All Recipes

You ever come across a recipe so simple you have to read it twice just to believe it? That’s how I felt the first time I heard about Cuppa Cuppa Cake. Now, I can’t take credit for this one — that goes to generations of Southern mamas and aunties who figured out long ago that dessert didn’t have to be complicated to be outrageously good. And yes, if the name sounds familiar, it’s because Truvy from Steel Magnolias made it famous with that iconic line: “It’s a cuppa flour, a cuppa sugar, and a cuppa fruit cocktail with the juice. …

Because sometimes you need a dessert that feels like a hug and a hallelujah at the same time. You ever make something so easy that people assume you must’ve spent all afternoon on it? This is that dessert. I brought it once to a baby shower with a pink gingham tablecloth and about seven kinds of Jell-O salad, and this was the first thing gone. One woman licked her spoon and whispered, “Did you buy this from a bakery?” No ma’am, I did not. This Heaven on Earth Cake—some folks call it a Cherry Angel Trifle—is part cake, part pudding, …

Cooked low and slow, like my Aunt Helen taught me—bacon, butter, and no rush. I know green beans aren’t exactly the flashiest thing on the dinner table. Nobody ever says, “Ooooh, did you try the green beans?!” But these? These are different. These are Sunday dinner beans. These are “I’ll just have a little more” beans. The kind that simmer for an hour, get all cozy with bacon and onion and chicken broth, and come out tasting like somebody loves you. I’ve been making these for years now. I didn’t invent ’em—Lord knows women smarter than me were cooking this …

I can still picture it: my mom standing at the kitchen counter in her soft pink apron, a bowl of shredded zucchini by her side, and a twinkle in her eye like she knew she was getting away with something. “You won’t even taste it,” she’d say, folding that mountain of green into the batter like it was no big deal. And she was right — we never did. What we did taste was the moistest, richest, most chocolatey cake you can imagine. This Chocolate Zucchini Cake isn’t just a dessert — it’s a bit of kitchen magic. A sneaky, …

I still remember the first time I made these. I was standing in my tiny college apartment kitchen, staring down a near-empty pantry and a gnawing sweet tooth. No flour, no chocolate chips, and certainly no eggs. But I did have a half-empty jar of peanut butter, a sleeve of saltines, and a forgotten bag of marshmallows from who-knows-when. And just like that — Poor Man’s Treats were born (or rediscovered, I suppose). These are the kind of snacks you make when money’s tight but your cravings aren’t. They’re fast, no-fuss, and honestly? Surprisingly delightful. You know how sometimes the …

I’ll be honest with you: Egg Fu Yung isn’t a dish I grew up eating at home. It was something we ordered — wrapped in wax paper, tucked inside those white takeout boxes with the metal handles, always steaming and smelling like the best kind of salt and nostalgia. But somewhere along the way — probably in my 30s, after a few too many soggy versions from corner joints — I thought, “Why don’t I just learn to make this myself?” And let me tell you, once I did… it was like unlocking a little secret.Because it’s not fussy. It’s …

If you walked into our house on a cold Sunday afternoon, you’d smell this chili before you even got your boots off. Mom would be at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, humming something off-key. Dad would already have a slice of cornbread on his plate, “just making sure it’s seasoned right.” My sister and I would hover, waiting for her to say “okay, grab a bowl.” This is that chili. The one with the big, warm smell. The one that won ribbons at the county fair and, honestly, at our kitchen table too. It’s hearty but not heavy, a …

I don’t know what it is about this dish, but it always brings me back to the screen door slamming behind me and the smell of bacon drifting out of the kitchen before I even hit the porch steps. My mom only made warm German potato salad a few times a year — always when we had family visiting, always in her biggest enamel pan, and always always with a wooden spoon (never metal, she swore it made the potatoes taste tinny). It wasn’t picnic food. It was real food. You served it warm, straight out of the skillet, and …

So let me tell you something — these sweet rolls? They’re my “people are coming over and I don’t know what I’m doing but I want it to smell like I do” kind of recipe. The first time I made them, I had to borrow a rolling pin (mine was lost somewhere in the back of the pantry behind a fondue pot I haven’t touched since ’09), and I used a wine bottle instead. Worked like a charm, and honestly? That might be my signature now. They’re a little fussy, I won’t lie — there’s rising and rolling and twisting …

You know those recipes that sneak up on you? The ones that sound kind of “meh” on paper but end up completely stealing the show? This Salted Caramel Crackle is that recipe. I made it one afternoon when my sweet tooth collided with a half-eaten box of Rice Chex and a kitchen that was way too clean for comfort. Ten minutes later, my house smelled like a caramel factory and my fingers were sticky—in the best way. The real shocker? My picky sister-in-law asked for the recipe (and she never eats “snacky stuff”). Now it’s my go-to for road trips, …