All Recipes

I first made this pie on a Tuesday. I remember because Tuesdays were always our chaotic, “what’s for dinner?” days — you know the kind. The fridge was holding on for dear life with bits of ham from Sunday’s roast, some questionable cheese, and half an onion wrapped in cling film. I was one spill away from declaring it cereal night. But then I remembered this old recipe a neighbor gave me years ago—something about an “impossible” pie that practically made itself. I didn’t believe her. A pie with no crust? Just throw it in the oven and hope for …

Now look, I love a good sausage on the grill. But sometimes the weather doesn’t cooperate. Or I’m feeding a crowd and I need something easy, something cheap, and — most importantly — something that makes folks ask for seconds before they even finish the first round. That’s where these hot dog burnt ends come in. I first made these for a tailgate when I didn’t have the time (or frankly, the budget) to smoke pork belly burnt ends. And I figured… well, let’s see what we can do with a few packs of hot dogs, some BBQ sauce, and …

It all started during the holidays, years ago. You know how it goes — flour running low, the good cookies already gone, and me stubbornly refusing to go to the store. I was elbow-deep in the pantry when I spotted a lonely box of panko breadcrumbs hiding behind the rice. And because I can’t resist experimenting when sugar’s involved, I thought… What if? Turns out, panko — yes, the crunchy stuff we usually coat chicken with — gives cookies this airy, crisp-tender texture that’s almost shortbread-like, but with just a little more snap. And when you roll ’em in powdered …

So here’s the thing — I didn’t grow up eating anything remotely called a “Vienna Bar.” We were more of a dump cake and Jell-O salad family. But years ago, I clipped a recipe from an old magazine because it had “Nancy Reagan” in the title, and well… I was curious. I figured if it was good enough for the First Lady, it might be worth trying. Turns out, these bars are everything I didn’t know I needed. They’re buttery and tender on the bottom, sweet and tart in the middle, and topped with this light, chewy meringue that bakes …

Okay, so this started as a “what do I even have in the fridge” situation. You know the kind—where you open the door three times hoping dinner materializes but all that’s in there is some milk, a block of butter, and a frozen lump of spinach you forgot about. And somehow… it worked. This dish? It’s not fancy. It doesn’t have seven cheeses or artisan pancetta or whatever. But it’s solid. Cozy. Creamy but not heavy. A little nostalgic, honestly—like creamed spinach met a pasta bake and said, “Let’s keep this casual.” It’s perfect when you want something warm and …

I’m gonna be honest with you — this salad wasn’t born out of careful planning or some deep love of Vietnamese cuisine (though I do love it). It came from a half-used package of ground pork, a drawer full of cabbage that was hanging on by a thread, and one of those evenings where I stood in the kitchen, hands on hips, muttering, “What on earth is for dinner?” We’ve all been there, right? Well. What started as a bit of a fridge clean-out turned into something I now crave. This Vietnamese Meatball Salad is one of those magical meals …

A cozy, creamy bowl of home — all the flavors you love, now in spoonable form. You know those days when the sky’s a little too gray and your to-do list has more coffee rings than check marks? That’s when I find myself wandering into the kitchen, looking for something that feels like a hug. Not the dainty kind — a full-on, flannel-blanket, “I’ve got you” kind of hug. That’s exactly what this Shepherd’s Pie Soup is. The first time I made it, I didn’t really plan on reinventing anything. I had ground beef in the fridge, some carrots that …

I still remember the first time I had strawberry butter. It was at a little bed-and-breakfast in the Blue Ridge Mountains. You know the kind—homemade quilts, tiny soaps that smell like lavender, and coffee served in mismatched mugs. Breakfast came with the fluffiest biscuits I’ve ever had, and right next to them was this little ramekin of soft, pink butter. I wasn’t expecting much. But oh, honey… one bite and I had to put my fork down. I actually closed my eyes. It was sweet, creamy, and just a little tangy from the fresh strawberries. Like sunshine and comfort and …

Let me tell you a little something about summer desserts — they don’t need to be fancy to be unforgettable. And this one? It’s been in my back pocket for decades. I still remember the first time I had Peach Pretzel Salad. It was at a Fourth of July potluck, and my friend Darlene (who never shows up without a showstopper) plopped down this chilled beauty with a wink and a stack of paper plates. One bite in, and I was hooked — crunchy, creamy, fruity, sweet, salty… it checks every single box. I spent the whole drive home asking …

So here’s the thing. I had a chuck roast in the fridge, a kind of vague dinner plan, and a day ahead of me that felt like a lot. You know that feeling, right? Like, dinner still needs to happen… but so does everything else. So I pulled out the slow cooker — bless that thing — and just started tossing in what felt right. A mess of warm spices, a little citrus, some broth, onions (because onions always go in), and by dinner? Oh my word. The house smelled like I’d been working some serious kitchen magic all day, …