Week one of deployment. Mom left yesterday. She stayed ten days — longer than the two weeks she'd planned, because time works differently in military wife math where two weeks means 'until I'm sure my daughter won't collapse.'
The goodbye with Mom was harder than the goodbye with Ryan. I know that's a terrible thing to say, but it's true. When Ryan left, I had adrenaline and stoicism and the performance of okayness. When Mom left, I had nothing. She hugged me in the parking lot and I clung to her like a child and she said, 'I'll call tonight. I'll call every night. You eat dinner at 1800.' And then she got in the car and drove away and I stood in the parking lot for the second time in ten days watching someone I love disappear.
The apartment is empty in a way I've never experienced. Not empty of furniture — it's full of our things, Ryan's and mine. Empty of people. Empty of voices and footsteps and the sound of someone else breathing. I come home from the commissary and open the door and the silence is a physical thing, like walking into water.
Mom called at 7 PM. True to her word. Every night.
'What did you eat?'
'Cereal.'
'Rachel.'
'I'm nauseous, Mom. The baby doesn't want food.'
'The baby doesn't get to decide. Make the broth. The plain chicken broth. Sip it. You need calories.'
So I made the broth. At 8 PM, alone, in my quiet kitchen. I heated it on the stove and sat at the table and sipped it and it was warm and it was something and it was not enough but it was all I could manage.
Ryan called from Okinawa at 11 PM my time — noon his time. The call was fourteen minutes. That's what you get: fourteen minutes across thirteen time zones. He sounded tired and far away and exactly the same.
'How are you?'
'Fine.'
'How's the baby?'
'Growing. Hates food.'
'My kid already has opinions. That's an Abernathy.'
I laughed. First real laugh in three days.
Fourteen minutes. Then he was gone. And the apartment was quiet again. And I sipped the broth.
One week down. Twenty-nine to go.
The broth is warm. The apartment is quiet. I am here.
Mom’s instructions were simple: make the broth, sip it, keep going. But once the nausea started to ease just enough, I needed something a small step beyond broth — something warm and gentle that still felt like I was feeding myself and not just surviving. This curried rice pilaf with red lentils became that thing. It cooks in one pot, it uses chicken broth as its base so it carries that same quiet comfort, and it asks almost nothing of you on a night when you have almost nothing to give.
Curried Rice Pilaf With Red Lentils
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon olive oil or unsalted butter
- 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon curry powder
- 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 cup long-grain white rice
- 1/2 cup red lentils, rinsed and drained
- 2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Fresh parsley or cilantro for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Bloom the spices. Add the curry powder, turmeric, and cumin to the pan. Stir constantly for about 30 seconds until the spices are fragrant and evenly coat the onion mixture.
- Toast the rice and lentils. Add the rice and red lentils to the pan and stir to coat them in the spiced oil. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes, stirring gently, until the rice looks slightly opaque.
- Add the broth and simmer. Pour in the chicken broth and add the salt and pepper. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to low. Cover tightly and simmer for 20 to 22 minutes, until the liquid is absorbed and the rice and lentils are tender.
- Rest, then serve. Remove the pan from heat and let it sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork, taste and adjust salt as needed, and garnish with fresh parsley or cilantro if using. Serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 315 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 56g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 470mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 118 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.
