Honey Pepper Chicken Panini lands hot in your hand in about 35 minutes, and that’s counting the bit where I stand over the pan doing nothing useful. Four sandwiches. One skillet, one press.
Honey turns tacky under the spoon. Pepper doesn’t back down, and once the press comes down you can hear the crust crackle under it, which is the bit I wait for every single time I make these.
And for nearly two years I handed over £4.85 at the coffee place by the bus station, twice most Fridays. Worked it out on an envelope one night in March and it is a stupid amount of money for bread. Then they switched supplier. Grey chicken. Right through the middle.
So I stopped.
Under £1.30 a portion now. Want to know the actual difference? Pepper. Theirs was shy with it and mine isn’t, and once you’ve had it heavy handed the shy version tastes like someone forgot the last step of the recipe.
What Goes In My Honey Pepper Chicken Panini
The chicken side
- Chicken breast. Thinness does the work. Cut each breast flat into two. Do it before heat touches it. Nothing thicker than my thumb. I stopped trusting that years ago.
- Black pepper. Grind it fresh, and yes I mean fresh, not the grey dust in the tub.
- Honey. Any runny one will do (I buy the squeezy Rowse bottle and nothing else).
- Soy sauce. Tamari swaps in straight. Same volume. My sister keeps a bottle just for this.
Bread and cheese
- Ciabatta rolls. Sourdough slices work too.
- Provolone. I tried mozzarella once and the sandwich slid apart on the counter, water everywhere. Cheddar behaves. For dairy free, oat-based slices melt slower, so give them roughly 90 seconds more under the lid.
- Butter. But mayonnaise on the outside faces gives you a thinner crust, if that’s what you’re after.
Everyone says marinate the chicken in honey first.
I don’t, because the sugar goes black before the middle is anywhere close to cooked and then you’re scraping a pan you never needed to scrape. Actually, no, not black. Bitter, which is worse.
Step By Step
Step 1: Slice. Lay each chicken breast flat on the board. Cut through the side into two thin pieces, about 1 cm (just under half an inch) thick. Four flat pieces from 1 lb (450 g).
Step 2: Season. Salt both faces. Then 1 tsp cracked black pepper, pressed in with the flat of the knife.
Step 3: Mix. Stir ¼ cup honey (85 g) with 2 tbsp soy sauce (30 ml) in a small bowl. One garlic clove, minced, goes in. Another ½ tsp pepper.
Step 4: Sear. Heat 1 tbsp (15 ml) oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high. Chicken in, flat. 5 to 6 minutes a side, until a thermometer reads 165°F (74°C) at the thickest part.
Step 5: Glaze. Drop the heat to low. Then pour the honey mixture over the chicken. Turn the pieces twice across about 2 minutes, until the sauce clings and the pan edges go tacky and dark at the rim.
Step 6: Butter. Split 4 ciabatta rolls. Butter the outside faces only, and I do mean only, because the first time I greased the insides the cheese slid around like it was on ice. Bare insides.
Step 7: Build. Provolone on each bottom half. Chicken next. Spoon the last of the pan sauce over. Cheese on top as well. It’s glue. Second slice goes on.
Step 8: Press. Preheat the press to 375°F (190°C) and close it on the sandwiches for 4 to 5 minutes. Mine has never sealed the ridges properly before five and a half. Rest 2 minutes, then cut on the diagonal.
Thicker, In a Skillet, No Press
Build it the same way. Then into a dry skillet over medium. Weigh the whole thing down with a pot wrapped in foil. Three minutes a side at 350°F (175°C) equivalent heat, flipping once. What you get is flatter with more chew to it, and I prefer that one, though I’ll admit the press version looks better in a photograph.
On the Go Version
Standing up to eating, this runs 35 minutes flat.
Night before? Yes. Cook the chicken. Glaze it. Chill it flat, not stacked. “Why is it in a jumper?” my son asked about the foil, which is fair. Morning assembly runs four minutes before the school run.
Foil while it’s hot. It’ll hold warm about 40 minutes in a bag. From cold, 3 minutes in the press, or a 350°F (175°C) oven for 8. “Tastes like wet napkin,” someone told me, after microwaving one. Don’t.
Tortillas. My chicken sausage breakfast wraps will ride around in a bag all morning and come out fine, because soft bread shrugs off steam and a pressed crust absolutely does not. So eat this one within the hour.
