Dessert Recipes

This was supposed to be a pecan pie. I mean, a proper one, with a buttery, from-scratch crust that I’d carefully crimp and blind bake. … Read more

I wasn’t expecting baking advice from my plumber, but there I was, sitting on the floor of my kitchen with a wrench in one hand … Read more

It was 11:47 PM on a random Wednesday, and I was wide awake with a craving that made absolutely no sense for the hour. I … Read more

This was supposed to be a batch of perfectly round, uniform chocolate chip cookies for my niece’s Halloween party. I had everything planned out—the butter … Read more

My neighbor Karen wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I’d stopped by to borrow her kitchen scale—mine had given up the ghost, pun absolutely intended—and this … Read more

I wasn’t expecting baking advice from a seven-year-old dressed as a tiny vampire, but there I was, at a Halloween block party, watching him explain … Read more

I was standing in the baking aisle of our local grocery store last October, staring at a display of candy eyeballs, when the strangest thing … Read more

Tuesday morning, 8:47 AM. My phone buzzed with a text from my friend Mariana: “Day of the Dead altar potluck is THIS Saturday. I’m bringing … Read more

There used to be a tiny bakery tucked between a vintage bookstore and a laundromat on the edge of downtown that made the most incredible … Read more

Jen wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I’d stopped by her place on a random Tuesday evening to drop off a book I’d borrowed, and the … Read more

This was supposed to be a fancy layered tiramisu. I had the mascarpone, the espresso, the ladyfingers—the whole nine yards. It was the night before … Read more

It was 11:47 PM on a random Tuesday, and I was hit with a craving for something warm, sweet, and wrapped in pastry. I didn’t … Read more

It was 10:47 PM on a Thursday, and I was hit with the weirdest craving for something crunchy, salty-sweet, and—honestly—kind of ridiculous. I didn’t have … Read more

Last October, I was standing at the checkout counter at our local grocery store, and the woman behind me—a retired art teacher named Gloria—watched me … Read more

The crackly top, and that’s the whole point. Not the gooey center, not the browned butter flavor, not even the pools of melted chocolate. I … Read more

I want a funfetti cake that doesn’t require me to stand there with a piping bag for forty-five minutes, and I want it now. That’s … Read more

There used to be this tiny orchard stand off Route 9 in upstate New York — just a rickety wooden counter and a chalkboard menu … Read more

“Did you brown the butter?” my sister asked, peering over my shoulder at the mixing bowl. I hadn’t. Not yet. But that one question changed … Read more

Jo wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I’d stopped by her place last October to pick up a book I’d lent her—some thriller I’d been wanting … Read more

I was supposed to be making a simple apple crumble. That was the plan. My neighbor, bless her heart, had dropped off a bag of … Read more