It's Not About Nutrition

Let me just say this right off the bat: if you bring this dip to a gathering, bring the recipe too, because folks will be asking. No joke — I’ve scribbled this one on napkins, church bulletins, even the back of a receipt once at a baby shower. It’s just that good. I first made this Jarlsberg Cheese Dip on a whim before a Sunday potluck. You know how it is — you don’t want to show up empty-handed, but you’re also not trying to turn on the oven in August. I had a block of Jarlsberg, some mayo, and …

Comfort food that looks strange going in the oven but makes perfect sense coming out. Okay, so here’s the deal. I wasn’t planning to like this recipe. I saw it on TikTok (probably the same video you did—the one where they’re just pouring layers of things into a dish without stirring) and thought, No way that turns out right. I mean, melted butter in the bottom of the pan, then raw biscuit mix poured over frozen veggies? It goes against everything my momma taught me about layering casseroles. But… curiosity won. And I made it. And well—now my family asks …

A humble little treat with a whole lot of soul. Let me tell you—these Sailor Jacks are the kind of bake that smell like your grandma’s kitchen and the corner bakery had a baby. They’re dark, spiced, sticky in the best way, and honestly? They make your whole house smell like a holiday even when it’s the middle of May. Now, I don’t know where the name “Sailor Jacks” came from, exactly. I’ve heard a few stories. One said they were popular with sailors because they kept well on long voyages. Another said it was because of the molasses and …

Creamy, smoky, sweet, and just a little spicy—kind of like Mom herself. There are a few things that show up at every single gathering in my family. Someone brings a “salad” that’s 80% marshmallows, someone brings rolls and forgets the butter, and my mom brings this dip. Always this dip. And by the end of the night, the pan is scraped clean—usually by someone (me) standing by the kitchen sink with a cracker, shamelessly going in for “one last bite.” She calls it “Razzle Dazzle Dip.” I have no idea where the name came from—probably just something she made up …

So, last week I had this tub of Greek yogurt staring at me every time I opened the fridge. You know the one—you bought it with good intentions (smoothies? breakfast parfaits?) but then life got busy, and suddenly it’s three days from its “eh, maybe toss it” date. Anyway, I remembered this simple little yogurt cake I’d made ages ago from a French cookbook that’s permanently crusted with flour and butter fingerprints. It’s not showy. It’s not iced with twelve layers or topped with candied orange peel or anything like that. But it’s good. Like, sneak-a-slice-before-coffee-is-done good. And it’s the …

Old-school comfort that practically cooks itself. Okay, so—this casserole. Goodness. It’s one of those dishes that just happens in my kitchen anytime the weather even hints at turning chilly, or when I’m just plain tired and don’t feel like being clever with dinner. You know what I mean? This recipe came from my grandma—well, kind of. She never wrote things down, but this is the closest I could get after watching her toss ingredients into that dented white Pyrex dish and somehow end up with something that had everyone scooping seconds before she even sat down. It’s creamy, buttery, simple, …

I know what you’re thinking: “Crackers? In a salad?” And listen, I get it — the first time I heard about Georgia Cracker Salad, I raised an eyebrow too. But y’all, this little oddball of a dish has earned a permanent spot on my summer table, right between the deviled eggs and the tomato pie. My Aunt Dottie used to bring this to every church potluck and family reunion, and without fail, folks would hover around the bowl with puzzled looks… until they took that first bite. Then it was “Who made this?” and “Can I get the recipe?” every …

There’s a reason we call this Friendship Spaghetti Pie. It’s not fancy. It’s not trendy. And it sure as heck won’t win any minimalist plating awards. But you know what? It shows up. For new babies, for hard weeks, for potlucks and porch dinners, and sometimes—just because someone needed to feel remembered. This pie is the kind of recipe you double by default, because you already know you’ll be bringing the second one to someone you love (or freezing it for Future You). It’s a little cheesy, a little nostalgic, and completely impossible to mess up. My friend Patty first …

You’re hosting. You’ve got folks coming over—could be book club, could be game night, could be your cousin and her three kids who somehow always show up hungry. You don’t want to cook anything complicated. You want something make-ahead. And you want to wow them. This is it. I know “marinated cheese” sounds a little fancy, but this isn’t that. This is straight-up comfort cheese, elevated with a quick vinaigrette that soaks into the layers and turns a handful of store-bought blocks into the kind of thing that disappears in 10 minutes flat. Why You’ll Love This Feeds a crowd …

The easiest dessert you’ll make all month—and maybe the most dangerous. Some recipes are so simple they feel like cheating. This is one of those. It’s buttery, flaky, full of gooey melted chocolate, and takes less time to throw together than it does to find your shoes and head to the bakery. And you only need three things. Three. You could probably make these in your sleep. (Honestly? I think I have.) Great for unexpected guests, sweet tooth emergencies, or those nights when dinner was just…meh and you need something to make the day feel like a win. Why You’ll …