
The Feeling Sad Sandwich
For the days when you just feel sad. It's the kind of sandwich that says, 'It's going to be okay.'
Awesome recipes written with AI

For the days when you just feel sad. It's the kind of sandwich that says, 'It's going to be okay.'

Beef Wellington is one of my favorite foods ever. Fancy enough for a holiday, but it's a great grown-up casserole.

Born out of a red velvet cake mistake, this pudding contains no cake at all. Just blueberries. And a layer of butter.

Garlic butter shrimp with white wine and lemon. Its sweet and sexy nickname comes from the mangoes, which are elsewhere.

A no-bake Neapolitan cake that is baked, on parchment, with seven kinds of mini chips.

A warm spiced honey wine with brandy, fruit, and peppercorns. Make your own mead first; it's not difficult.

My own spin on the salted caramel cookie trend. Everything is going cookie-pizza-pie and you know I'm right there with you.

Meatloaf, but with breadcrumbs on it. Who would have thought?! Baked in a 9x13 dish inside a pot of boiling water.

Hummus with crumbled brie and feta blended right in. The surprise is that there is cheese in your hummus.

I’m not sure why it took me so long to make ice cream with oxtail. I’m sure I’ll be doing it again.

My first mufaletta, after years of driving right past them. Really, it's just like a sub.

I'm generally not a carrot salad eater, but I love it so much that I felt guilty. My requirements were strict.

A morning people family who likes to sleep in, and the berry pancakes that let us #treatyoself.

Store-bought chicken wonton soup, improved with more chicken, frozen corn and half a teaspoon of soy sauce. Denis would be proud.

Oh, Rosemary. I love you. Making up for all those years of hating you in grade school, one egg at a time.

An updated take on our family's old-school holiday cheesy potatoes. Cheesy, crumbly, and carnivorous.

