Ok, my beautiful friends, you know that if I'm not reading a cookbook, I’m probably elbow-deep in a cozy mystery. I fully—and I mean fully—dream of opening a charming little bookstore/bakery in a small town where I casually recommend scones and solve the occasional murder between batches of dough. It’s a vibe. A lifestyle. A calling, honestly.

Now, let’s ignore for a second that I
a) do not live in a small town,
b) do not own a bookstore or a bakery, and
c) barely made it out of an escape room in the allotted hour (I DID make it out though, and I feel like that deserves recognition).

Instead, let’s lean in.

Picture this: my fictional bookstore/bakery. There’s a bell on the door that dings in the most satisfying way. There’s a suspiciously quiet man in the corner reading the newspaper. Ivy is perched on a stool-studying for an exam while sipping on a latte, absolutely living her best life. And you? You’re there with me, obviously. We’re sipping coffee, breaking apart these pillowy brioche buns, and whispering theories about who might have whacked Johnson—the very mean gardener. (Honestly, he had it coming. Don’t look at me like that.)

And in our hands? These beauties.

Soft, buttery brioche buns with a little well of lightly sweetened cream cheese, swirled with blackberry jam, and dotted with whole blackberries like they’re auditioning for the cover of a cozy mystery cookbook. They are rich without being too much, sweet but still breakfast-approved (we make the rules here), and just fancy enough to make you feel like you absolutely could solve a crime if needed.

In real life—murder mysteries optional—you need to make these.

---

Brioche Buns with Cream Cheese Filling & Blackberry Jam

Ingredients

For the brioche dough:

• 3 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
• 2 ¼ tsp instant yeast (1 packet)
• ¼ cup granulated sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 4 large eggs, room temp
• ½ cup unsalted butter, very soft
• ¼ cup warm milk

For the cream cheese filling:

• 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 3 tbsp sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

For the topping:

• ½ cup blackberry jam
• 1 cup fresh blackberries
• 1 egg (for egg wash)

---

Instructions

1. Make the dough (aka: trust the process).
In a stand mixer, combine flour, yeast, sugar, and salt. Add eggs and warm milk, and mix until a shaggy dough forms.

Now add that soft butter a little at a time. This will feel chaotic at first—like “this will never come together” chaotic—but give it time. After about 8–10 minutes, it should turn into a smooth, slightly sticky dough that feels rich and soft.

2. First rise.
Place dough in a greased bowl, cover, and let it rise until doubled—about 1–2 hours. Or until you get distracted by a book and go, “Oh right, dough!” (also valid).

3. Make the filling.
Mix cream cheese, sugar, and vanilla until smooth. Try not to eat it straight with a spoon. Or do. I’m not your boss.

4. Shape the buns.
Punch down the dough and divide into 10–12 pieces. Roll each into a ball and place on a lined baking sheet.

Using your fingers or the bottom of a glass, press a little well into the center of each bun.

5. Fill them up.
Add a spoonful of cream cheese filling into each well, then top with a little blackberry jam. Swirl it gently if you’re feeling artistic (or just emotionally stable that day).

Dot each bun with a couple whole blackberries because we are going for cozy mystery chic.

6. Second rise.
Cover and let rise again for about 30–45 minutes, until puffy.

7. Bake.
Preheat oven to 350°F. Brush edges with egg wash for that golden glow.

Bake for 18–22 minutes, until beautifully golden and your kitchen smells like you’ve got your life together.

---

The Charming Detective Solves the Flavor Case

These buns are soft, rich, and just the right amount of indulgent. The cream cheese melts into the brioche, the blackberry jam gets all jammy and perfect, and those little berries on top? Pure main character energy.

Make them for a slow morning. Make them for your people. Make them because you deserve something warm and lovely and just a little bit magical.

And if you do happen to solve a small-town mystery while eating one… please report back. I have theories.

My friends, Mother Nature has lost her ever loving mind. Last week, schools closed because of a late winter storm and as I sit here writing this it’s 80 degrees outside. Later this week, we’re supposed to hit 89. For. REAL!!! Climate change is cray.

Do you know what’s not crazy? Ice cream.

Ice cream is the answer to many a question. Hard day at work? Ice cream. The kids are in Finals Hell in college? Ice cream. The weather is giving you whiplash? You guessed it…ice cream.

