Posts Tagged ‘side dish’

The husband was born in raised in South Carolina. I’m talking lived there his whole life (minus 3ish months in Nashville) until I came along and blew it all to hell. Hashtag whoops.

Not only is he born and raised South Carolina, 99% of his entire family is as well. And that, kids, means I hear a lot about his grandmother’s cooking. Particularly her cornbread and buttermilk biscuits.

As it turns out, my mama didn’t raise no fool so every time he’d wax on about how amazing his grandmother’s cooking was, I’d just smile and nod with absolutely zero intention of ever trying to attempt anything he mentioned. Until now.

Somehow the husband persuaded me to try buttermilk biscuits. I warned him they would probably be nothing like his grandmother’s, but homeboy was desperate.


Nailed It/Failed It: Southern Buttermilk Biscuits


Clearly we learned why Yankees don’t make buttermilk biscuits. Not that these weren’t tasty – they were just a little tough. And, you know, a lot flat.

I suspect the toughness comes from the folding (which I would skip altogether next time now that I know the husband’s grandmother would make these as drop biscuits). I have no idea where the flatness comes from (although looking at the recipe again, the baking powder seems like brand new information which would maybe explain a lot). But, as we discovered, if you stack 2 on top of each other, they’re exactly the right height.





Original recipe from


Here’s the thing about PastaRoni – I can eat the entire box in one sitting. (I should probably feel more shame for that statement than I do.) But as much as I love it, it’s incredibly bad for you. I didn’t used to get skeeved out by the powdered flavor packet, but now that I’m aware of how chock full of chemicals that things is, I just can’t do it. So when I stumbled upon this PastaRoni wannabe, I got stupid excited. I got even more stupid excited when I realized it really doesn’t take any longer – or any more effort – than my beloved box.


Nailed It/Failed It: Angel Hair Pasta with Garlic Herb Sauce


Nailed it. Turns out I can eat a ridiculous amount of this in one sitting, too. No shame.


I used thin spaghetti instead of angel hair because whole wheat angel hair does not exist in Joplin, Missouri. And I used a combination of rosemary, thyme, and oregano and skipped the red pepper. I should probably also mention that I didn’t actually measure anything out because ain’t nobody got time for that.






Original recipe from Simply Recipes.

Growing up, we lived 4-5 hours from my grandparents (it depended on traffic as we were leaving Chicagoland). Consequently, we spent every major holiday with them – either at our house or at theirs. Spending the holiday at my grandparents’ house involved my two sisters and I sharing a room. This always resulted in either a) much giggling, or b) much fighting. Occasionally, however, it would involve both a and b. Like the night my youngest sister would not stop singing the Rice A Roni jingle.

Homemade Rice A Roni(pinned here)

Homemade Rice A Roni


Nailed it. I’m normally hesitant of homemade rice recipes because they’re typically very bland. But for some reason I decided to give it a whirl anyway, and I’m glad I did. I suggested maybe adding an herb next time, but the husband told me I should leave it alone.


As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’ve got a lot of noodle action going on up there. That’s because I didn’t have as much rice (I used brown) as I thought I did. I ended up with just under 3/4 cup of rice and used noodles (thin spaghetti) to fill. It worked.

Original Recipe from a {modern} christian woman.

Somehow it’s been a year since the husband and I came home to this:

ApartmentYes, the tornado actually hit a year ago yesterday (May 22), but we were in Kansas City that day and unable to get into Joplin and our apartment until the 23rd. Obviously we didn’t sleep much that night.

Yesterday was an interesting day. The city did a great job with the Walk of Unity which was followed by the Day of Unity memorial service. We didn’t stay for the service, but the Walk of Unity had a strong celebratory feel to it (all 3.7 miles of it – yes, my feet are still tired) which I thought was perfectly fitting as we made stops along the way to raise a steeple, break ground at the high school, and re-open a business. It also made me reflect on just how chaotic this time last year was. I really just wanted 2 things – to go home and to make dinner. Of course, I could do neither. But this year I could. And once we finished the walk, that’s exactly what I did.

Broiled Zucchini & Potatoes(pinned here)

Broiled Zucchini & Potatoes


Failed it and nailed it. Makes perfect sense, I know. Obviously mine got a bit charred. Oddly enough that didn’t happen during the broiling – it happened in the pan. Maybe you’re supposed to flip them during the 12-15 minutes? All I know is they were rather charred which made me think the Parmesan was an attempt to cover that up. Regardless, it was delicious.


Clearly I didn’t include potatoes. I did, however, add in some summer squash with the zucchini.

Original recipe from Cooking Channel.

The majority of my 28 years have been spent loathing tomatoes. I would pick around them, take them off, or end my order with “and no tomato”. My dad making spaghetti was always bad news bears – his version didn’t involve Ragu like my mom’s so much as chunks of tomatoes in the sauce. I would opt to subsist on naked noodles or bread and butter that night.

And then about a year ago, it all changed. I have no idea what happened (maybe my husband smacked me upside the head while we were sleeping?), but I suddenly loved tomatoes. Now they’re on my pizzas, my wraps, and straight up devoured them like this.

Baked Parmesan Tomatoes(pinned here)

Baked Parmesan Tomatoes


Holy balls these are amazing. If I’d had more tomatoes, I would have baked them all. But instead I went grocery shopping and made them again two days later.


I did the Parmesan version like the recipe said, but I also did a version with mozzarella and basil. It, too, was quite heavenly.

Original recipe from Eating Well