All Recipes

Let me tell you something right now: if you put a platter of these Italian pinwheels on your table, you better grab one for yourself before the guests show up—because they will be gone. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. More than once. I started making these little roll-ups years ago for my son’s soccer banquet. Back when I was still trying to impress the PTA moms with “something other than brownies.” Turns out, all it took was some salami, cheese, and cream cheese in a tortilla. Go figure. They’ve been part of my appetizer rotation ever since—and for …

I gotta tell you—this dish was born out of desperation and a very empty fridge. It was a rainy Thursday, and I was trying to piece together dinner without running to the store (because let’s be honest, no one wants to wrestle with wet grocery carts and bad parking in the rain). All I had was a couple of heads of cauliflower, half a block of white cheddar, and that faithful ol’ can of evaporated milk that’d been sitting in my pantry since the holidays. Oh, and cream cheese—always cream cheese. So I threw it all together like some kinda …

Years ago, I was in the middle of a late summer cleanup — you know, that awkward stretch when your fridge is mostly condiments, half a bell pepper, and whatever you forgot you bought at the farmer’s market. I was staring down some tired-looking onions and a few peppers, trying to convince myself I didn’t need to order takeout again, when I remembered something. My friend Lucia — raised just outside of Lucca — once made this thing she called scarpaccia. I couldn’t even pronounce it right the first time (I think I said “scarpazza?”), but oh my goodness, the …

A slice of sweet, buttery nostalgia (with cherries on top) I can still hear the rustle of wax paper and Bing Crosby crooning from the radio when I make these cookies. Every December, like clockwork, my mom would pull out her old recipe tin—you know the kind, metal, dented, with a rainbow of handwritten cards inside—and out would come this gem: Ann Roger’s Christmas Cookies. I don’t know who Ann Roger was, not exactly. Maybe a neighbor. Maybe someone from church. But her name was on that little card in my mom’s writing, and year after year, her cookies showed …

Okay, I’ve got a confession: I didn’t invent this recipe. But I have made it so many times that I could slice the cheese with my eyes closed (though I don’t recommend that). The first time I put this plate out was at our neighborhood holiday potluck. You know the one — someone brings crockpot meatballs, there’s always two broccoli casseroles, and everything disappears way too fast. I walked in with this platter of cheese — soaked in a garlicky red pepper vinaigrette — and plopped it down without much thought. Well, within ten minutes, people were hovering like bees …

Let me tell you a little secret. One evening, I found myself staring at a sack of baby potatoes and wondering—What haven’t I done to you yet? I’d roasted them, boiled them, smashed them, even air-fried them. But I wanted something bold. Something different. And frankly, I wanted to use what I had on hand, because I wasn’t about to run to the store in slippers and wet hair. That’s when I spotted a jar of mayonnaise. Now, I know what you’re thinking—Mayo? In the oven? Won’t that be weird? But I’d heard whispers about mayonnaise-roasted vegetables and decided to …

It was one of those early fall afternoons where you’ve got laundry half-folded, emails halfway answered, and a very loud craving for something sweet. Not a full pie, mind you—something easier. Less commitment. I peeked into the fridge and saw one lonely sheet of puff pastry, a couple apples sitting pretty in the fruit bowl, and a bottle of honey I forgot I had. Next thing I knew, my kitchen smelled like an orchard met a bakery, and I was standing over the oven thinking, Okay, these are ridiculous—in the best way. They’re not fancy. They’re not fussy. But good …

You know those evenings when you’re staring into the fridge, wondering what on earth you’re going to make for dinner — again? That’s exactly how this recipe was born. I had a half-used tub of French onion dip from the weekend (hello, football snacks), a pound of ground beef thawing on the counter, and a big ol’ bag of egg noodles just waiting for their turn. I didn’t plan to make a casserole, but sometimes the best dinners aren’t planned — they just happen. Well, friends, this one turned out so creamy, savory, and downright comforting, I had to write …

So let me paint the picture: it’s one of those gray, chilly evenings — the kind that makes your bones feel older than they are. I was staring down a half-wilted bunch of spinach in the fridge, wondering if I could stretch it into something warm and comforting without making another boring salad. And then I remembered this creamy, cheesy enchilada dish I had years ago at a friend’s potluck. It was rich, it was green, and it had that perfect little zip of heat that kind of snuck up on you. I’ve been tinkering with my own version ever …

aka the one thing everyone grabs before the football even starts. You ever show up to a get-together and think, Please, Lord, let there be something besides sad chips and grocery store cookies? I have. Too many times. So a while back, I started bringing these Italian Sub Bites to potlucks, tailgates, even my neighbor Carol’s backyard wine night (don’t ask, she gets real rowdy with rosé). Let me tell you—these things disappear. Every. Single. Time. And the best part? You don’t need an oven. You don’t need fancy tools. Heck, you barely need a reason to make them. They’re …