Freezing a Honey Pepper Chicken Panini
Freeze the chicken. Not the sandwich, and I say that as someone who filled a whole drawer with assembled ones in November and then ate every single sad brick of it rather than admit the waste.
Glazed chicken, cooled, laid flat in a bag. It keeps for 3 months. Fridge, it keeps for up to 3 days. Thaw overnight. Two minutes in a dry pan and you’ll hear it tick and hiss before it ever meets cheese.
Two of them I froze assembled, and the bread never recovered. The glaze weeps down into the bottom crust. What thaws is chalky. Full stop.
Chicken only. My freezer drawer still smells faintly of honey.
Equipment I Actually Use
- Cast iron skillet. 10 inch (25 cm). The only pan I reach for.
- A press. Mine is a cheap Tefal with one dead indicator light. Bought in 2019. Still fine.
- Thermometer.
- Small bowl and a spoon. The glaze needs stirring once and that’s it. No whisk. Nothing else to wash up afterwards (this matters at 6am).
- Do you actually need the press? No.
I also own a double-sided grill pan that I bought for £22 and have used exactly twice, which still annoys me every time I open that cupboard and see it sitting there.
Terrible purchase.
So it lives behind the roasting tins. My skillet breakfast hash uses the cast iron instead.
Honey Pepper Chicken Panini in 35 Minutes
Course: Uncategorized4
servings15
minutes20
minutes562
kcalMy Honey Pepper Chicken Panini is a pressed breakfast sandwich on ciabatta, with thin chicken in a sticky honey, soy and black pepper glaze and provolone melted on both faces. The crust comes out dark along the press ridges and pale in the valleys. Start to finish it’s 35 minutes, and it makes four. Good for anyone who wants a proper hot breakfast without standing at the hob for an hour.
Ingredients
1 lb (450 g) boneless skinless chicken breast, about 2 breasts
1 tsp cracked black pepper, plus ½ tsp for the glaze
½ tsp fine salt
1 tbsp (15 ml) olive oil
¼ cup (85 g) runny honey
2 tbsp (30 ml) soy sauce
1 garlic clove, minced
4 ciabatta rolls
8 slices provolone (about 6 oz / 170 g)
2 tbsp (28 g) softened butter
Directions
- Lay each chicken breast flat and cut horizontally into two thin pieces, about 1 cm thick. You want 4 flat pieces.
- Season both sides with the salt and 1 tsp cracked black pepper.
- Stir the honey, soy sauce, minced garlic and remaining ½ tsp pepper together in a small bowl.
- Heat the oil in a heavy 10 inch (25 cm) skillet over medium-high. Cook the chicken 5 to 6 minutes per side, until it reads 165°F (74°C) at the thickest point.
- Reduce the heat to low. Pour the honey mixture into the pan. Turn the chicken twice over about 2 minutes, until the glaze clings to the meat.
- Split the ciabatta rolls and butter the outside faces only.
- Place a slice of provolone on each bottom half. Add the glazed chicken, spoon over the remaining pan sauce, then top with a second slice of provolone and the lid.
- Preheat a panini press to 375°F (190°C). Press each sandwich 4 to 5 minutes, until the cheese runs at the edges and the ridges brand dark.
- Rest 2 minutes, then cut on the diagonal and serve.
Sweet or Savoury
Add what you like from here. The press lid comes down with a flat wet crunch, the sound of bread giving up, and honestly a sandwich you’ve already paid for twice over in shop money has earned the right to be exactly yours. Your sandwich.
- Hot honey. Swap 1 tbsp of the honey for hot honey, or add ½ tsp chilli flakes to the glaze.
- Maple. Same quantity, 85 g, and it goes thinner in the pan.
- Bacon. Two rashers a sandwich, crisped in the same skillet before anything else goes in, and I mean properly crisped, not that floppy middle ground. You want noise. Loud from the second it hits.
- Sharp apple. Six thin slices of Granny Smith, tucked under the top cheese (my husband thought I’d lost it). Sounds wrong. Isn’t.
But back to the pepper, because I said it badly earlier. One teaspoon isn’t seasoning here. It’s a component. Go under and you’ve made a honey sandwich, nothing more. Try my maple pepper breakfast toast or the garlic butter egg muffins for the sweet-savoury thing without dragging the press out.
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