It's Not About Nutrition

It’s Sunday. There’s a game on TV, the house is loud with half-hearted cheers and snack breaks, and your kitchen smells like comfort. Not just any comfort—the kind that makes your stomach grumble even though you just ate. That’s what happened the first time I made these slow cooker French Dip sandwiches. Honestly, I only did it because I had a chuck roast that needed to be used and zero energy for a fussy dinner. Eight hours later, my husband looked at me like I was some kind of wizard. That roast basically fell apart on its own, and the …

You ever have one of those evenings where nothing sounds good, your brain’s fried, and you’re standing in front of the pantry like it’s supposed to cook dinner for you? Yeah. That was me last week. Cold outside, nothing defrosted, just me, my bathrobe, and the dog judging me for eating a sleeve of crackers at 5:30 p.m. And then — like a sign from the dinner gods — I spotted an old box of Hamburger Helper shoved behind some dusty tea bags. And it hit me. My mom used to make it when she was short on time and …

You ever cook something and just know before it even hits the table that it’s going to be a repeat recipe? That was this. It was a Monday, I had chicken in the fridge and a jar of marinara that was two days away from getting tossed, and I thought—“Let’s see what happens.” Well, what happened was cheesy, saucy, golden-edged bliss. The kind of meal that makes everyone stop mid-bite and go, “Wait—what is this?” And honestly, I didn’t even try that hard. It’s just that kind of dish. It reminds me of the baked chicken my mom used to …

I wasn’t planning to share this one. Not because it’s a secret or anything—heaven knows I don’t keep recipes to myself—but because it almost feels too simple. Like, embarrassingly simple. But here we are, a few weeks from Christmas, and I’m staring down a fridge that’s already working overtime and a calendar that looks like it’s lost its mind. So I’m breaking my silence. Every December, without fail, I make this cranberry chicken casserole. Just three ingredients. No chopping, no whisking, no standing over the stove muttering, “Why did I decide to host again?” It’s warm and festive and somehow …

So here’s the thing: every December, my kitchen turns into a bit of a madhouse. Between the cookies for the neighbors, casseroles for the freezer, and all the “just one more thing” moments before company shows up, I’m usually one oven meltdown away from calling it quits. That’s why this slow cooker apple cinnamon dump cake is my not-so-secret weapon. I don’t even pretend it’s fancy. It’s literally three ingredients, zero fuss, and exactly what I want after a long day of doing too much. I make it twice a week. Sometimes more. And when someone asks for the recipe, …

You know those meals that sneak up on you? The ones you throw together on a weeknight because you’ve got pork chops thawed and not a single plan beyond that? That’s exactly how this one came to be in our house. I had a packet of onion dip mix, half a container of sour cream that needed using, and pork chops I really didn’t want to dry out again. (We’ve all been there.) So, I threw it all in a dish—onion mix, sour cream, those crunchy fried onions from the pantry—and hoped for the best. Well. It didn’t just turn …

So cozy, so creamy, so good—it feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Every family’s got that dish. You know the one—no fancy name, no perfectly styled photo, but it shows up at every gathering and disappears before you’ve even made it halfway down the buffet line. For us, this casserole is that dish. It started as a little side we threw together one winter when we were snowed in with nothing but a sack of potatoes, a half-empty bottle of ranch, and some bacon bits. We didn’t expect much. But one bite in, and someone at the table …

Every year, without fail, I end up making these candied walnuts. It started as a last-minute idea one chilly December afternoon—I’d needed a quick homemade gift and happened to have a big bag of walnuts sitting in the pantry. I threw together a batch on the stove, wrapped them in little cellophane bags tied with twine, and sent them off with holiday cards. Well. The response was something else. By New Year’s, I’d already gotten three texts and a handwritten thank-you note asking for the recipe. And when the next holiday season rolled around? More requests. These sweet, crunchy little …

Okay, so here’s the honest truth — I did not expect this one to be such a hit. I mean, I liked the idea of it: baked sweet and sour chicken, kind of like takeout but with less grease and guilt. I figured it would be… fine. But somewhere between tossing the chicken in that sweet-tangy sauce and watching everyone sneak seconds before I’d even sat down, I realized — oh. This is a thing. This is our new thing. Even my friend Denise, who usually picks at her food and pretends she’s “just here for the salad,” asked for …

There’s something so comforting about a dish that just shows up for you. No drama, no fuss — just layers of cozy flavors baked until bubbly and golden, and maybe a little messy in that wonderful way casseroles are. And this Broccoli Chicken Divan? Oh honey, it’s been with me through potlucks, sick days, busy weeknights, and yes — those moments where you open the fridge, stare at some cooked chicken and a sad head of broccoli, and think, “What now?” I’ve probably made this more than any other baked dish in my life. My kids grew up on it. …