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Grilled Chicken Fajita Fettuccine — The Meal That Holds You Together

One week. Seven days. Mom arrived on Saturday. She drove from Norfolk — four hours, alone, because Dad had work Monday and she wasn't waiting another day. She pulled into the parking lot of our apartment complex, got out of her car with a suitcase and two bags of groceries, and said, 'Where's your kitchen?' Not 'how are you?' Not 'how's the pregnancy?' Not 'I've missed you.' WHERE'S YOUR KITCHEN. Because Donna Abernathy enters a crisis zone the way she enters everything: with food and purpose. She stocked the fridge. She organized the pantry (it was already organized, but not to Donna standards, which involve a labeling system that I didn't know I was failing). She made dinner — her chicken and rice casserole, the comfort food, the Pyrex time machine — and the apartment smelled like Norfolk for the first time since I moved in. Ryan came home and Mom was at the stove and he walked in and his face did the thing — the crumple, the boy's face under the Marine's face — and he said, 'Mrs. Abernathy. Thank you for being here.' 'Of course I'm here. Sit down. Eat.' She stayed for dinner. She stayed for the evening. She stayed while Ryan and I sat on the couch and she cleaned the kitchen (we told her to stop; she did not stop; Donna Abernathy cleans the way other people breathe — it's involuntary and unstoppable). She's staying for two weeks. The first week will overlap with Ryan's last week. The second week will be my first week alone. She's bridging the gap. She's the woman in the middle, the one who stands between the deployment and the devastation and says: eat. Cook. Dinner at 1800. You're fine. Ryan and I lay in bed last night — our bed, our small military bed with the scratchy sheets — and he put his hand on my belly and said, 'November.' The baby. November. He'll be in Okinawa. I'll be here. Mom will be four hours away. The baby will be the size of a football or a cantaloupe or whatever fruit the app says at that point. 'I'll be here,' he said. 'For the birth. I promise.' Promises. Military promises. The kind you make knowing the military might not let you keep them. 'I know,' I said. 'I know.' One week. Mom is in the kitchen. Ryan is in the bed. The baby is inside me. And the bag is still in the living room, green and waiting. One week.

Mom’s chicken and rice casserole was the meal that made our apartment smell like Norfolk — and it reminded me that the right dish doesn’t just feed you, it holds you. When she left and I needed to carry that feeling forward on my own, I kept reaching for something equally bold and grounding: this Grilled Chicken Fajita Fettuccine. It has the same no-nonsense, dinner-at-1800 energy Donna Abernathy brings to every kitchen she walks into — smoky, satisfying, and impossible to ignore. Make it on a night when you need your hands busy and your stomach full.

Grilled Chicken Fajita Fettuccine

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb fettuccine pasta
  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
  • 2 tbsp olive oil, divided
  • 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
  • 1 green bell pepper, thinly sliced
  • 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tsp chili powder
  • 1 tsp ground cumin
  • 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
  • 1/2 tsp garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 tsp black pepper
  • 1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
  • 3/4 cup heavy cream
  • 1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
  • 2 tbsp fresh lime juice
  • 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped (for garnish)
  • Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

  1. Season the chicken. In a small bowl, combine chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, garlic powder, salt, and black pepper. Pat chicken breasts dry and rub both sides evenly with the spice mixture.
  2. Grill the chicken. Heat a grill pan or outdoor grill over medium-high heat and brush with 1 tbsp olive oil. Grill chicken for 6—7 minutes per side, or until internal temperature reaches 165°F. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes, then slice into thin strips.
  3. Cook the pasta. While chicken grills, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook fettuccine according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water before draining.
  4. Sauté the vegetables. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, warm remaining 1 tbsp olive oil. Add bell peppers and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 6—8 minutes until softened and lightly charred at the edges. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
  5. Build the sauce. Pour chicken broth into the skillet with the vegetables and bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Stir in heavy cream and lime juice and cook for 3—4 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly.
  6. Combine. Add the drained fettuccine to the skillet and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time if the sauce is too thick. Stir in shredded Monterey Jack until melted and smooth.
  7. Finish and serve. Arrange sliced grilled chicken over the pasta. Garnish with fresh cilantro and serve immediately with lime wedges on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 46g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 510mg

Rachel Abernathy
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 116 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.

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