My mother makes the best cranberry sauce in the world, but that’s not the recipe I’m sharing today.* Sorry to disappoint.
*Just kidding! I wrote her original recipe in the notes at the end. It’s a Thanksgiving two-fer 🙂
I have a good reason for holding out on you. My mom’s cranberry sauce is made with a large amount of brandy, which gets cooked off over the course of an hour in the oven. As I have mentioned previously though, I cannot safely consume alcohol, and therefore do not keep it around, even for cooking.
Since I quit drinking five and a half years ago, cranberry sauce is one of the only dishes that I have really missed. I’ve found work-arounds or substitutes for all sorts of other recipes, but I just couldn’t find one that hit all the same buttons as my mom’s.
In case you’re wondering, those buttons include:
- It’s gotta be whole berry. No weird can-shaped cranberry jello here.
- It can’t have more than three ingredients. I’ve had cranberry sauces with nuts and spices and other fruits and all sorts of other silliness, and all of it was completely unnecessary.
- It shouldn’t have any citrus. Orange and cranberry are complementary flavors, but I can’t stand them together in cranberry sauce. This is more of a personal preference than anything, but I mean, this is my personal food blog.
- It can’t be too sweet. I hate when cranberries are so over-sweetened that their natural tartness is completely masked.
- It has to be easy. Like ridiculously easy. So low-maintenance, it’s silly. And if it can be made more than a day ahead, that’s ideal.
- If nothing else, it must be so delicious that I want to eat it every time I spot the jar in the fridge.

It’s taken a few years and many sauces with unrecognizable berries, too much sugar, flavors I didn’t care for, and a lot of feeling sorry for myself, but I’ve finally made a cranberry sauce that hits all those buttons. And the missing ingredient was looking at me the whole time in the form of a seasonal fridge staple: apple cider. It has flavor, but not enough to overwhelm the cranberries, and it’s sweet without being saccharine. Perfection.
This sauce comes together over the course of an hour in the oven. It gets stirred twice, but needs no help otherwise.
The result is soft, bursting berries that slump into a sweet, sticky sauce. It’s just divine. As is the fact that it can be made today and nuked in the microwave just before you sit down to Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, it’s probably even better that way. Love that.
Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.
Want more cranberries? See here and here. For more apple cider, see here and here.
Apple Cider Cranberry Sauce*
makes about 3 cups
2 12-ounce bags whole cranberries
1 cup apple cider
1/2 cup granulated sugar
Preheat oven to 350F.
Combine all ingredients in a 9×13-inch casserole dish and stir together. Bake 60 minutes, stirring every 20 minutes.
Remove sauce from oven. Cool for a few minutes before transferring to a serving dish. Serve.
Cranberry sauce may be made up to two days in advance; it reheats well in the microwave.
Note:
If you want to try my mom’s cranberry sauce, swap the cider for brandy and double the sugar. Everything else is the same.



I don’t spend much time writing about vegetables, seeing as this is a baking blog and all.
But the truth is that I eat a lot of vegetables. A lot. Gotta balance out all the baked goods somehow, you know?
These Caramelized Brussels Sprouts are one of my fall/winter favorites. They’re basically your standard roasted brussels sprouts with the volume turned up. Plus, they’re super easy to make and have this sweet-salty-herby-spicy thing going on that makes them totally irresistible. Like, good luck getting them from the pan to the table without eating half the batch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I make Caramelized Brussels Sprouts for regular weeknights all the time, but they’re also great for dinner parties and holidays. I made them for Christmas dinner last year and they were a huge hit with my whole family! I can’t help but think they’d make a great Thanksgiving side dish, too.
Caramelized Brussels Sprouts are very simple to make. Start by trimming the brussels sprouts and removing any banged-up outer leaves. There’s no need to slice them in half—minimal prep is the name of the game!
Put the sprouts on a baking sheet and toss ‘em with fresh rosemary, red pepper flakes, salt, a little sugar, and olive oil.
Roast the brussels sprouts for 40 minutes, giving the pan a good shake every 15 minutes. The resulting sprouts will have deeply browned (but not burnt!), crispy exteriors and buttery-soft centers.
Remember that “sweet-salty-herby-spicy” thing? Well, add “crispy-buttery.”
And maybe “-things-dreams-are-made-of.”



I repeat recipes so infrequently that this is only the third time I’ve made this Chorizo Cornbread since discovering it three years ago. It came to be during a late-January snowstorm that was billed as the storm of the century (as all of them are), but was wholly unremarkable.
Except for the cornbread. That part was pretty memorable. Especially the near-perfect breakfast sandwich I made with the leftovers.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Before we talk about leftovers or magnificent fried egg sandwiches, let’s talk about how good salty, savory chorizo is when it’s enveloped in a barely-sweet piece of cornbread. Because it’s really, really good.
It’s easy too—this recipe takes just about an hour from the time you start browning the chorizo to the time you pull the finished cornbread from the oven. You won’t need a mixer or anything more than a bowl and a silicone spatula either 🙂
Start by browning eight ounces of raw chorizo and sautéing some diced onion and minced garlic in the rendered fat.
Mix together some yellow cornmeal, baking powder, salt, and a couple of tablespoons of sugar. I don’t usually add sugar to my 
Toss the chorizo, onion, and garlic with the dry ingredients. This allows some of the baking powder to adhere to the meat and keeps it from sinking to the bottom of the finished cornbread.
Add some milk, sour cream, and eggs…
…followed by some melted butter.
Spread it all into a parchment-lined pan…
…and bake until browned and a little, uh, dimply.
Slice it into pieces while it’s still warm. I like my Chorizo Cornbread served alongside a kale salad or with a vegetable soup or even just by itself, with or without a pat of butter.
But like I said, the best way to enjoy this Chorizo Cornbread is to sandwich your slice with a runny egg.
You can leave it simple (like I did) or jazz it up with cheese and greens and a big hit of sriracha. Either way, it’s basically the best egg sandwich ever.
Have a great weekend, y’all.

My sister, 
























