life. The life is smaller than I thought. The life is also better. The life fits.

I received a response from the literary magazine Lin suggested — the one I submitted the "real" miso soup essay to. They want it. Not seventy-five dollars — four hundred. And not just an acceptance but praise: "a stunning meditation on inheritance and loss." Stunning. The word is too large for my apartment, too bright for the gray kitchen, too generous for a woman in pajamas reading her email at six AM while the dashi heats and the child sleeps and the husband drinks and the world burns. But the word is there. The word is mine. I read it three times. I printed the email. I put it in a folder. The folder is the evidence. The evidence says: you are a writer. The evidence says: the words are landing. The evidence says: keep going.

The cast iron pan is still on the stove from the yakitori, and I keep thinking about those five minutes when the smoke alarm went off and we were all, briefly, a household again—responding, moving, present. That unison is harder to manufacture than tare glaze, and I am not going to try. What I can do is keep grilling chicken, keep brushing it with something bold and melty, keep filling the apartment with smoke that means something good is happening. This grilled pepper jack chicken is the weeknight version of that Memorial Day impulse: quick, assertive, the kind of thing that makes everyone lean toward the kitchen before they even know why.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each), pounded to even thickness
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
4 slices pepper jack cheese
4 brioche or ciabatta sandwich buns, split and toasted
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon sriracha or hot sauce (optional)
4 leaves romaine or butter lettuce
1 large tomato, sliced
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced

Instructions

Season the chicken. Pat chicken breasts dry. Brush both sides with olive oil. In a small bowl, combine garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, salt, and pepper; rub evenly over both sides of each breast.
Preheat grill or grill pan. Heat a cast iron grill pan or outdoor grill over medium-high heat until hot, about 2 minutes. Lightly oil the grates or pan.
Grill the chicken. Place chicken on the grill and cook without moving for 6–7 minutes, until grill marks form and the bottom releases easily. Flip and cook another 5–6 minutes, until the internal temperature reaches 165°F.
Melt the cheese. In the last 1–2 minutes of cooking, lay one slice of pepper jack over each breast. Cover the pan with a lid or tent loosely with foil to trap heat and melt the cheese fully.
Make the sauce. Stir together mayonnaise and sriracha (if using) in a small bowl. Spread generously on the cut sides of each toasted bun.
Assemble. Place a cheese-topped chicken breast on each bottom bun. Layer with lettuce, tomato slices, and red onion. Close with the top bun and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Pepper Jack Chicken Sandwiches — When the Smoke Alarm Goes Off and the Harmony Holds