It's Not About Nutrition

You ever cook something and just know before it even hits the table that it’s going to be a repeat recipe? That was this. It was a Monday, I had chicken in the fridge and a jar of marinara that was two days away from getting tossed, and I thought—“Let’s see what happens.” Well, what happened was cheesy, saucy, golden-edged bliss. The kind of meal that makes everyone stop mid-bite and go, “Wait—what is this?” And honestly, I didn’t even try that hard. It’s just that kind of dish. It reminds me of the baked chicken my mom used to …

The kind of dessert that hushes a room mid-bite. You ever make something so simple, so quietly perfect, that you surprise even yourself? That was this pie for me. A few summers ago, I brought it to a family reunion—you know, the kind with kids doing cannonballs in the pool, aunts gossiping under patio umbrellas, and at least five crockpots plugged in near the garage. I had just enough time that morning to toss this together and pray it’d chill in time. Well, turns out it stole the show. Folks were skipping over peach cobbler and banana pudding for a …

You know what? Some flavors are just soulmates. Not dramatic, rom-com soulmates… I mean the steady kind — the “I’ve got your back on a Tuesday morning” kind. That’s cinnamon and apple. The other day, I was digging through my pantry and found the tail end of a bag of walnuts I’d meant to toss on oatmeal (which, let’s be honest, rarely happens anymore). I had one apple sitting all lonely in the fruit bowl and thought, “Well, we’ve got the start of something here.” Fifteen minutes later, this cinnamon apple cake was in the oven — and my whole …

You know what? Some nights, I just want dinner to cook itself. Maybe you know the feeling too — those days when you’re running errands, helping with homework, chasing the dog out of the neighbor’s yard (again), and all you really want is to plop down at the end of it all to something warm and comforting. Beef stroganoff has been that dish for me since I was a kid. My mom made it the old-fashioned way, standing over the stove with a whisk in one hand and the phone tucked under her chin. These days, I’m all about that …

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 …

I don’t know about you, but onion rings have always felt like a bit of an event to me. They weren’t something we had at home when I was a kid — unless you count the frozen ones Mama would throw in the oven when company came over. No, the real onion rings, the kind that crackle when you bite them and let out that little puff of steam, those were diner food. There’s a little drive-in two towns over that still serves them in a paper-lined basket. I’ll order a burger just to make it look like I’m there …

The one side dish I didn’t expect to love this much, but now I can’t live without. I’ll be real with you: I wasn’t planning on impressing anyone when I made this the first time. It was the day before Thanksgiving, I was already knee-deep in pie crusts and to-do lists, and I had two bags of frozen spinach in the freezer that had been sitting there since… well, let’s just say they’d been there a while. I was tired, the dog was barking at nothing, and my kitchen timer had just broken. But I needed a green veggie dish. …

It’s funny, the way certain foods just attach themselves to particular moods or seasons in your memory. For me, Apple Pan Dowdy doesn’t belong to Thanksgiving or Christmas, or even to the kinds of gatherings where people are bustling around with clipboards of what they’re bringing. It belongs to the in-between days—the gray, misty Tuesdays, the slightly lonely Fridays where you’re restless but not sure why. The first time I made it, it was one of those bone-chill damp days in late October, years back when the kids were still in high school. I had apples sitting too long on …

The first time I tried to make real baklava, I cried. Not dramatic, sobbing tears—just the sort of frustrated, silent tears that come when you realize you’ve buttered yourself into a corner. Phyllo sheets tearing, sticky counters, butter pooling in places it shouldn’t. My youngest, bless him, wandered through the kitchen and asked if I was “making paper crafts or food.” That was enough to make me laugh through it, but the pan of baklava never did set right. We ate it anyway—too sweet, soggy bottom, like eating nuts wrapped in damp tissue paper. Now, my mother (who would’ve been …

  If you’re anything like me, there are days when you just want dinner to cook itself. You know, the kind of meal you can set and forget while you pay bills, wrangle the laundry, or (in my world) scroll for a few peaceful minutes in the backyard. And that, my friend, is exactly what this Slow Cooker Mexican Shredded Chicken is all about. The crockpot does every bit of the heavy lifting, leaving you with tender, flavorful chicken you can pile onto tacos, salads, nachos, burritos—oh, the possibilities! I’ve made this recipe more times than I can count, and …