A list of all the recipes Mike S. has tested.
Hmmm. Sweet tea. Whiskey. Lemon juice. Sounds like a sassy summertime take on a hot toddy to us.
We’re not going to do a song and dance to entice you to bake this cherry pie. Nope. We don’t need to. I mean, just look at it.
There are those people who feel a frozen margarita is a lesser margarita. We are not those people.
This gin-spiked sparkling lemonade, perfect for sweltering summer afternoons, is named after an early 19th-century hoax. Honest.
Make no mistake, there are umpteen approaches to frying catfish. None is necessarily right or wrong. But this one is superlative.
Barely a recipe, this weeknight salvation is more like a simple blueprint for eating in season. Amen to that.
We’re thinking about petitioning for the word “julep” to officially function as a verb as well as a noun. Julep us!
Hot enough to make you holler. That’s how they like their fried chicken in Nashville. Who are we to argue?
Eggs Florentine, Benedict, and Arnold. Sorta sounds more like a network of Revolutionary War spies than a brunch menu, yes?
Know that little ditty about how some poor hungry soul’s meatballs were lost when somebody sneezed? It always makes us sad.
With its crisp, nubbly coating and moist, insanely tender meat, this is fried chicken perfection. Finger lickin’ good.
A simple, clean break from tradition, this marg eschews cloying Cointreau in lieu of a splash of sweet agave.
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