First week of summer as a high school graduate and I have done absolutely nothing productive, which I'm told is the whole point of the summer after senior year but which feels wrong when you're an Abernathy. Abernathys don't do nothing. Abernathys do things — productive things, useful things, things that involve early mornings and purpose and dinner at 1800.
Mom keeps asking me if I've 'thought about what I want to do this summer,' which is Mom code for 'get a job.' Dad keeps asking if I've looked at the ODU course catalog, which is Dad code for 'have a plan.' Megan texted me a link to an article called '10 Things Every College Freshman Should Do Before September,' which is Megan code for 'I am your sister and I will manage your life whether you want me to or not.'
I have not gotten a job. I have not looked at the course catalog. I have not done any of the 10 things. What I HAVE done is spend three days at Virginia Beach with Keisha, gone through an entire season of a reality show I'm too embarrassed to name, and eaten my weight in Mom's cooking, which has somehow gotten even better now that she has me home full-time and can use me as a test audience.
This week she tried a new recipe — a shrimp and grits situation that she saw in a magazine and adapted because Donna Abernathy doesn't follow recipes, she negotiates with them. Her version: stone-ground grits cooked in chicken broth with butter and sharp cheddar, topped with shrimp sautéed in bacon fat with garlic, a little white wine, and a squeeze of lemon. The grits were creamy. The shrimp were perfect — curled and pink with that bacon-garlic thing happening that makes you close your eyes when you chew.
Dad said, 'This is restaurant food.' Mom said, 'Better.' She wasn't wrong.
I'm starting to notice something about the way Mom cooks this summer. She's... expanding. For twenty-two years of Navy life, she cooked for survival — budget-friendly, portable, could-be-made-in-any-kitchen, feeds-a-family-on-E-6-pay. Casseroles, crockpot meals, the recipe binder of greatest hits. But now that Dad's retired and they're settled and the grocery budget is a little more flexible, she's trying things. Shrimp and grits. A Thai coconut soup she saw on a cooking show. Homemade pasta that she rolled out by hand with a wine bottle because she doesn't own a pasta roller.
She's discovering what she likes to cook versus what she had to cook, and it's like watching someone take off a uniform they've worn for two decades and put on clothes they actually chose.
I relate to this more than I should, considering I'm eighteen and have never had a real job or a serious responsibility. But I've spent my whole life being what the next school, the next base, the next move needed me to be. What do I actually want? Who am I when nobody's handing me orders?
I don't know yet. But Mom's making shrimp and grits, and she's smiling while she does it, and maybe the answer starts in the kitchen. It usually does.
Mom’s shrimp and grits are hers now — fully negotiated, fully owned — but the spirit behind them isn’t limited to one dish. It’s in anything she makes with butter and lemon and a hot pan, something bright and intentional that she chose because she wanted it, not because it was easy or cheap or portable. This Skillet Lemon Parmesan Chicken and Zucchini is cut from that same cloth: fast enough for a Tuesday, but with a richness and freshness that says someone cooked it because they felt like it. She made a version of this the following week, and Dad said the same thing he always says now. Mom didn’t disagree.
Skillet Lemon Parmesan Chicken and Zucchini
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sliced into 1/2-inch cutlets
- 2 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and cut into 1/2-inch half-moons
- 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- Zest and juice of 1 large lemon
- 1/2 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Season the chicken. Pat chicken cutlets dry with paper towels. Season both sides generously with salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning.
- Sear the chicken. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken in a single layer and cook 4–5 minutes per side until golden brown and cooked through (internal temp 165°F). Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
- Cook the zucchini. Add remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil to the same skillet over medium heat. Add zucchini in a single layer and cook without stirring for 2 minutes to get some color, then toss and cook another 2–3 minutes until just tender. Season with salt and pepper. Push zucchini to the edges of the pan.
- Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium-low. Add butter and minced garlic to the center of the skillet and cook, stirring, for about 1 minute until fragrant and butter is melted. Add lemon zest and lemon juice, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
- Finish together. Return chicken to the skillet and nestle into the zucchini and sauce. Sprinkle Parmesan evenly over the top. Spoon pan sauce over chicken and let everything heat through for 1–2 minutes.
- Serve. Garnish with fresh parsley and an extra shower of Parmesan. Serve directly from the skillet with crusty bread, rice, or pasta to catch the sauce.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 420mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 14 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.