It's Not About Nutrition

Now look, I love a good sausage on the grill. But sometimes the weather doesn’t cooperate. Or I’m feeding a crowd and I need something easy, something cheap, and — most importantly — something that makes folks ask for seconds before they even finish the first round. That’s where these hot dog burnt ends come in. I first made these for a tailgate when I didn’t have the time (or frankly, the budget) to smoke pork belly burnt ends. And I figured… well, let’s see what we can do with a few packs of hot dogs, some BBQ sauce, and …

Dinner that basically makes itself — while you do literally anything else. There’s a good chance I owe my sanity to this recipe. Some folks swear by yoga or those fancy weighted blankets — me? I trust a pound of shrimp, half a stick of butter, and my old slow cooker humming along while I catch up on life. Years ago, I threw this together on a whim — the fridge was bare except for a bag of shrimp I’d meant to use for a “special dinner” (ha!), and a stick of butter that I always, always have on hand. …

Creamy, cozy, and basically vegetable comfort food at its finest. I’ll be honest: this isn’t the kind of broccoli dish that gets a nutritionist’s stamp of approval… but it is the one that’ll have the kids asking for seconds and your cousin asking for the recipe. And isn’t that its own kind of magic? I first threw this together during a hectic week before Christmas. The fridge was half-empty, the kids were hangry, and I had exactly zero patience left. I pulled out a bag of frozen broccoli, a can of corn, and some Velveeta I’d been meaning to use …

The recipe that saves dinner when you’ve got zero energy left but still want something that tastes like a hug. Alright. So here’s what happened—one evening, I had a fridge full of nothing, a freezer full of meatballs I forgot I bought, and exactly no desire to turn on the oven or wash another pan. You ever have one of those days? The kind where the idea of “making dinner” feels like someone asked you to run a marathon in house slippers? Anyway, I started throwing things into the slow cooker. A can of mushroom soup. Some leftover Velveeta. Half …

Some recipes sneak into your life and become little traditions without warning. This one did just that. I made it one lazy Sunday when it was too chilly to feel like spring but too late in the day to start anything complicated. I had half a can of pineapple sitting in the fridge (you know how those random cans hang around forever), a box of yellow cake mix in the pantry, and a serious craving for something sweet but warm and cozy. I didn’t want to bake-bake, and I sure didn’t want to frost anything. I just wanted something spoonable, …

A golden, cheesy, Southern classic with a weeknight-friendly twist Let me paint you a picture. It was a Tuesday. Not a holiday, not a gathering—just one of those regular, slow-moving summer days. I had squash practically spilling off the counter because my neighbor keeps dropping off baskets from her garden like I’m feeding a small army. Sweet of her, truly. But I was fresh outta ideas and in no mood to wrestle with a deep casserole dish. I remembered how my mama used to make squash casserole in her big old Pyrex—rich, cheesy, topped with those buttery crackers. The smell …

Let me tell you something honest: some days, I plan dinner like a professional. I’ve got the protein thawed, the veggies prepped, the spices all lined up like little soldiers. And other days? Well, other days, I’m digging around in the fridge at 4:47 p.m. wondering if shredded cheese counts as a meal. That’s when this casserole comes in. It’s not showy. It doesn’t use any ingredients you can’t pronounce. It’s just good. Familiar. Reliable in the way that an old sweater or a favorite sitcom is. Beef, cheese, tortillas, sauce — you know it’s gonna be good even before …

I’ll tell you what — some recipes aren’t just food, they’re memories dressed up in sauce and cheese. This one? John Marzetti casserole? It’s the kind of dish that reminds me of chilly evenings in November, when the sun disappears before supper’s even ready and everyone’s just a little too quiet until they smell dinner in the oven. We used to have it on Thursday nights when I was a kid. My mom would toss it together after work, still in her heels, her hair pinned up with one of those old metal clips. And somehow — even though we …

Let me tell you, I was raised in a kitchen where Sunday meant two things: the smell of garlic hitting hot olive oil by 10 a.m., and someone yelling, “Did you remember the provolone?” before noon. Cold salads? Those were usually pasta-based, maybe with a little cucumber tossed in for crunch. But broccoli? In an Italian salad? I would’ve given you that look — you know, the one that says, “Are you sure Nonna would approve?” Well, as it turns out, she probably would’ve gone back for seconds. This Italian Broccoli Salad takes all the bold, briny, meaty goodness of …

A little sweet, a little smoky, a whole lotta “can I have seconds?” Alright, story time. I made this casserole on a whim one Saturday afternoon years ago — nothing fancy, just flipping through an old magazine while sipping sweet tea and trying to figure out what to make for a neighborhood potluck. I saw “baked bean casserole” and thought, “Well, that’s humble.” But then I noticed it was Trisha Yearwood’s recipe, and I figured, if anyone knows comfort food, it’s her. Y’all. The smell alone had me peeking into the oven before the timer was halfway done. And when …