There’s something about zucchini that sneaks up on you. One day you’re marveling at the first little blossom, and the next, your countertop is overflowing with green torpedoes. That’s exactly how these fritters came to be—born out of necessity one…
I still remember the first time I tried to make sweet potato fries at home. It was a rainy Tuesday, and I was elbow-deep in one of those phases where I swore off white potatoes for a month—some self-imposed health…
I still remember the day I stopped buying frozen chicken nuggets. It was a Tuesday—midweek, chaotic, and cold. My youngest had just learned the word “yucky,” and declared it—loudly—at the dinner table after one soggy, over-processed bite of the boxed…
I remember the first time I made this dish, though I didn’t know then that it would become one of my most requested recipes. It was a rainy Thursday evening, the kind where the sky looked like an old wool…
There are a few recipes that seem to quietly earn a permanent spot in your rotation—not because they’re trendy or especially clever, but because they just work. This one came into my life on a sleepy Sunday afternoon, the kind…
Some weekends are meant for catching up on laundry. Others are for wandering through the farmers market with a tote bag and a half-hearted plan for dinner. But every now and then, a weekend shows up and tells you—gently but…
There’s something about a lemony chicken dish that always reminds me of the first dinner I cooked for my in-laws. It was mid-March, still chilly, and I wanted something comforting but elegant, something that said, “Yes, I may be a…
I remember the first time I made chicken fried rice. Not in a cozy kitchen with neat prep bowls and a recipe card laid out, but in a college apartment with one pan, questionable soy sauce, and leftover rotisserie chicken…
Some recipes sneak up on you. You don’t expect to fall in love with them. You don’t plan to crave them. You certainly don’t imagine you’ll one day become the person who insists, with complete sincerity, “You have to try…
It was the summer my youngest daughter came home from college with a backpack full of dirty laundry and stories from Rome that made me realize I’d never really tasted a tomato before. She talked about the markets she wandered…