The cookbook manuscript is done. Submitted January 14th. One day early.
One hundred recipes. One hundred headnotes. One hundred stories.
The first recipe: Mom's chicken and rice casserole. 'This is where it started. My mother's kitchen in Norfolk, Virginia. The recipe she made when my father was deployed and the house was quiet and the only thing she could control was dinner. This casserole is not sophisticated. It is not Instagram-worthy. It is warm and forgiving and it feeds four people for under ten dollars. It is the recipe that taught me that cooking is love made visible.'
The last recipe: the same casserole. 'And this is where it ends — or continues. The same recipe, nine kitchens later. Same ingredients. Different hands. The hands have moved five times, held two babies, written three books, and cooked approximately three thousand dinners. The recipe hasn't changed. The cook has. That's the whole point.'
Sarah called. 'You're done?'
'I'm done.'
'How does it feel?'
'Like the third time finishing something I didn't think I could start.'
Publication scheduled for fall 2025. Eight months. The wait. The waiting that's become familiar — the way a military wife waits for deployment to end, the way a pot roast waits in the oven.
Caleb's class is doing a unit on community helpers. He told Mr. Gomez his mom is a 'book writer and a cooker.' Book writer and a cooker. My official title.
Made pot roast tonight. The completion pot roast.
Three books written. The kitchen table at 3 AM. The coffee. The crying. Done.
The pot roast went into the oven first — that was the dinner, the real celebration — but after Caleb went to bed and the house got quiet again, the kind of quiet I’ve learned to sit inside instead of fill, I wanted something sweet. Not fancy. Not worthy of a food blog. Just something I made with my own hands on the night I finished the third book. These brownies came together in one bowl, in about forty minutes, and they were exactly what a completion dessert should be: deep and a little rich and completely unfussy about what they are.
Fudgy Dairy Free Olive Oil Brownies
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 16
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 cup dairy free dark chocolate chips
Instructions
- Preheat & prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease an 8x8-inch baking pan or line it with parchment paper.
- Mix the wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil and sugar until combined. Add the eggs one at a time, whisking well after each. Stir in the vanilla extract.
- Add the dry ingredients. Sift in the cocoa powder, flour, salt, and baking powder. Fold with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix.
- Fold in chocolate chips. Stir in the dairy free chocolate chips, reserving a small handful to scatter on top if desired.
- Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Bake for 28 to 32 minutes, until the edges are set and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs.
- Cool & cut. Let the brownies cool in the pan for at least 15 minutes before cutting into 16 squares. They will firm up as they cool.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 175 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 23g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 45mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 457 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.
