About me

I’m Kelly Smith, a 30-year-old American home cook with a tiny kitchen, big holiday energy, and a persistent belief that cinnamon can solve most problems. I make cozy, crowd-pleasing recipes at home, photograph the edible ones, and turn the occasional kitchen disaster into a new tradition.

I grew up in a family where “taste this” was a love language and the smoke alarm doubled as a timer. These days, I run my life on seasonal menus and grocery lists that look like romance novels for butter. I’m equal parts planner and improviser: think color-coded pantry bins, plus a rogue tablespoon of vanilla “for drama.” When I’m not whisking, I’m writing, styling, and testing recipes until they behave—or until I admit the original plan wanted to be cookies all along.

I cook with a home cook’s mindset: affordable ingredients, kitchen tools that earn their drawer space, and recipes that make you feel competent and celebrated. Flavor-wise, I live at the intersection of nostalgic and new: classic pies with a twist, sheet-pan dinners that taste like a hug, and weeknight pastas that understand the assignment.

Holiday love affair

Holidays are my Super Bowl, and yes, my playlist has a dedicated “preheat oven” track. I love the rituals—the first whiff of pumpkin spice, powdered sugar on my sweater like a dusting of snow, the annual debate over stuffing vs. dressing. My kitchen calendar is anchored by:

  • Thanksgiving test runs in October (research, obviously)
  • A December cookie roster that changes yearly but always includes at least one sparkly showstopper
  • Valentine’s “chocolate therapy” bakes for friends
  • Easter brunch that’s 40% eggs, 60% lemon zest optimism
  • July picnics with red, white, and blueberry everything

Beyond the kitchen

When I’m not seasoning cast iron, I’m:

  • Hunting vintage cookbooks at thrift shops and pretending it’s “archival work”
  • Styling food photos with too many napkins and exactly the right crumb
  • Taking long walks to earn more butter
  • Making playlists for menu themes (yes, there’s a “Gingerbread Disco”)
  • Hosting board-game nights that conveniently require dips, spreads, and something baked

Kitchen quirks

  • The phrase “just a pinch” is legally meaningless in my house.
  • I measure garlic with my heart.
  • I keep a “mood spice”—currently cardamom—on the counter like a scented candle.
  • I believe leftovers deserve a glow-up and a standing ovation.
  • My freezer is a time capsule of half-bags of cranberries and emergency puff pastry.

What I cook

  • Comfort-forward mains: skillet pot pies, herby roast chicken, maple-mustard pork tenderloin
  • Veg sides that don’t apologize: crispy Brussels with hot honey, brown-butter carrots, garlicky green beans with toasted almonds
  • Baking therapy: brown-butter blondies, cinnamon roll wreaths, gingerbread everything, citrus olive oil cakes
  • Quick wins: sheet-pan gnocchi, creamy tomato tortellini soup, pesto chicken melts for “I’m tired but hungry” nights

Recipe philosophy

Food should feel personal, not precious. I love recipes that invite swaps—gluten-free flour when needed, dairy-free options that still taste indulgent, and flavor riffs that fit your pantry. If a dish doesn’t improve your mood or your leftovers, it’s not finished yet.

Hosting style

Candles lit, music low, oven on, napkins mismatched on purpose. I build menus like mixtapes: an opener that wows, a center-of-the-table hit, a couple dependable B-sides, and a finale that gets requested next year. If you leave with a container of something sweet, that means we’re officially friends.

Favorites at a glance

  • Comfort flavors: brown butter, vanilla bean, rosemary, citrus zest
  • Go-to tools: cast-iron skillet, sturdy sheet pans, instant-read thermometer
  • Pantry heroes: good olive oil, flaky salt, crushed tomatoes, panko
  • Sweet spot: holiday baking with a modern twist (sparkle sugar is a lifestyle)
  • Weeknight magic: one-pan dinners and 30-minute soups

If you’re here for recipes that taste like tradition with a wink, pull up a stool. I’ll pour the cider, you grab the cinnamon—let’s make something worth remembering.