The book is at 70,000 words. Seven chapters out of twelve. Over halfway. The manuscript is due in April, which means I have seven months to write five more chapters. Doable, if Caleb's daycare holds and the desert doesn't kill me.
Chapter Four (Twentynine Palms) is done. Clara read it and called me: 'This is the funniest chapter in the book. The three square feet. The oven that runs hot. The baby pool cookout. You've turned the worst duty station in America into the most entertaining chapter.'
Humor. The military wife survival tool. If you can laugh about it, you can survive it. If you can write about it, you can outlast it.
Caleb is two in November. Almost two. He's talking in three-word sentences now: 'He'p cook, Mama.' 'Mo food, pease.' 'Da-da home yay!' His vocabulary is expanding daily and his favorite topic is food. He names foods when he sees them: 'NANA' (banana), 'CHEE' (cheese), 'WAWA' (watermelon). He is, at twenty-three months, a person who identifies the world through what can be eaten. An Abernathy through and through.
I started Chapter Five this week: 'The Blog.' The chapter about starting to write, about the deployment cooking series, about the pandemic, about the moment everything changed. It's a meta-chapter — writing about writing in a book about cooking. Recursive. Clara says, 'Lean into it. The writing is part of the food story. They're inseparable.'
The writing IS the food story. That's the thesis of the whole book: food and story are the same thing. You cook to nourish. You write to preserve. Both are acts of care. Both are ways of saying 'I was here. This is what I made. This is who I fed.'
Mom's binder. My blog. The book. All the same gesture: here. I made this. Eat.
Made Mom's chili tonight. The one with cocoa powder. In the desert, in September, when the temperature has dropped to a merciful 98 degrees and chili feels possible again.
Caleb ate a bowl. His first full bowl of chili. No rice, no crackers — just chili, with a spoon, like a person. He ate the whole thing and said, 'MO.'
That's my boy. More. Always more.
Seventy thousand words. Five chapters to go. A toddler who eats chili.
The book is coming. The book is almost here.
Caleb’s first full bowl of chili — no crackers, no rice, just chili and a spoon and an absolute conviction that more was necessary — felt like a milestone worth celebrating. Mom’s chili with cocoa powder will always be the gold standard in this house, but on the nights when the manuscript is open and dinner needs to happen fast, this Chili Cheese Dog Casserole carries that same warm, stick-to-your-ribs energy in about half the time. It’s the kind of meal that tastes like someone cared, even when someone is also 70,000 words deep into a book and running on toddler-fueled adrenaline.
Chili Cheese Dog Casserole
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 package (8.5 oz) corn muffin mix
- 1 egg
- 1/3 cup milk
- 1 can (15 oz) chili with beans
- 8 beef hot dogs, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
- 1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese, divided
- 1/4 cup diced yellow onion
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Sour cream and sliced green onions, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Mix the cornbread batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the corn muffin mix, egg, and milk until just combined — a few lumps are fine. Do not overmix.
- Build the chili layer. In a separate bowl, stir together the chili, sliced hot dogs, diced onion, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Fold in 3/4 cup of the shredded cheddar cheese.
- Assemble the casserole. Pour the cornbread batter evenly into the prepared baking dish. Spoon the chili and hot dog mixture over the top, spreading it gently to within about 1/2 inch of the edges.
- Add cheese and bake. Sprinkle the remaining 3/4 cup of cheddar over the top. Bake uncovered for 28—32 minutes, until the cornbread is cooked through and the cheese is golden and bubbling.
- Rest and serve. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before cutting. Serve with sour cream and green onions if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 20g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 1180mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 234 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.
