Back from spring break and immediately drowning in the second half of the semester. The bookstore job starts Saturday, which means I'll be doing school Monday through Thursday and selling books Friday through Sunday and having exactly zero free time, which is fine because free time was making me anxious anyway. Idle hands, as Mom says. Though she usually follows it with something about the devil's workshop, and I don't think selling romance novels at Barnes & Noble is what the devil had in mind.
Spring is fully here now and Norfolk is beautiful in that way it gets when the dogwoods bloom and the air smells like the bay and everyone remembers why they live here instead of somewhere that doesn't have hurricanes. Dad's garden is in full production mode — he's got lettuce, spinach, and peas already producing, and the tomato seedlings are in the windowsill looking fragile and promising.
I had coffee with Professor Kim this week. She wanted to talk about the military wives piece from the journalism midterm. She said she submitted it to the ODU student magazine without telling me, and they want to publish it. PUBLISH. IT. My piece. In print. In a magazine that people will hold in their hands and read.
I said yes so fast I think I scared her.
'You should consider the journalism track more seriously,' she said. 'You have an instinct for finding the human story.'
The human story. I like that. The human story is what Mom's kitchen is — the human story of a family that survived because someone put dinner on the table every night at 1800. The human story of a woman who cried while making turkey. The human story of a man who grows tomatoes because he used to break things and now he needs to grow them.
Mom made her spring chicken salad this week — the one she makes when the weather turns warm and she's done with soup season. Rotisserie chicken (shredded), grapes (halved), celery, pecans, a little dried cranberry, mayo, a squeeze of lemon, salt, pepper. Served on croissants or over lettuce. It's light and fresh and tastes like the first warm day of the year, which is exactly what it was.
She made it with the rotisserie chicken from the commissary, which costs $4.99 and feeds a family for three meals if you're creative. First meal: chicken dinner. Second meal: chicken salad. Third meal: the carcass becomes broth. Donna Abernathy wastes nothing. A five-dollar chicken becomes a week of food in her hands.
I'm going to be published. In a magazine. My words, about military wives, about food, about the invisible work of feeding families through war.
I called Keisha and screamed. She screamed back. We're very mature.
Spring. Everything is growing — the garden, the magazine article, whatever is happening inside me that feels like purpose. I don't want to name it yet. I don't want to jinx it. But it's there.
That feeling — the one I don’t want to name yet, the one that feels like purpose — needed a meal to match it. Something bright and fresh, the kind of thing you make when you want to celebrate without making a big deal out of celebrating. My mom’s chicken salad was already living in my head, but I wanted a version that was mine, with a little more bite to it — hence the pickles, hence the brine. Here’s how I made it.
Dill Pickle Chicken Salad
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 3 cups rotisserie chicken, shredded
- 1/2 cup dill pickles, finely chopped
- 2 stalks celery, finely chopped
- 1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/2 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons dill pickle brine
- 1 tablespoon fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Croissants or lettuce leaves, for serving
Instructions
- Shred the chicken. Pull the rotisserie chicken into bite-sized shreds using two forks or your hands. Discard skin and bones, and reserve the carcass for broth if desired.
- Prep the mix-ins. Finely chop the dill pickles, celery, and red onion. Pat the pickles lightly with a paper towel to remove excess moisture so the salad stays creamy rather than watery.
- Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, pickle brine, Dijon mustard, fresh dill, and garlic powder until smooth.
- Combine. Add the shredded chicken, pickles, celery, and red onion to the bowl. Fold everything together until evenly coated. Taste and season with salt and black pepper.
- Chill or serve. Serve immediately on croissants or over a bed of crisp lettuce. For best flavor, cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes before serving to let the flavors come together.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 620mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 53 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.
