1/3 cup Dijon mustard (substitute with whole grain mustard for texture)
1/4 cup honey (wildflower honey adds a nice depth)
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar (can substitute with white wine vinegar)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon smoked paprika (optional, but it adds a lovely warmth)
1/2 teaspoon salt (or to taste)
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil or melted butter (for cooking)
Fresh thyme or rosemary sprigs for garnish (optional, but I swear by fresh herbs)
Instructions
Start by preheating your oven to 400°F (200°C). This temperature helps the chicken cook evenly while giving the sauce a chance to thicken beautifully.
In a small bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard, honey, apple cider vinegar, minced garlic, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper until smooth and well combined. I like to think of this as mixing up a little pot of magic, much like Mama Lu would when she stirred her cornbread batter without measuring, just a pinch of this and a splash of that.
Heat the olive oil or melted butter in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. When the pan is hot, add the chicken breasts. Sear each side for about 3-4 minutes until they develop a golden crust. This step locks in the juices and reminds me of the satisfying sizzle sound from Mama Lu’s cast iron skillet.
Pour the honey mustard sauce over the chicken breasts, turning them gently to coat. The sauce should bubble and thicken slightly as it warms—just like the sticky blackberry jam bubbling on the stove back home.
Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven and bake for 15-18 minutes, or until the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 165°F (74°C). If you don’t have a thermometer, poke the thickest part of the breast; it should feel firm but not hard.
Once cooked, remove the skillet from the oven and let the chicken rest for 5 minutes. This pause lets the juices redistribute, ensuring every bite is tender and juicy.
Before serving, sprinkle fresh thyme or rosemary over the top if you’ve got it on hand. The aroma alone brings back memories of summer gardens on the farm, where herbs grew wild near the kitchen door.