And I’ve been obsessing over this flavor for months. Ivy and I shared a cone of salted peanut butter ice cream at Union Station a couple of months ago and I said to myself, “self—you need to figure out how to make this, because you can’t just drive downtown once a week and spend $20 on ice cream. Not in this economy!”

So I got to work.

Now, the next version of this will totally happen in my ice cream maker (because apparently I enjoy creating more dishes for myself), but for now I’m going to stare 89 right in the eye and take a big fat lick of this ice cream. No churn, no fuss, no fancy equipment—just vibes and a slightly unhinged determination to not melt into a puddle.

It’s sweet. It’s salty. It’s peanut butter and frankly, I don’t care what the temperature is. I’m going to be eating this year round.

And you should too.

Salted Peanut Butter No-Churn Ice Cream with Peanut Butter Cups

Ingredients

• 2 cups heavy whipping cream, cold
• 1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk
• 3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2–1 teaspoon flaky sea salt (to taste)
• 1 cup chopped peanut butter cups (plus extra for topping because we’re not quitters)

Instructions

1. Whip it real good
   In a large bowl, whip the heavy cream until stiff peaks form. This is your arm workout for the day if you’re doing it by hand. Congratulations, you’re thriving.
2. Make the peanut butter base
   In another bowl, whisk together the sweetened condensed milk, peanut butter, vanilla, and sea salt until smooth and creamy. Try not to eat it straight from the bowl. (Or do. I’m not your mom.)
3. Fold gently
   Fold the whipped cream into the peanut butter mixture in batches. Be gentle here—we’re making ice cream, not punching dough.
4. Add the good stuff
   Fold in the chopped peanut butter cups. Pause to admire your life choices.
5. Freeze
   Pour the mixture into a loaf pan or freezer-safe container. Sprinkle extra peanut butter cups and a little flaky salt on top because we believe in abundance.
6. Wait (the hardest part)
   Freeze for at least 6 hours, or overnight if you have self-control. (I do not.)

Notes from My Slightly Melty Kitchen

• Taste before freezing and adjust salt levels—it should have that sweet-salty magic that makes you go back for “just one more bite” 17 times.
• Let it sit at room temp for 5–10 minutes before scooping so you don’t pull a muscle.
• This is wildly kid-approved, Ivy-tested, and dangerously easy to make on repeat.

So here we are. Weather chaos outside, creamy peanut buttery bliss inside. Honestly, if the forecast is going to keep playing games, I’m just going to lean in and keep a freezer full of ice cream like the emotionally prepared adult I aspire to be.

Stay cool, my friends. Literally.

Oh friend… gather ‘round, because I have a confession and a mission, and both involve chocolate. 

If there’s one thing I can count on Miss Ivy eating almost every single day of the week, it’s some variation of a chocolate chip muffin. Chocolate chip, double chocolate chip… if it’s got chocolate and vaguely resembles a muffin, she’s in. Honestly, it’s one of the few “safe foods” that always works, so I lean in.

But here’s the thing.

She LOVES those big, bakery-style muffins from the grocery store. You know the ones...tall, domed, slightly sparkly tops, wrapped in crinkly paper that somehow makes them taste even better? Yeah. Those.

We have spent… an embarrassing amount of money on those muffins.

And listen, I’m not above a grocery store treat. But at some point, standing there with my receipt and my dignity in tatters, I thought: Christine. You bake bread for fun. You can figure out a muffin.

So here we are.

Meet the Muffins That Might Save My Grocery Budget

These Sourdough Discard Double Chocolate Muffins are my latest attempt to win back both my wallet and my pride. And honestly? They might be the ones.

They’re rich, chocolatey, soft, and just the right amount of indulgent. Plus, they give me an excuse to use up sourdough discard, which makes me feel like the kind of person who has her life together—even if I absolutely do not.

I didn’t make them huge and bakery-style this time (turns out, I do not own the proper liners… shocking), but I did sprinkle a little turbinado sugar on top for that sparkle and crunch. Because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.

And then, in a shocking twist no one saw coming… I ate more of them than Ivy did.

Growth is a journey.

