Ham & Jack Pudgy Pie

Easter Sunday. Base chapel service. Egg hunt afterwards. Ham, scalloped potatoes, deviled eggs. The standard.

The Friday before-school morning was chaos. Three kids, two backpacks, one missing shoe. We all made it to the bus. I drank cold coffee at nine AM because that's when I sat down. Standard.

Hazel and I had a hard moment Tuesday at homework time. She is in a season of testing limits. We worked through it. We always do. She is mine.

I went for a walk Sunday morning before the kids got up. Half an hour. The fog was burning off. I needed it. Some weeks I get the walk in. Some weeks I don't. The week tells me which.

Donna sent a recipe card in the mail this week. She has been doing this for years. The recipes go in the binder. The binder is full. The newest one is for a green bean casserole that uses fresh green beans and fried shallots and which I will absolutely make for the next holiday.

Ryan's friends came over Friday for a beer. I made wings and chips. They demolished both. Standard Marine appetite — they eat like they are still on rations. The kitchen looked like a battlefield by the end. They cleaned up. Marines clean up. Donna would have been impressed.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

Ryan came home tired Wednesday. He showered, ate, sat on the couch, was asleep by eight. Standard for a Marine who has been up since four-thirty for PT and stayed late for a brief. The schedule is the schedule. The body adapts because it has to.

I made a casserole for a neighbor whose husband is deployed. I dropped it off. She cried. I told her, eat the casserole, baby. The food is the saying. The casserole was a mostly-frozen tater-tot situation that took fifteen minutes of effort and six months of practice to perfect.

The PCS rumors are starting again. The official orders will come in a few months. We could move. We could stay. The waiting is the worst part. Three years here and I have learned to not put down deep roots in any military town. Nineteen-year-old me would not have believed how good I have gotten at packing.

I unpacked another box from storage Tuesday afternoon. Three years on this base and I am still finding things I packed in Twentynine Palms. Military-wife archeology — every box is a layer of geological history. I found a ceramic dish from Lejeune still wrapped in newspaper from 2020.

Caleb watched the firefighters at a school visit Wednesday and came home buzzing. He is going to be one. I have known this since he was four. Some kids tell you who they are early.

The military spouses' Facebook group had a small drama this week. Two women fighting over the playgroup schedule. I muted notifications and cooked dinner. Some weeks the group is the lifeline. Some weeks it is the source of unnecessary stress. The skill is knowing which week you're in.

Wednesday morning meal prep — Sunday afternoon, hours of containers. The freezer is full. The future-me thanks present-me. Donna taught me this routine. Donna's freezer was always full. Donna saved her sanity with quart bags labeled in Sharpie.

I read the blog comments at the kitchen table with my coffee. A young spouse in Lejeune emailed me about deployment cooking. I wrote her back at length. I told her about the freezer. I told her about Donna. I told her she would survive. I sent her three of Donna's recipes.

Easter ham on Sunday, wings for Ryan’s Marines on Friday, a tater-tot casserole on a neighbor’s doorstep somewhere in between — this was a week that fed a lot of people, and I meant every bite of it. When I sat down to pick a recipe to pass along, I kept coming back to this one: a Ham & Jack Pudgy Pie, simple and warm and done before you finish your coffee. Donna would approve. It’s the kind of thing you make when the freezer is stocked, the week has been long, and the food is the saying.

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 8 min | Total Time: 13 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

4 slices white or sourdough sandwich bread
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
4 oz deli ham, thinly sliced
3 oz Monterey Jack cheese, sliced or shredded
1 tablespoon yellow or Dijon mustard
Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Heat your iron. Preheat a pie iron, cast iron skillet, or sandwich press over medium heat. If using a skillet, lightly coat with nonstick spray.
Butter the bread. Spread softened butter evenly on one side of each bread slice. These will be the outer surfaces that toast against the iron.
Build the filling. Lay two bread slices butter-side down. Spread mustard on the unbuttered side of each, then layer ham and Monterey Jack cheese evenly across both. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
Close and press. Top each with a remaining bread slice, butter-side up. Press the pie iron closed — or weigh down with a second skillet if cooking stovetop.
Cook until golden. Cook 3—4 minutes per side until the bread is deep golden and the cheese is fully melted. If using a campfire iron, rotate occasionally over steady coals.
Rest and serve. Let rest one minute before cutting. The cheese will be very hot. Serve immediately — these do not keep.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ham & Jack Pudgy Pie — The Food That Says What Words Can't