Long before bacon and eggs settled into their place on the American breakfast table, the combination had already found a home in European kitchens. Quiche Lorraine, with its rich custard of eggs, cream, and bacon, is one of the best-known examples. It’s a reminder that what we think of as “our” breakfast has deeper roots—and that good ideas in the kitchen tend to travel well.
At some point, breakfast had to get out the door. What began as a sit-down meal made its way into paper wrappers and drive-thru windows. The bacon and egg sandwich is the natural evolution of the plate—same ingredients, same flavors, just built for a faster pace.
There was a time when bacon and eggs were not breakfast—they were simply food. But somewhere along the way, they became the American morning meal. This is the version most of us grew up with. Nothing fancy, nothing dressed up—just a hot skillet, a few good ingredients, and a way of starting the day that feels like it has always been there.
The fresh milk rested covered on the table allowing the cream to rise slowly to the top. It was then skimmed off, placed into a stoneware butter churn, where it was churned until soft yellow clumps gathered against the wooden dasher. The butter was scooped, washed, and saved in a bowl. The thin, slightly tangy, leftover liquid was traditional buttermilk grandma used for baking.
These biscuits trace back through my maternal grandmother, who learned to make them at her mother’s side—long before buttermilk came in cartons. In those days, it was the thin, fresh liquid left behind after churning butter, and it gave these biscuits a lightness and flavor that’s hard to forget.
This salmon recipe does not attempt to recreate the sacred preparations of our Native Americans. Instead, it borrows from the simple wisdom of cooking salmon over cedar, allowing smoke and wood to deepen its natural richness–food both rooted and relevant.
This bread brings those two native ingredients together in a way that feels both old and new: earthy acorn flour balanced by the honeyed depth of American persimmons. It is not a recreation of any single tribal preparation, but rather a respectful nod to the flavors that once defined this continent’s fall harvest.
This pemmican recipe follows the traditional method while adapting it for the modern kitchen. It is dense, rich, and sustaining—food meant to be respected rather than rushed.
Despite the name, these charming little sweets contain no potatoes at all. Instead, they’re smooth, coconut-studded confections rolled in cinnamon so they resemble tiny potatoes. Irish potato candies are a beloved seasonal treat found in Philadelphia candy shops around St. Patrick’s Day—a sweet example of how Irish-American traditions sometimes take on a life of their own.
Like many traditional dishes, the recipe for Irish coddle varies widely from family to family. Born in eighteenth-century Dublin, it’s very much a grab-what-you-have kind of stew that simmers low and slow to peak deliciousness. The building blocks of the dish—bacon, sausage, onions, potatoes, and plenty of parsley and black pepper—add up to more than the sum of their parts, creating a dark, flavorful broth and a warm bowl of nourishment best enjoyed with slices of soda bread.
These homemade fried pies were a special treat my momma made for me as a child.
These doughnuts are coated with a sugary glaze and taste just like cake doughnuts from your favorite bakery.
Pawpaw preserves are extremely versatile and makes an excellent topping for ice cream and yogurt.