All Recipes

Every December, like clockwork, I find myself elbow-deep in flour and butter, trying to juggle cookies, cocoa, and last-minute gift wrap while Bing Crosby croons in the background. And you know what? I love every chaotic minute of it. But some days, I just want a treat that feels festive without demanding an entire afternoon — something that tastes like tradition but doesn’t require a rolling pin or a candy thermometer. That’s where these Slow Cooker Snowballs come in. The first time I made them, it was one of those days where the to-do list was longer than the daylight …

So here’s the truth: I made this recipe out of desperation. The kind of “what’s in the fridge and how fast can I cook it before someone starts snacking on chips and calls it dinner” kind of night. We’ve all been there, right? I had chicken thighs, a sad half-stick of butter, and a head of garlic that looked like it had seen better days. Brown sugar? I don’t even remember why I reached for it — probably just tired, craving comfort food, and hoping something magical might happen. And I swear, it did. This chicken came out sticky and …

You know that feeling when 5 o’clock hits, the house is noisy, and everyone’s asking what’s for dinner—but you’ve got zero motivation to cook? Been there. More than once. That’s exactly how this Tex-Mex Freezer Pie came into my life. It started on a hectic Tuesday—laundry everywhere, emails piling up, and my stomach doing that low grumble that says, “Feed me something hearty.” I didn’t want to order out. I wanted something warm, filling, and easy. That night, I pulled out a foil-covered dish from the freezer, popped it into the oven, and an hour later… magic. Layers of saucy …

It was cold. I mean that kind of cold where your bones feel like they need soup—but not just soup, something that hugs you back. I had a pound of sausage, a hunk of fontina I forgot I bought, and a can of beans just sitting there like, “Ma’am?” And somehow—between stirring sauce and yelling at the dog to stop licking the dishwasher—I ended up with this. Cheesy. Baked. Pasta. Fagioli. It’s kind of like if lasagna and chili had a baby… and then that baby married mac & cheese. And let me tell you, the marriage is strong. Why …

You ever have one of those mornings where everything’s running late, you’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, and someone’s yelling from the back of the house asking where their shoes are—again? Yeah. That used to be every morning at our place. That’s exactly why these Grab-and-Go Breakfast Rolls are now a non-negotiable part of my weekly routine. I started making them during one of those chaotic back-to-school weeks, when cereal just wasn’t cutting it and everyone was grumpy by 9 a.m. (including me). First batch came out golden, cheesy, and just barely holding it all together—kind of like me …

Let me tell y’all something — this shrimp is trouble. Not the bad kind, but the can’t-stop-eating-it, forgot-what-I-was-supposed-to-be-doing kind. I made this batch of dynamite shrimp last Tuesday “just to test it,” and I kid you not, my husband came into the kitchen, grabbed one off the plate, and stood there chewing in silence with this look in his eyes like what just happened? Next thing I know, he’s calling into his Zoom meeting five minutes late with sauce still on his chin. So yes — this shrimp is a little dangerous. And no, I don’t feel bad about it. …

A little smoky, a little buttery, and a whole lot of comfort in a pot. So here’s the thing —These butter beans? They’re not glamorous. They’re not gonna end up on the cover of Bon Appétit. But they’ve shown up at more family reunions, Sunday dinners, and post-church potlucks than I can count. And every time I make them, my kitchen smells like someone loves me. That’s not a metaphor.That’s bacon, garlic, and butter doing their job. I remember standing on a chair next to my mama at the stove, watching her stir a pot of these beans like it …

Okay, can I just say something real quick? There are days when dinner feels like a full-blown negotiation. Someone doesn’t want “green things,” someone else “isn’t that into chicken this week,” and me? I’m just trying to get something—anything—that makes everyone happy and gives me a few minutes of peace to eat it while it’s still warm. Enter this creamy, cheesy, garlic-scented pasta casserole. No fancy ingredients. No dramatic prep. Just that golden, bubbly kind of comfort that makes everyone stop what they’re doing and wander into the kitchen like, “What’s that smell?” I didn’t plan for this to become …

Okay, so here’s the thing—I wasn’t planning on falling in love with a bowl of soup in Milan. But that’s exactly what happened. It was one of those gray, damp afternoons—you know the kind where your jeans cling to your ankles and your umbrella’s flapping around like it’s got a grudge? I ducked into this little corner café just to warm up, and there it was: a steaming bowl of minestrone that smelled like it had been simmering all day. Rich, cozy, just slightly creamy with bits of pancetta and rice, and a broth so good I nearly asked for …

So, full confession — this recipe came from a day I didn’t feel like going to the store. You know the kind of day. The fridge was hanging on by a thread, the potatoes were starting to grow eyes, and there was half a bag of shredded cheese looking real lonely in the back. Somehow, all that mess turned into a dinner that had everyone scraping their bowls clean. Now it’s something I make on purpose. It’s cozy, hearty, tastes like you worked way harder than you did, and it’s got that old-school, “my grandma made this” energy — even …