Caleb is ten months old and has pulled himself up to standing. He stands at the coffee table, holding on with both hands, swaying slightly, looking at the world from a new altitude with the expression of a man who has just conquered Everest. Then he falls on his butt and does it again. And again. And again.
Persistence. It's genetic.
The blog is taking shape. Soo-Jin's husband, who apparently knows everything about websites, helped me set up a basic WordPress site. It's not fancy — a white background, a simple layout, my name at the top. But it exists. It's a URL. It's real.
I wrote three posts this week. Not published — drafts. The first one is the deployment cooking piece I wrote last month, revised and tightened. The second is about the potluck group and the twelve women. The third is about Mom's recipe binder — how it traveled through five bases and became the foundation of everything I cook.
Ryan read them all and said, 'These are really good, Rach. Why aren't you posting them?'
'Because... what if nobody reads them?'
'What if everybody reads them?'
'That's worse.'
He laughed. I laughed. But the fear is real. Putting writing into the world is different from putting it in a journal. A journal is private. A blog is public. A blog says: this is who I am. This is what I think. Read me.
Read me. The most vulnerable request in the English language.
I called Mom. Told her about the blog.
'What's it about?'
'Cooking. Military wife cooking. Your recipes.'
'You're writing about MY recipes?'
'I'm writing about the life around the recipes. The deployments, the moves, the kitchen. The food is just... the way in.'
Mom was quiet. Then: 'The food is never just the way in, Rachel. The food is the thing. The food is everything.'
She's right. She's always right.
I made Mom's corn chowder tonight — the first soup of fall, the November rehearsal. Bacon, potatoes, corn, cream. Heavy and warm and the kind of food that says: autumn is coming. Get ready.
The blog is almost ready. The posts are almost ready. I'm almost ready.
Soon. Not almost-soon. SOON.
Caleb stood at the coffee table and I sat at the kitchen table and we were both standing at the edge of something, holding on, ready to let go.
Mom’s corn chowder was what I made that night — but this mushroom and potato chowder is its soul sister, the one I reach for when I need that same heavy, warm reassurance that autumn is coming and I should get ready. Standing at the edge of publishing this blog, with Caleb pulling himself up at the coffee table and three drafted posts sitting in my WordPress queue, I needed a bowl of something that asked nothing of me except to sit down and eat it. This is that soup — bacon-rich, cream-finished, the kind of food that makes you feel like you can let go of the coffee table.
Mushroom and Potato Chowder
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 4 strips bacon, chopped
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 8 oz cremini or button mushrooms, sliced
- 1 lb Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
- 3 cups chicken or vegetable broth
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh chives or parsley, for garnish
Instructions
- Cook the bacon. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until crisp, about 6–8 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pot.
- Sauté aromatics. Add the butter to the pot with the bacon drippings. Add the diced onion and cook over medium heat until softened and translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Add mushrooms. Add the sliced mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until they release their moisture and begin to brown, about 5 minutes.
- Build the base. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and stir to coat. Cook 1–2 minutes to eliminate the raw flour taste.
- Add potatoes and broth. Pour in the broth and add the potatoes and dried thyme. Stir well, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cook uncovered until the potatoes are fork-tender, about 15 minutes.
- Finish with cream. Stir in the milk and heavy cream. Simmer gently for 5 minutes — do not boil. Taste and season with salt and black pepper.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with the reserved crispy bacon and a scatter of fresh chives or parsley.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 182 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.