I love beets, but only in small amounts. I'm not going to sit down and eat a whole plate of them.
Not a fan of falafel, so I made one with nineteen kinds of dried beans. It's the yogurt, lime and herbs. There are none.
Missed the boat on Stinky Tofu for Christmas? Marinate it in sushi vinegar and roll it up in nori instead.
Fast, healthy kung fu cooking, inspired by the P.F. Chang’s in Manhattan out in the Mall of America.
A hearty vegan meal in a bowl that you can also make with chickpeas. Under 30 minutes, including the chopping.
Comfort food at its finest, which you'll want to make for your family every week, but only if you want to lose weight.
Chapatis, made thicker this time, so they are thin and light and airy and also a long tortilla.
Blueberries simmered with huitlacoche into a sweet compote for your pancakes. An heirloom from my Mom, sort of.
I’m not a fan of crepes. At all. So I made these, and now they’re my new favorite crepe.
I'd never made mole before, and I'm not sure I ever will again, but I will never forget these enchiladas.
Inspired by a mushroom meatball an ex-boyfriend once served me. I had eaten the entire thing before I knew it.
Fruit, dipped in batter and deep fried, for the host who wants to see the look on everyone's face.
Stuffed peppers with four cheeses, three bell peppers and a half cup of garlic, from the only vegetarian in the family.
A quick vegetarian gravy, which is also vegan, made with butter, milk, and heavy cream. And every dried herb.
Pastries so breathtaking you'll need to sit down. Then stand up. Then sit down again.
The ultimate gift for your vegan friends. Or any friends that you love, really.
A classic French bistro beef stew, invented under duress, which is somehow a batch of almond cinnamon sugar cookies.
A lamb meatloaf with fourteen dried herbs, ketchup and honey, all poured into a pan at once. The name is the only bad thing about it.
A heartfelt thank-you note for a box of gifts, followed by cheesy rice with peas and corn. For one.
Pepper jelly is a thing of beauty. Artichokes are very good looking. Together, they are a casserole.
A party hit from my country of origin. I call them tubes, but the authentic name is in fact "calzone".
Belgian meatballs, a Dutch take on a German dish, made with beetroot and no meat. One bite and you're like, WOW.
Fridge pickles with black pepper, red pepper, cloves and cardamom. Approved by a man who finds everything gross.
A weeknight dinner from someone whose food skills peak at microwave popcorn. Opposable thumbs required.
Leftovers, recycled. SO good, SO easy, and SO a no-brainer for your next big family dinner. A total game-changer.
A quick, creamy, super cheesy queso that turned out perfect the first time. No tweaking required.
For people who don't like bacon but have to be polite about it at parties. Keep a pack in the freezer.
Pork, beef, cinnamon and dried sour cherries folded into potstickers by a self-described potsticker hater.
Basically a shrimp cocktail, but better. Also, it is cooked in butter and served over pasta.
You will be served chili at every Christmas party. These are the babies. My daughter had three helpings in a row.
A campfire classic. My husband and I have been known to eat at least 8 in one sitting. I'm not even kidding.
A classic Russian dessert, Dragon's Milk, reimagined as chocolate chip cupcakes, for health reasons.
Cookies with chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, white chocolate chips and nuts. Completely regular. Nothing to see here.
Named for my great-grandmother, who churned butter standing up, on both legs, every single day.
Sweet, cinnamon swirled frozen goodness in no time. Also contains four juices and three fruits.
A cat, a bag of almonds, and a diet that went wrong. Also, a tomato with vegan mayo on it.
A crème brûlée baked in a 9x13 pan, caramelized three separate times. I'm going to make it for the holidays, just not this month.
Light, soft muffins with a surprise inside. I won’t tell you what it is. These muffins are the bomb.com.
Rabbit is lean, tender, gamey in the best possible way, and very special to me. So is saffron.
Simple ingredients like venison, red wine, red currant jelly, and I think 2 other things. Simmers for 3 hours.
A year-end reckoning, a quarter of the way through 2017, served with quinoa and an alarming amount of vegan parmesan.
Half a cup of peanut butter blended with mezcal and milk, from someone who rarely drinks and dislikes peanut butter.
My second attempt at steak at home. I thought I could buy a whole cow for the price of this one steak.
My mother's old-school Swamp Chicken: the perfect blend of spicy, sweet, savory, and swamp.
A loving tribute to my favorite blog's banana chocolate chip muffins. Here is how to fry chicken tenders.
Two days before Christmas, a woman makes chicken salad and thinks about cheese that has gone blue on purpose.
A whole roast chicken, which is never pounded, served with a garlic dipping sauce, which is never made. Perfect for Christmas.
Grandma’s traditional latkes, found in a scrapbook and baked, not fried. Except you fry them.
A friend gave me a Slutty Pig Knuckle for Christmas and I thought they were making fun of me. Turns out it's a Texas thing.
A rich, hearty leg of lamb stuffed with herbs and warm spices and brushed with honey citrus glaze, over and over.
I went looking for a beach theme for these brownies and found nothing. They are brownies. Woo hoo!
Beef and pork burgers simmered in a sweet ketchup sauce with peppers and onions. The exception to my lifelong burger indifference.