The Secret (That Requires Patience… I Know, I Know)

Here’s the deal. If you want that beautiful, tall, bakery-style muffin rise? The kind that makes you feel like you should be charging $4.75 each?

You’ve got to wait.

Make the batter the night before, cover it, and let it hang out in the fridge overnight. That extra time lets the flour fully hydrate, the flavors deepen, and the batter thicken in the best way.

And the result? Muffins with that gorgeous springy dome and tender crumb.

Trust me—your patience will pay off. (Even if you complain about it the whole time. I did.)

Sourdough Discard Double Chocolate Muffins

Ingredients

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• ½ cup cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon espresso powder
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• ½ teaspoon baking powder
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 2 eggs, room temperature
• ¾ cup sour cream
• ½ cup vegetable oil
• ⅓ cup whole milk
• ⅓ cup sourdough discard (about 100g)
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 ½ cups chocolate chips
• Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling (optional but highly recommended for sparkle )

Instructions

1. Mix the dry ingredients
   In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, espresso powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.
2. Mix the wet ingredients
   In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, sour cream, vegetable oil, milk, sourdough discard, and vanilla extract until smooth.
3. Bring it all together
   Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and gently mix until just combined. Don’t overmix—lumpy batter is your friend here.
4. Add the chocolate chips
   Fold in the chocolate chips like the generous, chocolate-loving person you are.
5. The overnight magic (don’t skip this if you can help it)
   Cover the bowl and place the batter in the fridge overnight.
6. Bake day
   The next day, preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a muffin tin (even if they’re not bakery-sized… we persevere).
7. Fill and sparkle
   Scoop the batter into the muffin cups, filling them about ¾ full. Sprinkle the tops with turbinado sugar.
8. Bake
   Bake for 18–22 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with a few moist crumbs (not wet batter).
9. Cool (or don’t)
   Let them cool for a few minutes… or immediately burn your tongue because you couldn’t wait. Your call.

Will these completely replace the grocery store muffins?

Jury’s still out—Miss Ivy is a tough critic with strong muffin opinions.

But they’re softer, richer, made with ingredients I actually recognize, and significantly easier on the budget. And if I’m being honest… I kind of hope she doesn’t eat all of them.

Because I’d like a few for myself. For research purposes, obviously.

My beautiful friends…you all know me well enough by now to know that I loves me some comfort food. And if you’re new—hey there! Welcome! I’m so glad you’re here, and I really hope you like cheese. A lot of cheese. Possibly an unreasonable amount of cheese.

But I digress.

Ivy’s dad just started a new job (YAAAAAAAAAAYYYY!!!), which is amazing and wonderful and we are so grateful…aaaaand also it has thrown a giant, chaotic wrinkle into our daily routine. Suddenly life feels like a high-stakes game of Tetris, and unfortunately, I am deeply unqualified. Pieces are falling, nothing is fitting, and somehow dinner is supposed to happen every single night??

Rude.

Between getting everyone where they need to be and trying to keep actual humans fed (again, rude), I’ve been leaning hard into freezer meals and make-aheads. Because if Future Me can do Past Me a solid, I’m not going to stand in her way. And since I love you, I want to make your life easier too.

Enter: this Chicken Enchilada Skillet situation. Cozy, cheesy, deeply satisfying, and—most importantly—not trying to ruin your evening.

This recipe is so good and requires just a smidge of planning ahead (or, you know, a last-minute grocery run while whispering “we’ve got this” to yourself in the parking lot). Grab some pre-cooked chicken breast and a batch of homemade enchilada sauce. I love the one from Karrie Truman’s Seriously Good Freezer Meals cookbook—and listen, I know there’s peanut butter in it. I KNOW. Stay with me. Do not knock it until you try it. It’s magic.

But also, if you have a favorite store-bought enchilada sauce? Use it. I don’t judge. This is a safe space.

The real genius here, though? We are not rolling enchiladas. Not today. Not in this season of life. We are cutting up corn tortillas and tossing them right into the skillet like the time-saving legends we are. Same cozy vibes, way less effort, significantly more sanity.

Top this bad boy with whatever makes your heart happy, serve it up, and then take a moment—just a moment—to pat yourself on the back. You fed your people. You survived the day. You won this round of the video game of life.

And honestly? That deserves extra cheese.

