Pineapple Teriyaki Chicken

Two weeks until my birthday. I have been doing the math without meaning to, the way you do when a date is approaching and your mind keeps running the numbers. Thirty-five years old. Eleven years married. Five children living. One child not. I used to do this math and it felt like a wound being pressed. Now it feels more like a fact I carry, heavy sometimes, always there, part of the load but not the whole of it. The therapist calls this integration. I call it Tuesday, and I go to the kitchen and make something.

I made Hawaiian haystacks for Sunday prep this week, a Utah classic, the kind of meal that sounds implausible until you eat it and then understand immediately why every LDS family cookbook has three variations. The base: chicken gravy over white rice. The point: the toppings set out in bowls so everyone builds their own plate. Shredded cheese, crushed pineapple, sliced green onions, diced tomatoes, sour cream, chow mein noodles for crunch. Ethan puts everything on. Mason puts cheese and pineapple only, which is not a topping situation but a character situation. Noah puts the chow mein noodles on first, then requests plain rice, then eats the noodles off the top and considers the mission complete. Four bags of chicken gravy base in the freezer. Toppings always fresh, always individual.

School is nearly over and the kids are that particular end-of-year restless where they are too tired to concentrate and too wired to rest. Olivia is finishing a science project on water conservation with the thoroughness of a doctoral student. Ethan has taken to sitting outside after school with a book, which is the most twelve-year-old boy thing I have ever seen. Lily is counting down days on a paper chain she made herself.

Brandon asked what I want for my birthday. I said I want him to take the kids to the park for two hours on Saturday so I can do Sunday prep without anyone underfoot. He said: that is a terrible birthday wish. I said: it is a perfect birthday wish. He conceded. We understand each other.

The pineapple teriyaki chicken is what anchors the whole haystack situation in our house — a little sweet, a little savory, tender enough that it pulls apart without any fuss, and forgiving enough that it holds in the freezer until Sunday rolls around and I need it to do its job. If you’re building your own haystack night, this is the recipe I’d start with: make a big batch, freeze it in portions, and let the toppings take care of the rest.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
1 cup pineapple juice (from a 20 oz can of crushed pineapple, juice reserved)
1/2 cup low-sodium soy sauce
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 tablespoon sesame oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons cold water
Salt and pepper to taste
Cooked white rice, for serving
Suggested toppings: crushed pineapple (reserved from can), shredded cheddar cheese, sliced green onions, diced tomatoes, sour cream, chow mein noodles

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a medium saucepan, whisk together pineapple juice, soy sauce, brown sugar, rice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic, and ginger. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, stirring occasionally, about 3–4 minutes.
Cook the chicken. Season chicken lightly with salt and pepper. Place in a large skillet over medium-high heat with a drizzle of oil. Cook 6–7 minutes per side until cooked through and the internal temperature reads 165°F. Remove from heat and let rest 5 minutes.
Thicken the sauce. Stir cornstarch into cold water until dissolved. Whisk slurry into the simmering sauce and cook 2–3 minutes until thickened and glossy. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Shred and combine. Shred the rested chicken using two forks. Add shredded chicken to the sauce and stir to coat. Simmer on low for 5 minutes to let the chicken absorb the sauce.
Serve haystack-style. Spoon chicken and sauce over bowls of cooked white rice. Set toppings out in individual bowls and let everyone build their own plate.
Freeze for later. To freeze, cool the chicken mixture completely, portion into zip-top freezer bags (about 1.5 cups per bag), press flat, and freeze up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the fridge and reheat gently on the stovetop with a splash of water.

Nutrition (per serving, chicken and sauce only, without rice or toppings)

Pineapple Teriyaki Chicken — Four Bags in the Freezer and Everyone Builds Their Own Plate