Two weeks. The apartment is ninety percent boxes. The kitchen is the last standing room — crockpot, cast iron, one pot, one pan, plates for three. The minimum viable kitchen.
I've been writing Chapter Three ('Pendleton') at night, after the packing, after the cooking, after Caleb's asleep. The chapter is about California: the potluck group, Soo-Jin, the blog, the short ribs, the moment I became a writer instead of just someone who writes. It's the chapter where everything changed.
Clara read the first draft and said, 'This is the heart of the book. The Soo-Jin friendship. The recipe exchange. The way food crosses cultures on a military base. This is the chapter people will talk about.'
The chapter people will talk about. About a Korean-American woman who handed me a jar of gochugaru and said 'welcome to the family.'
Caleb is twenty-one months old and has started saying sentences. Not full sentences — toddler sentences, two-word combinations that are either brilliant or terrifying depending on context. 'Mo food.' 'Da-da home.' 'No no no.' (That's a sentence. He uses it often.)
His most-used sentence: 'He'p cook.' Help cook. He pulls his step stool to the counter and says 'He'p cook' and I give him a spoon and something to stir and we stand at the counter together, the way I stood with Mom, and the kitchen shrinks to just the two of us and the food.
Mom's nightly call has a new section: desert prep. She's been researching Twentynine Palms (the woman researches EVERYTHING) and has compiled a list of advice:
1. The oven will be different. Every oven is different. Test it first day.
2. Stock the pantry deep. The commissary is small.
3. Keep ice cream in the freezer. Desert heat requires emergency dessert.
4. Plant nothing outside. The sun will kill it. Grow herbs inside on the windowsill.
5. Call me every night. No exceptions.
Number five. The constant. The one that never changes regardless of duty station.
Made Mom's chicken tortilla soup tonight — the last one in this kitchen, from the crockpot, because the crockpot is the only appliance left. Caleb ate the beans and cheese off the top. Ryan ate two bowls.
Two weeks. The boxes are ready. The crockpot is ready. The recipe binder is in my bag.
Always in my bag.
Mom’s chicken tortilla soup was the send-off — the last thing I made in this kitchen, the taste I’ll carry into the desert. But the crockpot doesn’t pack itself away when the moving truck comes, and somewhere between Pendleton and Twentynine Palms there will be another night where Caleb pulls his step stool to the counter and says “He’p cook” and I need something warm and ready that didn’t require a full kitchen to make. This Crockpot Crack Chicken Pasta is that recipe — creamy, filling, exactly the kind of thing you can set before a long day of unpacking and come home to.
Crockpot Crack Chicken Pasta
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6 hours | Total Time: 6 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
- 1 (8 oz) block cream cheese, cut into cubes
- 1 (1 oz) packet ranch seasoning mix
- 6 strips bacon, cooked and crumbled
- 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 12 oz penne or rotini pasta, cooked al dente
- 1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese, divided
- 2 green onions, sliced (for garnish)
Instructions
- Layer the crockpot. Place the chicken breasts in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker. Pour the chicken broth over the chicken. Sprinkle evenly with ranch seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, and black pepper. Arrange cream cheese cubes on top.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 6–7 hours or HIGH for 3–4 hours, until the chicken is cooked through and shreds easily with a fork.
- Shred the chicken. Use two forks to shred the chicken directly in the crockpot. Stir everything together until the cream cheese is fully incorporated and the sauce is smooth and creamy.
- Add the pasta. Stir in the cooked, drained pasta and half the crumbled bacon. Mix until the pasta is well coated. Add 1 cup of the shredded cheddar and stir until melted.
- Finish and serve. Ladle into bowls and top with remaining cheddar, reserved bacon crumbles, and sliced green onions. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 41g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 780mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 225 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.