Chicken Enchilada Skillet with Homemade Enchilada Sauce

Ingredients

For the skillet:

• 2 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded or chopped
• 8 small corn tortillas, cut into bite-sized pieces
• 2 cups enchilada sauce (homemade or store-bought)
• 1 ½ cups shredded cheese (cheddar, Monterey Jack, or a blend—measure with your heart)
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• ½ small onion, diced
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Optional toppings (highly encouraged):

• Sour cream
• Avocado or guacamole
• Fresh cilantro
• Diced tomatoes
• Jalapeños
• A squeeze of lime

Quick Homemade Enchilada Sauce (Peanut Butter Magic Included)

• 2 tablespoons oil or butter
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• ½ teaspoon garlic powder
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon peanut butter (trust the process)
• Salt, to taste

Instructions:

1. In a saucepan, whisk together oil and flour over medium heat to form a paste.
2. Stir in chili powder, cumin, and garlic powder until fragrant.
3. Slowly whisk in chicken broth until smooth.
4. Add tomato paste and peanut butter, stirring until fully combined.
5. Simmer until slightly thickened. Taste and add salt as needed. Try not to eat it straight from the pan (or do, I won’t tell).

Skillet Instructions

1. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium heat.
2. Add diced onion and cook until soft, about 3–4 minutes. Add garlic and cook for another 30 seconds.
3. Stir in the cooked chicken and enchilada sauce. Let it all get cozy together.
4. Fold in the tortilla pieces, making sure they’re coated in all that saucy goodness.
5. Sprinkle cheese over the top like you mean it.
6. Either cover and let it melt on the stovetop or pop the skillet under the broiler for a couple minutes until bubbly and golden.
7. Remove from heat and pile on your favorite toppings.

Serve it straight from the skillet (because dishes are not the vibe right now), gather your people, and dig in.

You’ve got this. And dinner? Dinner is handled.

My beautiful friends, I have a confession.

You all know that the kids both deal with ARFID, so a lot of the time what I cook for Ivy and her brother (and, let’s be honest, their dad too) looks wildly different from what ends up in my own bowl. I am out here running a short-order kitchen most nights, and while I would love to say I float through it like some kind of serene, veggie-chopping goddess… sometimes I am just very, very tired.

And when that happens?
“Balanced meals” quietly exit the chat.

Because here’s the truth: sometimes I get too worn out cooking three different dinners to also make mine aggressively healthy. And yet… I still want to feel like I’ve done something good for my body. Enter: cruciferous vegetables… wearing a cozy little disguise of cheese and beer.

This soup is that compromise.

It’s warm, it’s creamy, it’s packed with roasted cauliflower (we love a queen), and yes—it contains a generous handful of white cheddar and a splash of beer. Is it technically healthy? Debatable. Is it healthy-ish if you squint and believe in yourself? Absolutely.

Honestly, I almost can’t even call this a recipe because it’s so simple. It’s more like… a gentle suggestion with cheese.

---

Cheesy Roasted Cauliflower Beer Soup

Ingredients

• 1 large head of cauliflower, cut into florets
• 2–3 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt (be generous, your future self will thank you)
• 1 small onion, diced
• 2 stalks celery, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 cups broth (chicken or vegetable)
• 1 cup beer (something mild—nothing too bitter)
• 1–1½ cups shredded white cheddar cheese
• Freshly cracked black pepper
• Optional: pinch of smoked paprika or thyme for extra coziness

---

Instructions

1. Roast the cauliflower
   Preheat your oven to 425°F. Toss the cauliflower florets with olive oil and salt, spread them out on a baking sheet, and roast for about 25–30 minutes until golden and a little crispy on the edges.
   Pro tip: Save a handful of those gorgeous roasted bits for topping later. We love a garnish moment.
2. Sauté the aromatics
   In a large pot, heat a little olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and celery with a pinch of salt and cook until soft and fragrant, about 5–7 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for another minute.
3. Build the soup
   Add the roasted cauliflower (except your reserved garnish), then pour in the broth and beer. Bring it to a simmer and let it bubble gently for about 10–15 minutes so everything can get cozy together.
4. Blend it smooth
   Grab your immersion blender and blend until silky and smooth. (Or carefully transfer to a blender in batches if you’re feeling brave.)
5. Add the cheese (the best part)
   Stir in the shredded white cheddar until melted and dreamy. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
6. Serve it up
   Ladle into bowls, top with those reserved roasted cauliflower bits, maybe an extra sprinkle of cheese if you’re feeling wild, and call it a win.

