Sweet Chili Chicken Bowl

My strongest conviction — besides the sanctity of butter and that Trader Joe’s frozen dumplings are a personality trait — is that the Sweet Chili Chicken Bowl deserves thunderous applause and possibly a tiny parade. Yes, louder than the neighbor’s leaf blower at 7 a.m. And listen: if you need a reliable, saucy weekday miracle, I have feelings about this one. For the times you’re tired, hungry, and slightly dramatic — like most Tuesdays — this bowl is the answer. Also, when you feel daring, pair it alongside my easy grilled chicken avocado rice bowl for the ultimate “I actually cooked” flex.

How a kitchen catastrophe and Thanksgiving nearly ruined me (but not this recipe)

Once, in the dark era of 2019, I attempted lemon bars for Thanksgiving because yes, I thought butter + citrus = family harmony. Instead: a soggy crust, tears (mine), and my aunt offering store-bought pie with the kind of pity usually reserved for reality TV contestants. Lesson learned: I cannot be trusted with delicate pastries. I can, however, toss things in a skillet and produce joy. Wildly different skill set.

Also one time I flambéed a metaphorical ego. I misread “reduce sauce” as “reduce will to live,” and we ate very plain chicken that night while I sulked. But with sweet chili sauce? No sulking. Only saucy redemption.

Okay fine, let’s get saucy

ANYWAY — before I relive my entire dessert-based shame spiral — here’s the pivot: this bowl is fast, forgiving, and aggressively comforting. It’s not delicate. It’s not trying to be tiny and precious. It’s bold, sticky, and garnished with sesame seeds like it’s ready for its debut.

What you actually need from the store (and my mini grocery tantrum)

• 2 cups cooked rice
• 1 lb chicken breast, diced
• 1/2 cup sweet chili sauce
• 1 bell pepper, sliced
• 1 cup broccoli florets
• 1 carrot, julienned
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Sesame seeds (optional) for garnish
• Green onions (optional) for garnish

If you’re shopping, Trader Joe’s bell peppers make me inexplicably happy, and Aldi’s rice is a steal. Fancy note: you can splurge on a premium chili sauce if you’re pretending it’s date night; I’ll judge you affectionately (and maybe join you). If you’re feeling extra, remember my thing about stuffed chicken — it’s a whole other vibe: that cheesy garlic butter mushroom stuffed chicken taught me the joy of indulgence.

Cooking Unit Converter (yes, because I once confused tbsp and tsp and cried)

If you’re measuring things like a chaotic human (me), this little converter helps you translate the panic into reliable quantities.

Technique, chaos, and what I learned the hard way

I don’t do rigid step-by-steps here; I yammer and wave my hands and then the food somehow behaves. But also — practical truths: don’t crowd the pan (crowding = steaming, sadness), and salt earlier than you think (chicken loves a tiny sprinkle before hitting heat).

1. In a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat.
2. Add the diced chicken and season with salt and pepper. Cook until browned and cooked through, about 5-7 minutes.
3. Add the sliced bell pepper, broccoli, and carrot to the skillet. Sauté for 3-4 minutes until the veggies are tender.
4. Stir in the sweet chili sauce and cook for an additional 2 minutes, ensuring everything is well coated.
5. Serve the sweet chili chicken over cooked rice.
6. Garnish with sesame seeds and sliced green onions if desired.

Also: if you’re like me and sometimes forget the rice, you can switch to a quick-cook grain or even greens (not as comforting but functional). And if you’re tempted to make a gravy because childhood trauma calls, well, there’s excellent comfort in gravy too — see how I paired chicken-and-gravy energy in another recipe I cling to: that classic chicken and gravy recipe.

Why this matters more than a recipe card

Food is how I keep family close when we’re scattered, how I apologize without words (burnt cookies, forgiving hands), and how traditions get passed like secret notes. My mom’s one-pot dinners are the blueprint for my life: pragmatic, warm, slightly messy. Cooking is where nostalgia wears sweatpants and drinks tea. It’s identity, comfort, and a language I speak fluently when words fail.

Tiny anecdote — the one-pan miracle that saved a breakup (not kidding)

A friend once brought this bowl to a post-breakup dinner and — I’m not exaggerating — things normalized. The ex did not return, but the rice did. Healing food works.

Frequently Asked Questions (chaotic, honest, maybe a little extra)

Okay, I’ll stop monologuing. Make the bowl, say something dramatic about how it changed your life, then text me if you need emotional support over soggy crusts. This will not disappoint. Promise.

Daily Calorie Needs Calculator — because curiosity is real

Wondering how this bowl fits your day? Pop your details into the calculator to see where you land.