Eggs Florentine, Benedict, and Arnold. Sorta sounds more like a network of Revolutionary War spies than a brunch menu, yes?
Sweet tea. Whiskey. Lemon juice. That’s all it takes to make a sassy summertime cocktail you’ll want to sip all afternoon long.
We’re not going to do a song and dance to try to entice you to bake this cherry pie. We don’t need to. Just look at it. A stunner, right? And wait’ll you taste it. Here’s how to make it.
We’re thinking about petitioning for the word “julep” to officially function as a verb as well as a noun. Julep us!
Baked chicken wings? As in, chicken wings without the butter, deep-frying, or grease-splattered stovetop? Count us in.
“I’ve actually had friends lift their gratin dish and lick it clean—right at the table!” says David Lebovitz. We’ll have one of those. Actually, we’ll have two.
Proof that it doesn’t take buttermilk or an insufferably long overnight brine to make insanely tender, crazily crisp, gosh darn perfect fried chicken.
Hot enough to make you holler. That’s how they like their fried chicken in Nashville. Who are we to argue?
The curious name of these insanely can’t-stop-eating-these sweet and salty cookies hints at how you toss in whatever this and that you have on hand to create awesomeness.
Barely a recipe, this weeknight salvation of sausage and broccoli rabe is more like a simple blueprint for eating in season. Amen to that.