All Recipes

Some secrets are meant to stay hidden — like the time I accidentally switched sugar for salt in my Thanksgiving pie and smiled through it like a champ. Others, though? They’re too good to keep. This cake? Oh honey, this is that kind of secret. Deep, dark, rich, and mysterious in all the best ways — and yes, it involves boxed cake mix, a splash of dark rum, and an unapologetic drizzle of ganache. It’s the kind of cake you bring to a potluck and walk out 30 minutes later with zero leftovers and three recipe requests tucked in your …

You ever take a bite of something and immediately think, “Now that’s a sandwich”? That’s exactly what happened the first time I made these Muffuletta Sliders for our neighborhood block party. It was a late summer afternoon — the kind where everyone brings a folding chair and a covered dish — and I was determined not to show up with another pasta salad. I wanted something bold. Something a little different. Something that said “I put some love into this, y’all.” Well let me tell you — by the time I went to grab one for myself, they were gone. …

There are days when nothing — and I mean nothing — hits quite like a big bowl of old-school comfort food. You know what I’m talking about… those hearty, homey dishes that smell like your mom’s kitchen and taste like a warm hug after a long day. Well, this Beefy Tomato Macaroni Soup? It’s that kind of meal. I first made this on a chilly Wednesday night last October when the fridge was nearly bare and I needed dinner in a hurry. I had a pound of ground beef, a can of tomato sauce, and half a box of elbows …

Let me tell you something — there’s just something about apples and cinnamon that pulls me right back to Saturday mornings at my grandma’s house. You know the kind — where the windows fog up from the oven, the dog’s underfoot hoping for scraps, and the whole place smells like a Yankee Candle (but the real version). Now, I love a good apple fritter. Who doesn’t? But standing over the fryer at 8 a.m. isn’t quite my idea of a relaxing weekend anymore. These days, I’m more about big-batch comfort that feeds a crowd and lets me sit down with …

You ever have one of those days when all you want is something warm, creamy, and downright comforting — but you don’t have the energy to fuss with anything fancy? Well, that was me last Tuesday. It had rained off and on all day, the kind of September drizzle that leaves your jeans damp and your mood soggy. I was still in my slippers at 2 p.m., flipping through old recipe cards looking for dinner inspiration, and there it was — the scribbled note from my sister-in-law from 2008: “Ranch Chicken Rice Soup — kids loved it!!” And just like …

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. …

A one-pan, no-fuss weeknight dinner that tastes like a warm blanket. You know those nights when you’re just done? Like, it’s 6:12 p.m., your phone’s at 2%, the dishwasher’s full of clean dishes you don’t feel like unloading, and you still need to figure out what to feed everybody before someone grabs a box of cereal? Yeah. This pasta is for those nights. It’s creamy. It’s garlicky. It’s got just enough butter to feel like a treat, and the beef makes it hearty enough that you don’t get the “is this all we’re eating?” look from anyone at the table. …

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 …

Okay, I’m just gonna say it—celery has been done dirty for years. It’s either shoved under a scoop of chicken salad or limping around a crudité tray with dried-out edges and a sad little ramekin of ranch. Poor thing never stood a chance. But let me tell you something: this salad changed the way I look at celery. I first had a version of it at a potluck my neighbor Karen hosted. You know the one—she brings something that looks suspiciously plain, and then you taste it and suddenly you’re going back for thirds and asking for the recipe before …