Sweet, savory, satisfying—and only mildly chaotic to make.
So you want dinner that tastes like effort but doesn’t require effort? You’re in the right place.
Picture this: you’re hungry, craving something cozy, slightly sweet, and possibly dripping in sauce—but you also don’t want to drop $18 on takeout again. Enter the Teriyaki Chicken Rice Bowl, aka the saucy, steamy comfort food you didn’t know you could whip up in under 30 minutes.
This isn’t one of those recipes that needs a wok the size of a car tire or ingredients you can only find in a Tokyo back alley. It’s simple, quick, and honestly? Kinda addictive.
Let’s get to it before you end up eating chips over the sink again.
Why This Recipe is Awesome
It’s idiot-proof. I mean, I made it, and nothing caught fire—so you’re already ahead.
One pan + one pot. Minimal dishes, maximum flavor. It’s science.
The sauce is homemade, but it’s not scary. You’re not making a reduction. You’re just mixing things and pouring it over chicken like a boss.
It’s meal-prep friendly. Make a big batch and suddenly, you’re that organized person with a week’s worth of lunches. Look at you!
Customizable. Hate broccoli? Sub it. Want extra spice? Go wild. Live your truth.
Ingredients You’ll Need
Let’s keep it real: no one likes scrolling past 40 paragraphs just to realize they don’t have mirin. Here’s the lowdown:
For the chicken:
- 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs or breasts – Thighs = juicier. Breasts = leaner. Pick your fighter.
- Salt + pepper – Because we’re not heathens.
- 1 tbsp oil – Sesame oil is fab. Olive or veggie oil works too.
For the teriyaki sauce:
- ¼ cup soy sauce – Low-sodium if you’re feeling responsible.
- 2 tbsp brown sugar or honey – Sweetness = happiness.
- 1 tbsp rice vinegar – Balances the sweet with a little tang.
- 1 tbsp mirin (optional) – Extra depth. Skip it if your grocery store let you down.
- 2 cloves garlic, minced – Or spoon some from a jar. We all have lives.
- 1 tsp grated ginger – Optional, but makes you feel fancy.
- 1 tsp cornstarch + 2 tbsp water – To thicken that sauce to glossy perfection.
For the bowl:
- Cooked rice – White, brown, jasmine, sushi rice… just not the crunchy kind you forgot about on the stove.
- Steamed or sautéed veggies – Think broccoli, bell peppers, carrots, edamame.
- Optional toppings: sesame seeds, green onions, sriracha drizzle (for chaos), avocado slices (for Instagram).
Step-by-Step Instructions
- Cook the rice. Do this first. Trust me, nothing’s worse than a beautiful bowl of teriyaki chicken… and no rice.
- Season and cook the chicken. Salt and pepper it. Sear in a hot pan with oil until golden and cooked through (about 5-6 minutes per side). Remove from pan and let it rest.
- Make the sauce. In the same pan, toss in soy sauce, brown sugar, rice vinegar, garlic, and ginger. Simmer for 2–3 minutes.
- Thicken the sauce. Mix cornstarch and water in a tiny bowl (or shot glass, no judgment), then add to the sauce. Stir until thick and glossy.
- Slice the chicken and toss it in the sauce. Coat every piece like it’s a spa treatment. Let it soak up the flavor.
- Assemble your bowl. Rice on bottom, veggies and chicken on top. Drizzle leftover sauce like you’re in a cooking show. Add toppings if you’re feeling extra.
Alternatives & Substitutions
No chicken? Use tofu, shrimp, or even mushrooms. Honestly, that sauce makes anything taste amazing.
No rice? Quinoa, cauliflower rice, or soba noodles all work. But rice is bae.
Low-sugar version? Cut the sugar in half or use monk fruit sweetener if you’re into that sort of thing.
Gluten-free? Sub tamari or coconut aminos for soy sauce. You got this.
No cornstarch? Try arrowroot powder or just simmer the sauce longer. Or live with thinner sauce—it’s still delish.
Final Thoughts
There you have it—a teriyaki chicken rice bowl that tastes like takeout but makes you feel like a domestic god(ess). It’s quick, it’s customizable, and it somehow hits every craving all at once.
So what are you waiting for? Whip this up, dump it in a bowl, and eat it while watching reality TV with zero shame. Or serve it to someone and pretend you slaved over it. No one has to know.
Cheers to lazy cooking