Last Supper

I am writing to you from sanctuary house, a place I sometimes think I wished into existence. During the last few years, I lived in a dark little duplex that was a source of paranoia and harbor for bad memories. One day, I was at my friend Sarah Norris’ house and she asked me to write down what my house should be, as though it already was. “My house is a welcoming place of solace,” I scribbled. Three months later, my life had fallen apart and I woke up in my Chattanooga, TN rental house with the realization that it was an actual sanctuary- cathedral ceilings, a light-up cross hung where I couldn’t get it down, and mosaic alters in the kitchen and bathroom. A welcoming place of solace for me as I put the pieces back together, a place for long baths and late night reading, a place where no one could stop me from leaving my Christmas tree up in my bedroom until Valentine’s Day.

The time for us to part is quickly approaching. I am sorry to leave you, sanctuary house. I am sorry I cannot stop your next owner from ruining you with neutral colors and floors that are easy to clean. I am sorry they probably will not love your army of chipmunks, thieving rabbits, overly-friendly opossums or artistic spiders in the way I have. This year at the Thanksgiving table, I will say, I am thankful for my little house and the rest it has given me.

This will be my last meal in Sanctuary House before moving out on Saturday. As you can see from the recipe below, I stretched one pound of meat with handfuls of other things to feed four people, twice. It’s full of all the ingredients I’m trying to use up from my pantry and freezer. I’ll cook it in one 10.25” pan because Sanctuary House has a tiny oven and no dishwasher. Then I’ll move on to another place I will not stay and another, and another (that’s a fancy way of saying I’m a bit homeless in December). On January 1, I move into a place that is like a cabin dollhouse. I’ve decided to call it Little House in the Big Yard after Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book and nomadic life.


Special thanks to my Mom, who did the prop styling for these photos because all my props are already packed away!

Meatballs and Grains

-serves 4, twice

Here are the things you absolutely need:
1 pound meat (I used lamb. Use whatever as long as it’s not too lean)
1 pound frozen spinach (you can use whatever greens you have cooked and chopped, as long as you squeeze the liquid out of them)
1/2 cup medium grind cornmeal
2T buttermilk or yogurt
1 t kosher salt
1 large egg
whole grains such as farro, barley or quinoa
chicken stock

Here are the flavorings I used, but you can sub in what you have/like:
1/2 cup crumbled sheep’s milk feta
zest of one lemon
1/3 cup roughly chopped walnuts
several large pinches finely chopped rosemary

**Half these meatballs will totally fit in a 10.25” skillet, but you won’t get much farro in there with them. If you have a regular sized oven, go ahead and make half the meatballs in a 12” pan.

1. Mix everything but the meat together until it is well incorporated. Form 1.5” balls (that’s about 36g each). You’ll get between 25 and 30 meatballs, depending on your flavorings.
2. Preheat oven to 350.
3. Set aside half the meatballs, some grains and some stock for a super easy meal later. Get a skillet** nice a hot over medium high and add 2T neutral oil. Brown the remaining meatballs on the top and bottom, pressing them down so they’re a little flat.
4. Pour chicken stock in the pan until the meatballs are liiiike 80% submerged. Bring it to a simmer.
5. Cover as tightly as possible and bake. You’re going to bake them for 30 minutes total and add the grains in at a point that you will determine by their cooking needs. So for example, I used soaked farro, which should cook in 10-15 minutes- I added it to the meatballs pan 15 minutes through cooking. I don’t worry too much about measuring out the grains. If you put too many in there, you can always add some extra stock later. Just eyeball a 1:2 grains:liquid ratio.
6. Cover the pan back up and finish baking. Serve with dollops of yogurt.


Stress Baking Cake

Remember when I said I was going to lean into the Fall baking craze real hard? Never a better time to do it than the week of an election.

Today I tested what I thought was going to be an extremely Pinteresty-in-a-bad-way kind of baked good. See, I had all these homemade candied ginger marshmallows leftover from my Native Field Trip dinner, plus jars and jars of pumpkin puree leftover from various Fall things. And my brain isn’t exactly functioning at 100% after a week of political ups and downs (you’re a fucking goose feather pillow, Marsha Blackburn) so I set out to make the most obvious thing I could think of: Gingery Pumpkin S’mores Swirl Cake. It turned out tender and toasty, chocolatey and rich, with pops of spicy ginger. Every bit good enough to be worthy of replacing a Thanksgiving pumpkin pie. I’d suggest that you serve it with a dollop of boozy whipped cream- something with a little bite to cut its richness. Me, I’ll probably just eat it for breakfast like the sugar fiend Maggie Pate turned me into this year.

