I got married.
Saturday, March 10th, 2018. Onslow County Courthouse. 10 AM. Sixty-two people. A Spotify playlist. Pulled pork. The best day of my life.
The morning was chaos — the good kind. Keisha and Maddie helped me get ready at the hotel (a Hampton Inn, because we're classy). Mom was in and out, checking the cake, checking the VFW hall, checking everything with the precision of an air traffic controller. Megan did my makeup, which was the most sisterly thing she's done since holding my hand during Kandahar, and she only cried twice.
The dress was perfect. Simple. A-line. Clean lines. Me.
Dad walked me down the 'aisle' — which was, as promised, a walkway he created between rows of folding chairs in the courthouse lobby. He wore his suit and his Navy veteran pin and his face was doing the thing — the blink, the jaw set, the eyes that shine without spilling. He held my arm and walked me toward Ryan and when we got there, he did something he hadn't planned: he shook Ryan's hand, then pulled him into a hug. A real hug. The kind Dad doesn't give. The kind that means more than any words he could say.
Ryan was in his dress blues. I know I'm supposed to describe the ceremony and the vows and the officiant, but honestly? I saw Ryan in his dress blues and the entire world went silent. Everything narrowed to him — this man from Ohio who called me ma'am at a bar and drove four hours for a date and ate crunchy rice casserole and proposed in a park with a $300 ring.
The vows were simple. I do. I do. You may kiss the bride. Ryan kissed me and Torres whooped and Keisha cried and Mom — DONNA ABERNATHY, who does not cry in front of her daughters — cried. Dad put his arm around her. The courthouse lobby erupted in applause.
The reception was everything. The VFW hall was decorated with string lights and navy blue tablecloths. Mom's pulled pork was fall-apart perfect. The potato salad was there. The beans were there. Megan's elaborate goat cheese salad was there and was, as predicted, barely touched. The Budweiser flowed. The Spotify playlist played.
The cake. Mom carried it in herself. Two tiers, red velvet, cream cheese frosting, topped with white and blue flowers that Dad had gotten from — I still don't know where. It was beautiful. Mom set it on the table and stepped back and Ryan and I cut it together and fed each other a bite and it was perfect. THE ONE. The version Mom practiced and perfected and baked at 6 AM with her apron on and her focus complete.
I danced with Dad. He held me and I heard him whisper, so quiet only I could hear: 'I'm proud of you, kiddo. Always have been. Always will be.' The same words from his graduation card. The same certainty. The same period at the end.
We left at 10 PM. Ryan and I. Husband and wife. Same last name, for real this time. We drove to the hotel and I looked out the window at Jacksonville, North Carolina, and thought: this is where I live now. This is my town. My base. My life.
I am Rachel Abernathy, wife of Corporal Ryan Abernathy, USMC.
Dinner will be at 1800.
The pizza at our base housing apartment that night — our first meal as husband and wife — was from Domino's. Not Mom's cooking. Not a recipe card. Just pizza, on the floor of an empty apartment, with a man I love.
It was the best meal I've ever had.
Mom’s pulled pork was the centerpiece of that VFW hall — fall-apart perfect, exactly like she promised — and I have spent the years since trying to bottle that same low-and-slow magic in my own kitchen in Jacksonville. These Slow Cooker Honey Chipotle Stout Enchiladas are the closest I’ve gotten: smoky, a little sweet, deeply savory, and the kind of thing that fills a room with a smell that makes people feel like they’re welcome. I make them now when I want to feel like it’s still that Saturday — string lights up, Budweiser cold, the people I love crowded around a folding table.
Slow Cooker Honey Chipotle Stout Enchiladas
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 7–8 hours (low) | Total Time: 8 hours 20 minutes | Servings: 6–8
Ingredients
- 2 1/2 lbs boneless pork shoulder, trimmed
- 1 bottle (12 oz) stout beer
- 3 tablespoons honey
- 2–3 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, minced (plus 2 tablespoons adobo sauce)
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 cups red enchilada sauce (store-bought or homemade), divided
- 8–10 flour or corn tortillas (8-inch)
- 2 cups shredded Monterey Jack or Mexican blend cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup sour cream, for serving
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped, for serving
- 1 lime, cut into wedges, for serving
Instructions
- Season the pork. In a small bowl, whisk together the honey, minced chipotles, adobo sauce, garlic, smoked paprika, cumin, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Rub the mixture all over the pork shoulder and place it in the slow cooker.
- Add the liquid. Pour the stout beer and 1/2 cup of the enchilada sauce around (not over) the pork. Cover and cook on LOW for 7–8 hours, until the pork shreds easily with a fork.
- Shred the pork. Remove the pork to a cutting board and shred it with two forks, discarding any large pieces of fat. Return the shredded meat to the slow cooker and let it soak in the juices for 10 minutes. Drain off excess liquid, leaving just enough to keep the pork moist.
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Spread 1/2 cup of enchilada sauce evenly across the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish.
- Assemble the enchiladas. Lay a tortilla flat, add a generous scoop of pulled pork and a sprinkle of cheese, roll tightly, and place seam-side down in the baking dish. Repeat with remaining tortillas and filling.
- Top and bake. Pour the remaining enchilada sauce evenly over the rolled enchiladas and scatter the remaining cheese over the top. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling at the edges.
- Serve. Let rest for 5 minutes. Serve topped with sour cream, fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lime.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 890mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 103 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.