---

Notes from a Tired but Hopeful Cook

This is the kind of meal that meets you where you are. It doesn’t judge you for being exhausted. It doesn’t require ten side dishes or a perfectly curated plate. It just shows up, warm and cheesy, whispering, “You tried. That counts.”

So if you’re out here juggling different meals, different needs, and just trying to get through the week with a little joy intact—this soup is for you.

Take your wins where you can, my friends. Even if they come with cheddar. 

There are moments in my kitchen—rare, sparkly little moments—where I feel like I’ve unlocked some ancient, cozy superpower.  As much as I dream of being that person who's lives on a "homestead" and I can make every single thing ordinary people buy at the store, I'm not.  So when I go full made it myself instead of buying it, I get a little excited.

And every now and then, my beautiful friends, I do something that makes me feel magical.

I’ve baked bread for so long now that I don’t really get that full-on “Domestic Goddess” rush anymore. (Don’t get me wrong—I will never stop loving the smell of fresh bread. Bread is a personality trait in this house.) But making cheese? Oh. Oh, that’ll do it.

Making cheese feels like wizardry.

Now—is it hardcore cheese? Absolutely not. Because #1: I’m not insane. And #2: okay, maybe I am a little insane, but I’m pretty sure Ivy’s dad would have me gently escorted to an asylum if I started aging my own cheddar wheels in the living room.  Sometimes my food photography setup almost pushes him over the edge.  I'm not taking any chances.

So we’re keeping things approachable. Friendly. Non-commitment-level cheese. We’re making ricotta.  And trust me, this is the kind of kitchen magic you can absolutely get away with. No one calls for help. No one questions your life choices. You just casually turn milk into cheese like it’s no big deal.

Milk. Salt. Acid. That’s it.

You heat it, you stir, you watch it transform—and suddenly you’re standing there like, “I did that.” Wooden spoon wand and all.

Not me, though. I am extremely humble about my powers. Obviously.

Homemade Ricotta Cheese

Ingredients:

• 8 cups whole milk (do not use ultra-pasteurized if you can help it)
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup lemon juice or white vinegar

Instructions:

1. In a large pot, heat the milk and salt over medium heat until it just begins to simmer (about 190–200°F if you’re feeling precise).
2. Remove from heat and gently stir in the lemon juice or vinegar.
3. Let it sit undisturbed for 10 minutes. Watch the curds form like actual kitchen sorcery.
4. Line a strainer with cheesecloth and set it over a bowl.
5. Pour the mixture into the strainer and let it drain for 10–20 minutes, depending on how thick you like your ricotta. I use it a lot for ziti, so I'm at that 20 minute mark.
6. That’s it. You made cheese. Take a moment. You deserve it.

Now, technically, you could stop here and just eat warm ricotta straight from the spoon over the sink like a gremlin. No judgment.  After all, taste testing is definitely required, am I right?

But if we’re leaning into our magical era, we’re going to make something a little extra. Something soft and pretty and just a tiny bit indulgent.

Whipped Ricotta Toast with Honey & Strawberries

This is the “I casually make cheese now” serving suggestion.

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup fresh ricotta
• 1 tablespoon honey (plus more for drizzling)
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
• 2 slices sourdough bread, toasted
• Fresh strawberries, sliced
• Fresh mint (optional, but very “I have my life together”)

Instructions:

1. Add the ricotta, honey, and lemon zest to a mini food processor.
2. Blend until smooth and fluffy.
3. Try really, really hard not to eat it straight from the bowl. (No promises.)
4. Spread generously over toasted sourdough.
5. Top with sliced strawberries.
6. Drizzle with more honey.
7. Add fresh mint if you’re feeling fancy and/or emotionally stable.

And there you have it.

You made cheese. You made it pretty. You put it on toast like the domestic goddess you absolutely are—even if your wand is a wooden spoon and your kitchen is…let’s say “lived in.”  What...just me?

It’s magic, I tell you.

Pure magic.