A couple notes: homemade marshmallows are likely to disintegrate into the cake batter. Burn the living heck out of them carefully to get that toasted campfire taste of a s’more. Or use store-bought ones alongside little pieces of candied ginger coated in flour with the chopped chocolate.

Gingery Pumpkin S’mores Swirl Cake
-serves 8

1/2 cup neutral oil
2 large eggs
1 1/3 cup raw cane sugar
1 cup homemade pumpkin puree
1/3 cup water or unsweetened ginger tea
1 3/4 cup AP flour, + 1 Tablespoon for dusting chocolate
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 of a batch Ina’s marshmallows with 1 heaping cup finely chopped candied ginger mixed in
1 3.5 ounce bar dark chocolate
2 graham crackers (optional)
9”x5” loaf pan

1. Get everything into place: cut marshmallows into pieces that are about 1/2” tall and line them up on parchment paper. Grease and lightly flour your loaf pan all the way to the top. Roughly chop dark chocolate and toss it with 1T flour until coated. Set over to broil on high.
2. Make the batter: mix the first five ingredients together until smooth. In a small bowl, whisk together flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder. Gradually add the dry ingredients into the wet until no lumps remain.
3. Carefully, so so so very carefully- never taking your eyes off them- broil your marshmallows. They will catch on fire in an instant! Make sure the whole surface is very dark. Set your oven to 350.
4. While the marshmallows are still warm, swirl them into the pan with the batter and chocolate in three layers, beginning and ending with batter. Crumble graham crackers on top.
5. Bake for 60-80 minutes, or until the loaf is a beautiful shade of brown and no longer wobbles in the middle.
6. Cool for at least 25 minutes before serving.

November Salad

Two weeks ago, my friend Susannah Felts gave me the most sparse Pantry Raid answer I have received yet: pumpkin puree, breadcrumbs. And as I was typing out my reply, I knew I was sold on my own idea. I had to make this salad. Two other friends made it before me and confirmed my suspicion: it’s excellent.


I took one cup winter squash puree- butternut to be specific- and put it in a blender with about 1/2 cup tahini, 1T water, the juice of a meyer lemon, roughly 2t honey and plenty of salt. That’s what the salad will sit on top of, but you can also throw in something with a kick to make turn it into a great crudite dip. It’s so sweet and creamy, you really can’t get enough acid or salt or crunch on top of it. So I tossed arugula in the juice of a regular lemon with a splash of olive oil, then added generous fistfuls of lightly toasted, salted pumpkin seeds and shavings of Sequatchie Cove Creamery Gruteli (parmesan or feta would do nicely too). Finally, and this is really the best part, I finished it all off with sourdough breadcrumbs crisped in a pan with plenty of salted butter.

It’s a salad easy enough to brighten up a dreary weekday lunch and stunning enough to bring to a Thanksgiving potluck.

Six ingredient Glazed Chicken & Vegetables

I made this wonderful thing by total mindless accident two weekends ago. It’s great right out of the pan. It’s even better reheated the next day. It’s the best when finished lazily over a campfire, as I discovered while making it again this weekend. You start with six ingredients and end up with the most perfectly glazed, fall-off-the-bone tender chicken over caramelized vegetables.


All you need is:
as many bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs or legs as will fit in your cast iron skillet
a cast iron skillet
two large, roughly chopped shallots
some apple cider (I like the cloudy kind best)
a spoonful of brown sugar- think like, a scant Tablespoon
a spoonful of whatever hot sauce you’re working on (right now I have some made of chiles de arbol from Masfresco, which is pretty pungent so I only used 1 teaspoon)
roughly chopped, sturdy vegetables such as kale, cabbage, cauliflower, or carrots.

I had half a large purple cabbage on hand both times. I know cabbage isn’t the most glamorous of vegetables, but damn, if this isn’t the way to eat it.

Preheat the oven to 300. Start by patting your chicken dry and giving it a good coating of kosher salt. Put it in a cold, dry skillet, skin side down and turn the heat to medium. Render the fat out slowly. When the skin is golden brown, flip it over and add quartered shallots to cook in the fat for a minute or two.

Pour in cider until it comes about halfway up the chicken, then stir in the sugar, hot sauce and another pinch of salt. You could also add a couple cloves, star anise, bay leaf, or white peppercorns at this point if you have them. Spoon a little of the sauce over the chicken, cover the pan with tin foil and bake for at least an hour and 15 mintues, or until the chicken is very tender.

If you’re going the campfire route, simply do the next steps outside.

Okay, now remove the chicken from the pan and start boiling the cooking liquid over high until it has reduced by at least half, but ideally 2/3. Throw in your vegetables and continue cooking over high until a glaze forms, about ten minutes. Remove the vegetables from the pan, turn the heat down a little, and finish the chicken skin side down in the glaze.