Memorial Day. The last one in the desert. Ryan at the ceremony. Me and the kids in the crowd — Hazel in the carrier, Caleb holding my hand. A family of four at a Memorial Day ceremony on a base we're about to leave.
Caleb asked, 'Why is everyone quiet, Mama?'
'Because they're remembering people who died.'
'People who died in WAR?'
'Yes, baby. In wars.'
'Like what Daddy does?'
The question. The one every military kid asks eventually. The one that makes your stomach drop and your throat close and your hand squeeze tighter.
'Daddy is safe, Caleb. Daddy is right there.' I pointed at Ryan in the formation. 'He's safe.'
'Always?'
'Always.'
A promise I can't keep. But the promise is what he needs. The promise is what every military kid needs — not certainty, because there is no certainty. Just the word. Always. Spoken by a mother who believes it hard enough to make it true.
After the ceremony: barbecue. The last desert barbecue. Ryan's burgers, my potato salad, Elena's green chile cornbread (one last time, with the Hatch chiles from her mother's pantry). Tamara came. Maria came. Beth came. The desert wife community, gathered one last time.
Beth brought her crockpot chicken. My recipe. On the table. At the cookout. The circle.
I wrote a blog post: 'The Last Desert Memorial Day.' About Caleb's question. About 'always.' About the promise that military mothers make to military children, knowing they can't keep it but making it anyway.
'We say "always" because "probably" is not a word you give a child,' I wrote. 'We say "always" because the alternative — the truth, the statistics, the risk — is a weight no three-year-old should carry. So we carry it for them. We carry the fear so they don't have to. And we put dinner on the table at 1800 and we say: your father is safe. Always. And we believe it hard enough to make it feel true.'
Twelve thousand views. Military wives commenting: 'This is the post I needed.' 'My son asked the same thing.' 'We say always too.'
We say always. All of us. In every kitchen. At every base.
The barbecue was the last one. The desert is ending. Three weeks.
Made the pot roast tonight. The last pot roast in the desert. The same pot roast, in a new kitchen soon.
Always the same. Always moving. Always always.
Beth brought this chicken dish to that last desert barbecue because it was my recipe — and seeing it on that table, in that heat, surrounded by the women who had held me together for two years, I remembered why I started making it in the first place: it’s the kind of food that shows up, no matter the kitchen, no matter the base, no matter the season. When I made the pot roast that final night and thought about packing up everything we’d built here, I also thought about this one — because some recipes don’t belong to a place. They belong to the people who keep making them. This is the chicken version of “always.”
Chicken Philly Sandwiches
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, thinly sliced
- 1 green bell pepper, thinly sliced
- 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced
- 8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 4 slices provolone cheese
- 4 hoagie rolls, split and lightly toasted
- Optional: banana pepper rings or hot sauce for serving
Instructions
- Season the chicken. In a bowl, toss the sliced chicken with garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper until evenly coated.
- Cook the vegetables. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the bell pepper, onion, and mushrooms. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until softened and lightly caramelized. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
- Cook the chicken. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil to the same skillet. Add the seasoned chicken in a single layer and cook for 5–6 minutes, flipping once, until cooked through and golden at the edges.
- Combine and melt. Return the vegetables to the skillet and stir everything together over medium heat. Lay the provolone slices over the top of the mixture, cover the skillet with a lid, and let the cheese melt for 1–2 minutes.
- Assemble and serve. Divide the chicken and vegetable mixture evenly among the toasted hoagie rolls. Add banana peppers or hot sauce if desired. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 39g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 41g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 610mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 320 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