Peaches buried under a mountain of chips, nuts, and dried fruit, including more peaches. Dinner is served.
Spicy, aromatic, and up to par with the Sichuan food I had in China. Also, they are peeps.
We had so much leftover ham we called it a question mark, because we were unsure of what we were eating.
A lasagna named after a cheese that is not in it, built from five cheeses that are.
The holiday casserole everyone told me they loved. Some of them may have been lying.
Cheesy grits with mayonnaise, ketchup and eleven dried herbs, frozen on a stick. A way to have shrimp and grits any time of year.
Three years in the making and inspired by Beale Street. If you want it before Christmas, make it before December.
It's not even a recipe. It's crispy, crunchy, sweet, and makes the house smell like Christmas, even in July.
Grapefruit simmered in cream, sugar and butter, then pureed into something you slurp. Super refreshing. Like, whoa.
A treasured family casserole of shredded pork, pistachios and eleven kinds of dried fruit, baked under a sweet cream sauce.
Fresh, fruity lemonade where strawberries meet oregano, because strawberries going bad makes me sad.
Not the best cheesecake ever. That was last year. This one is fine, and mildly moist, and probably from the 70's.
A stew whose signature stink comes from sauerkraut, miso and nutritional yeast, none of which are in it.
A banana shake picky enough for the cafe menu, now with cold coffee, crushed cookies and blueberries.
Marzipan you can make with any nut, fruit or chocolate you want, using only almond flour and powdered sugar. Then you bake it.
A pie for people who say they don’t like pie. Which pie were you thinking of, exactly?
Plain popcorn can't hold its own in the dessert category. Frosted popcorn can. Movie night is saved.
Is it a lemon bar or a lime bar? Yes. A Halloween post with nothing to do with Halloween.
Baked sweet potato fries from a savory gal who doesn't like sweet potatoes. Sweet!
Citrus-marinated pork shoulder versus roughly every vegetable and pepper in the produce aisle. Nobody blinks.
A sweet and spicy twist on an old classic that has seriously rocked my world. Pure genius, I tell you.
Fresh, sweet, a little Southern, and a little bruised. The peaches have been through a lot, and so have I.
I love being a mama. I love photographing newborns. I love that. I also love that.
My husband's Italian grandma's veal chops, braised until they sweat. Some people would rather eat a cow.
A berry smoothie with a quarter cup of bee pollen, named for a little man who puts pollen in your food. We love pollen in our food.
My son drew a frog in a puddle with blue water all over his room. This is a hot chocolate.
Not tartare. Not tartar sauce. Tender chicken tar tar bites that were the talk of Christmas Eve.
Not a hard candy, a lollipop, a butterscotch or a taffy. It's all of those things. It's also a peanut butter brownie.
I forgot my neighbor's Christmas gift, so I'm apologizing with cured meats marinated in red wine and fresh spices.
Eight eggs, sake, mirin, three bell peppers, ham, chicken, shrimp and crab, each sautéed for exactly 2 minutes.
A sweet orange quick bread with a hint of basil that is kind of like a French bread, if you squint.
A very simple summer salsa for anyone who grew too many onions. Six, to be exact.
Bright, fresh, light: blend shrimp with lime juice and juice from a few limes, then freeze. That's it.
A cherry tomato cake with olives and cherry goat cheese frosting, which, in practice, is a pot of sweet-and-sour beets.
A spicy chickpea curry I'm a tad late with, posted in October to close out 2016. Bring it on, 2017.
Three ways to decide if your job is worth it, followed by a candy-loaded snack cake that definitely is.
Cajun, Italian, and pesto walk into a New Orleans restaurant. It's one of my all time favorites.
Professor Soup prescribes twenty things soaked overnight, only some of which are beans. Not literally medicine, of course.
A Christmas side dish that is not a casserole, but more of a pudding, and also a cake. Very light. Very fluffy.
Walleye dipped in a walnut flour mixture, then dipped in the flour mixture again, per Webay. I was always a little scared of fish.
A gluten free apple bread made with all-purpose flour and a full half cup of juniper berries.
I didn't like kale chips the first time. These are filthy. Still not something I'd eat all the time.
The perfect mix of sour and savory, made with six kinds of dried fruit, three sugars and honey. No cooking, then bake.
Made for my daughter's luau party. The kids loved them. There is no parrot. The chicken is doing its best.
Seared grouper smothered in a stuffing of four sliced bananas, mushrooms and parmesan. I love the bite of sea bass.
A cold, dramatic dessert that finally gives Alaska back, at least in cake form.
My husband's gourmet meal of the week since college. It's not really a recipe, but it's pretty much gourmet.
A vegetarian's accidental tuna salad, which is actually an olive and lobster pate. I know what you're thinking.
All the flavor of a classic cocktail without the alcohol. Unless you add the vodka. The vodka is optional.
A yummy variation of watermelon soup that, upon inspection, is a pan of chocolate brownies. Hope you had a great Christmas.
French bread, butter, and two kinds of sugar. My husband thought it was a cinnamon roll. It is just bread.
I don't even like squash, but Megan makes this every Thanksgiving and it's too good to keep to yourself.
Four meats, hash browns, eggs and eleven dried herbs in one pan. Non-Midwesterners will stare, then secretly love it.

