Kitchen Diaries (formally Today’s Table) is my daily note from the kitchen, one meal at a time. Some days it is a new recipe, some days a cookbook favorite, and some days something I make up as I go. It is a quick peek at what is cooking, what is working, and what story the table is telling today. As a Walmart Partner, I may share links to ingredients, tools, or kitchen favorites I use along the way.

I talk a lot about the food I eat now. The meals I make. The recipes I try. The cookbooks stacked open on the counter like little promises. The Sunday suppers, the brunch bakes, the small domestic victories that make their way into photographs and paragraphs.

But I do not talk as much about the times I did not eat.

The times I grew up in an impoverished home and refused the bland rice, the stale bread, or the powdered milk mixed with water. The times I moved into my first apartment and could not face another can of SpaghettiOs or one more box of Pasta Roni, but did not yet know how to make anything else. The times I was afraid to cook meat because I had not been taught how, and the kitchen felt less like comfort and more like a place where I could fail.

Then came the seasons when I was a single mom, or a stay-at-home mom, and food became smaller. A meal for one. A meal for one adult and a toddler. A plate eaten standing up. A dinner made from what was left. A version of nourishment that worked, but did not always feel like care.

And so today, the thought in my kitchen is simple: You deserve the meal. Not because the table is full. Not because company is coming. Not because the occasion is grand enough to justify the effort. You deserve the meal because you are hungry. Because you are here. Because feeding yourself well is not selfish, wasteful, or too much.

This morning started with orange scones with a maple and orange glaze from Magnolia Table Vol 1, quick and easy enough to prepare while getting ready for church. It was just me and my daughter at home, but the kitchen still smelled like citrus and sugar and something worth slowing down for. Chad, working an extra shift, stopped by after a hospital drop-off and was able to grab a couple to snack on. There is something sweet about food making room for everyone, even in passing.

Tonight, it is still just me and my daughter. Chad is at work, and I am roasting a whole chicken with potatoes, onions, and carrots from Magnolia Table Vol 2. A whole chicken for two people might sound like too much, but maybe that is the point. Maybe abundance is allowed, even on an ordinary Sunday. Maybe a warm supper full of flavor does not require a full dining room to matter.

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The chicken will become dinner tonight, but it will also become part of the week ahead. Leftover chicken for flatbread pizza. Chicken noodle soup on the menu. A carcass saved for stock, because even the bones have something left to give.

This is what I am learning in the kitchen: a good meal is not just about what lands on the plate. It is about learning how. Taking the time. Trusting yourself with the heat, the seasoning, the knife, the bird on the sheet pan. It is about enjoying the process instead of rushing past it. It is about understanding that care counts, even when you are the one giving it to yourself.

So, here is where Kitchen Diaries begins. With a chicken in the oven, scones on the counter, leftovers already becoming future meals, and one quiet truth rising with the steam: You deserve to eat. You deserve to learn. You deserve to take the time. You deserve the good meal.

What’s on your menu?

Gracefully yours,

If this little kitchen diary found you at the right time, I’d love to have you at the table again. Subscribe to Food and the Story for more meals, stories, recipes, and everyday notes from my kitchen.

You can also follow along on social media for more kitchen moments, daily meals, behind-the-scenes bites, and little stories from the table.