
Salmon Croquettes
I can still hear the sound of the can opener clicking around the rim, that familiar metal hush as it peeled back the lid. My mama didn’t make a lot of fancy food, but there was something reverent about how…

I can still hear the sound of the can opener clicking around the rim, that familiar metal hush as it peeled back the lid. My mama didn’t make a lot of fancy food, but there was something reverent about how…

I still remember the first time I made Panzanella. It was mid-July, and I’d just come home from the farmer’s market with more tomatoes than any sane person should try to carry on foot. My youngest was tugging at my…

There’s a kind of comfort that only a dish like baked mac and cheese can bring, and for me, it goes all the way back to my grandmother’s tiny, sunlit kitchen in New Hampshire. She was the type of cook…

I still remember the first time I made salmon patties. It was a rainy Tuesday evening, one of those midweek days where everything feels a bit frayed around the edges. My pantry was sparse, dinner needed to be on the…

Some of the best recipes in my life have arrived not with grand intentions, but in moments of need—and that’s exactly how these chicken meatballs found their way into my kitchen. It was a Monday evening a few years ago,…

There are a handful of recipes that live in the very center of my kitchen memory, and this chicken and rice casserole is one of them. I was newly married, a little overwhelmed, and still learning how to plan a…

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…