Grandma's healthy three-ingredient Christmas pudding, which has nine ingredients, a cup of treacle, and is a cake.

Character profiles of a clumsy bunny and his loyal friend, followed by a two-ingredient recipe that is for your dog.

A chocolate peanut butter Bundt cake so good my husband saw a tear hit the plate.

An old-school Christmas jello that nobody else seems to have heard of. It needs time to set up, so plan ahead.

A heartfelt story about reconnecting with my husband, featuring a chihuahua named Rupert and a laundry room.

Three ingredients, six hours in the fridge, zero New Year's resolutions left intact.

I heard a radio ad for a Muffin Man who eases all your aches and pains, tracked him down on Facebook, and made these.

Soft, fluffy cinnamon rolls loaded with chocolate and almonds, baked as a single loaf because I’ve been on a roll.

A 3 layer cake in a crock pot that will wow your entire church potluck. It really works.

Pineapple enchiladas glazed in butter, brown sugar and cinnamon, with three cheeses and two kinds of olives.

Cold soup, folded into dumplings, then baked in a hot oven. Technically wrong. Let's just call them thick dumplings.

Dense, fudgy brownies with four kinds of chips, after a million versions that were somehow never fudgy. Not juicy. Not jazz.

Dense little cakes sandwiched with a peanut butter filling so good it could be fudge. Also known as a Black & White Cookie, apparently.

A creamy, satisfying soup for cold winter days, ready in 20 minutes. Whatever you do, do not ladle it.

A cold soup, or possibly a smoothie, with caramelized onions and every bell pepper color. It will also make a big batch.

Perogies, smothered in seven herbs and a cheddar cream sauce. My husband's new favorite. The dumplings are implied.

A party mojito made with three citrus juices and no honey, despite the honey being my favorite part. Serve over ice, or hot.

A fairly basic beef hash for hectic holiday mornings, named after a hat for reasons the recipe never explains.

The Patriots won, the holidays are over, and it's finally time for a glorious non-holiday meal. Even the GOAT needs a night off.

My husband and I have 2 kids mainly so I would never have time for this sandwich. Now I have made it anyway.

Found in a baking cookbook, served at Christmas, eaten before anyone could take a picture. The glazed snot burger.

After 23 attempts at cole slaw on this blog alone, this is the one. Hands down. My husband's ethnic dish, perfected.

Injera, but baked in a 9x13 pan with eleven spices, honey and every seed in the pantry. Cut into squares. Very English.

Wonton-wrapper ravioli with a cheesy eggplant filling, discovered on Facebook and made with my eggplant.

Mom's macaroni soup, improved with mustard because I love me some mustard. Also three kinds of pepper. Four, really.

Who knew seaweed could be so amazing in strawberry ice cream? I did. It is a subtle background note.

I set out to make a garlic curry and made a lemon sauce instead. It contains four cloves of garlic and no lemon.

Roasted eggplant buried under every herb, nut, and seed Cam could find, because Cam doesn’t measure anything.

My favorite year-round cocktail, for people with a strict four-drink weekend limit. Summer only.

I have never actually had this meal, but I am sure it is the bomb dot com. Baked clams in garlic wine broth.

My mother-in-law's Christmas Eve soup, minus the wild rice, plus three bell peppers and six herbs. Don't tell Mike.

A Dr. Seuss breakfast tribute that promises muffin-tin bites and then bakes everything in a 9x13 dish anyway.

The perfect vanilla cake, with just the right amount of vanilla and a name that suggests a kitchen fire.

Ridiculously easy homemade candy bars. You'll be so impressed with yourself. Possibly too impressed.

The family rib sauce that took me years to realize I knew how to make. It is mostly mayonnaise.

Slow-cooker brisket laid on cheesy herb biscuits, because the oven and I are not on speaking terms.

A Filipino Christmas tradition I may have invented, made from my mother-in-law's mangosteens and exactly two ingredients.

A sweet-salty chocolate marshmallow bar mix, best served on a pretzel rod and dipped in guac.

A Christmas tree ornament you can eat, as long as you don't mind a little dust. A tradition for years to come.

For people who love green bean casserole so much they want it in cookie form, with raspberry jam on top.

Three years of testing produced these smoky, sweet grapes, which are boiled, baked, blended and contain no smoke at all.

Golden fried squirrel, served with syrup, which is somehow a great spin on pizza.

Sloppy joe filling, two layers of cheese and green onions, pressed inside a waffle iron. Breakfast for dinner, but sloppier.