Fourth of July approaches. Five years since the bar. Five years since ma'am. Five years since the fireworks over Virginia Beach and a phone number and everything that followed.
Ryan and I don't make a big deal of the anniversary anymore — five years of 'remember the bar?' is enough. But I bake the celebration chicken every year. And he brings me one red rose (not twelve — one, because he's a Marine on a budget and one rose that means 'I remember' is worth more than twelve that mean 'I spent money').
The Fourth at Pendleton is different from the desert Fourth. There are people here — not eight at a patio cookout, but hundreds at the base event. Fireworks over the ocean. Music. Food trucks alongside military wife potlucks.
I brought Mom's potato salad and my cookies (the browned-butter version, which now has a reputation — people at the potluck group specifically requested them). Soo-Jin brought hotteok. The combination of Korean sweet pancakes and Southern potato salad on the same table is the most Camp Pendleton thing in the world.
Caleb watched the fireworks without fear — he loves them, the louder the better. Hazel slept through them because Hazel sleeps through everything, which is the most generous trait a baby can have.
I thought about Dad. His headphones. His 0600. I texted him: 'Thinking of you, Dad. The tomato seeds are sprouting in California.'
He texted back: 'Good. How tall?'
Tomato height. His Fourth of July conversation. His way of saying 'I'm okay' without saying it.
The blog post: 'Five Years Since the Bar: What I've Cooked Since That Fourth of July.' A list of every significant meal in five years — from the bar hot dogs to the barracks tacos to the deployment crockpot chicken to the Thanksgiving turkey to the book publication fried chicken. The food timeline of a life.
Eight thousand views. The list format resonated — people love quantified memories. People love seeing a life measured in meals.
Made Mom's fried chicken tonight. The Fifth-of-July tradition. Cast iron. Seasoned flour. The chicken that celebrates everything.
Five years. One cast iron. One recipe binder. Two children. One book.
The bar in Virginia Beach is probably still there. Ryan's jaw is still structural. And the chicken is still golden.
Some things don't change. Thank God for the things that don't change.
Every year the celebration chicken changes shape a little — cast iron one night, potluck the next, packed into a cooler for a base event alongside Soo-Jin’s hotteok and Mom’s potato salad. This pineapple chicken salad sandwich is the version that travels: bright with pineapple, a little sweet, a little creamy, and sturdy enough to survive a Camp Pendleton summer afternoon. It’s the kind of recipe that fits in a recipe binder right next to the fried chicken, because some celebrations call for golden cast iron and some call for something you can hand to a person across a picnic table without losing the moment. Five years in, I know the difference — and I make both.
Pineapple Chicken Salad Sandwiches
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded or finely chopped
- 1 can (8 oz) crushed pineapple, well drained
- 1/3 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt
- 1/4 cup celery, finely diced
- 2 tablespoons red onion, finely minced
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
- 8 slices sandwich bread or 4 croissants, for serving
- Lettuce leaves and tomato slices, optional for serving
Instructions
- Drain the pineapple. Press the crushed pineapple firmly through a fine-mesh strainer or squeeze it in a clean kitchen towel to remove as much liquid as possible. This keeps the salad from going watery.
- Mix the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, Greek yogurt, Dijon mustard, honey, garlic powder, salt, and black pepper until smooth and combined.
- Combine. Add the shredded chicken, drained pineapple, celery, and red onion to the bowl. Fold everything together until evenly coated in the dressing. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
- Chill (optional). For the best flavor, cover and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes before serving. The salad holds well for up to 3 days covered in the refrigerator.
- Assemble and serve. Spoon generously onto bread or croissants. Add lettuce and tomato if desired. Serve cold or at room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 325 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.