August approaches and with it the one-year anniversary of our arrival at Twentynine Palms. One year in the desert. One year of 110-degree days and sad produce and three square feet and the oven that runs hot. One year that was supposed to be the worst duty station of my life and that turned out to be — I cannot believe I'm writing this — formative.
The desert formed me. Not in a 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' way — that's a cliché and I'm a writer. In a 'constraints create the best food' way. The desert stripped away every convenience and left me with the basics: rice, beans, canned goods, the crockpot, the cast iron, and the recipe binder. And from those basics, I built a book. I built a blog. I built a community. I built enchiladas that changed my life.
I've been writing a reflection post for the blog: 'One Year in the Desert: What Twentynine Palms Taught Me About Cooking (and Everything Else).' The post is a love letter to the worst place I've ever lived, which sounds like a contradiction but isn't, because love and difficulty are not mutually exclusive. Ask any military wife. Ask any mother. Ask anyone who has ever made dinner at 1800 when they'd rather be asleep.
Caleb is two and nine months and has officially entered the 'I do it myself' phase, which applies to everything: dressing ('I do it myself!'), eating ('I do it myself!'), and, most alarmingly, cooking ('I DO IT MYSELF, MAMA!'). He wants to crack eggs. He wants to stir hot things. He wants to use the REAL knife. He is a liability in the kitchen and also the best thing in it.
I let him crack an egg this week. Into a bowl. While I held his hands. The egg mostly made it into the bowl. The rest went on the counter, his apron, and the floor. He looked at the bowl and said, 'I DID IT!' with the triumph of a man who has conquered Everest.
He did it. He cracked an egg. At two.
Mom cracked her first egg at three. I cracked mine at four. Caleb is ahead of schedule. The Abernathy kitchen timeline is accelerating.
Made Mom's chicken and rice casserole tonight — the anniversary dinner. One year in the desert. The same recipe I made the first night at Lejeune, the first night at Pendleton, the first night here. The recipe that goes first. The recipe that says: we're home.
One year in the desert. The casserole is home. The oven runs hot. The tomatoes are red.
We survived. We always survive.
But I wouldn't mind surviving somewhere with more counter space.
This is the casserole I make first — the one that has opened every new chapter, every new base, every new kitchen with a too-hot oven and not enough counter space. It’s warm and filling and forgiving, which is exactly what you need at the end of a year that asked everything of you and gave back more than you expected. I made it tonight for our one-year desert anniversary, with Caleb in his egg-stained apron beside me insisting he stir it himself, and it tasted exactly like arriving and exactly like surviving.
Thai Chicken Casserole
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces
- 2 cups long-grain white rice, uncooked
- 1 can (13.5 oz) coconut milk
- 1 1/2 cups chicken broth
- 3 tablespoons peanut butter (creamy)
- 2 tablespoons soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon red curry paste
- 1 tablespoon lime juice
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup frozen peas or edamame
- 1/4 cup shredded carrots
- 2 green onions, sliced (for topping)
- 2 tablespoons chopped peanuts (for topping)
- Fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Preheat your oven to 375°F (or 350°F if your oven runs hot — you know who you are).
- Make the sauce. In a large bowl, whisk together the coconut milk, chicken broth, peanut butter, soy sauce, red curry paste, lime juice, garlic powder, and ground ginger until smooth and combined.
- Assemble the casserole. Spread the uncooked rice evenly in a greased 9x13-inch baking dish. Scatter the chicken pieces over the rice, then pour the sauce mixture evenly over the top. Add the peas and shredded carrots and stir gently to distribute.
- Cover and bake. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 40–45 minutes, until the rice is tender and has absorbed the liquid and the chicken is cooked through.
- Check for doneness. Remove the foil and check that the rice is fully cooked. If any liquid remains, return to the oven uncovered for 5 minutes.
- Top and serve. Sprinkle with sliced green onions, chopped peanuts, and fresh cilantro if using. Serve straight from the dish.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 278 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.