New Year third year with the Clarkes. Third time for black-eyed peas on New Year Day. I feel this ritual becoming something Ida will inherit without knowing she is inheriting it. She does not understand New Year. She will in a few years. And when she does, the black-eyed peas will already be there, already familiar, already part of what New Year means. That is how traditions work. You do them before anyone understands them and then understanding catches up to the doing.
Tyler got a small bonus at the shop. He spent part of it on a new piece of kitchen equipment for me, a stand mixer, which I have wanted for years and never bought. He set it on the counter with a bow. A stand mixer. I stood there looking at it and thought about the seventeen different ways I was going to use it before next week and then I said: this is too generous. He said: it is a stand mixer. I said: it is exactly what I wanted. He said: yes. I know what you want. I said: I know you do. That is still one of the great surprises of this life. Someone who knows what you want.
The small Bright Beginnings Daycare in the small downtown Prattville is the small workplace. The small toddler-room teacher role (ages 18-36 months). The small daycare-worker-salary plus the small fiancé-Cole’s small carpenter-paycheck is the small two-income engaged-couple budget. The small wedding-saving has been the small two-year-project.
Tyler Clarke (the small fiancé, 29, diesel-mechanic-from-Millbrook) works at a small trucking-company. The small wedding is planned for October 2026 with Gloria walking Savannah down the aisle. The small marriage will be the small first-stable-adult-relationship Savannah has had. The small foster-care upbringing means the small family-of-origin had been the small unstable-shape.
The small foster-care-history: Savannah went into the small Alabama-foster-care system at age six after the small mother’s incarceration and the small father’s absence. The small seven-foster-placements between infancy and age sixteen. The small last placement (Gloria and James Martin in Prattville, who became the small forever-parents) since age fourteen. The small Martin-foster-parents continued to be the small only-parents until James died in 2024 at 77 from a heart-attack mowing the lawn.
The small self-taught-Southern-cooking is the small kitchen-identity. The small no-grandmother-recipes-passed-down meant the small YouTube-and-cookbook-self-teaching from age sixteen onward. The small fried chicken, the small biscuits, the small mac-and-cheese, the small banana pudding, the small sweet tea are the small staples.
The small Gloria-Martin kitchen-mentorship (Gloria is the small foster-mom-now-mom) has been the small adult-cooking-development since the small fourteen-year-old. The small Gloria-Sunday-dinners-with-Savannah-cooking-now are the small weekly-rhythm since James passed. The small Gloria-recipes (Black-Southern-comfort-food the small chain of Gloria’s mother and grandmother) are the small heritage-by-adoption.
The small Prattville-small-town-community is the small social-context. The small First Baptist Church congregation is the small church-family. The small daycare-coworkers are the small adjacent-friend-network. The small Martin-family (Gloria, James who passed in 2024, plus the small current-foster-child Destiny age 6 in Gloria’s care) is the small chosen-family. The small Tyler’s-family-in-Millbrook (Debbie, Roy, and four-brothers) is the small in-law-family.
The small Sunday-publishing-rhythm of the recipe blog continues to be the small organizing-spine of the small week. The small Sunday-cooking happens in the small late-morning-to-early-afternoon window. The small photographing of the finished dish happens at the small three-PM kitchen-light-window. The small writing-up of the recipe happens at the small four-PM workspace at the kitchen-counter. The small final-edit happens at the small five-PM. The small post publishes at seven PM. The small ritual has been running for years.
The small recipe-development-philosophy continues to be the small small-batch-test-then-publish approach. The small first cook of a small new recipe happens on the small Saturday afternoon. The small adjustments are noted in the small kitchen-notebook. The small second cook happens Sunday with the small adjustments incorporated. The small Sunday-cook is the small version that gets photographed and published. The small two-test process catches the small recipe-flaws before they reach the small reader.
The small kitchen-equipment-inventory has the small key-pieces that show up in nearly every recipe. The small heavy-bottomed Dutch oven for the small braises. The small twelve-inch cast-iron skillet for the small sears and the small pan-roasts. The small half-sheet baking-pans for the small roasted vegetables and the small cookies. The small wooden-spoon-collection in the small ceramic-pitcher on the counter. The small chef’s-knife and the small paring-knife and the small bread-knife that are the small daily-tools.
The small grocery-shopping rhythm runs through the small Tuesday-evening trip and the small Saturday-morning top-off. The small Tuesday-trip is the small weekly-stock-up for the small staples and the small produce and the small protein. The small Saturday-trip is the small quick-fill for whatever the small Sunday-recipe requires that is not already in the small pantry. The small two-trip-per-week pattern keeps the small grocery-bill manageable and the small food-waste low.
The small meal-planning happens on the small Sunday-evening for the small week-ahead. The small dinners are mapped out across the small Monday-through-Saturday. The small repeating-meals are slotted in (the small pasta-Monday, the small taco-Tuesday or similar pattern). The small new-recipes are slotted for the small Wednesday-or-Thursday for the small variety. The small planning ahead reduces the small daily what-are-we-making-for-dinner stress.
The small weekday-cooking is the small efficient-and-fast mode. The small Sunday-cooking is the small slow-and-careful mode. The small two-modes serve the small two-different-needs. The small weekday-cooking has to be on the small table within forty-five minutes of getting home from the small work-or-school-pickup. The small Sunday-cooking can take three hours and benefit from every minute of that time.
The small recipe-archive on the small blog has grown to many hundreds of recipes over the years. The small archive is the small searchable-resource for the small weekday-meal-planning. The small reader-feedback in the small comments-section helps refine the small recipes over time.
The small Sunday-cooking-and-writing rhythm is the small thing that has held across years of life-changes and family-events and small ordinary-weekday-disruptions. The small constant is the small Sunday. The small constant is the small recipe. The small constant is the small posting-at-seven-PM ritual.
Tyler’s stand mixer was still sitting on the counter with the bow on it when I decided I had to use it that same day — I wasn’t going to let something I’d wanted for years just sit there decorative. Meringue felt exactly right: it’s the kind of thing that’s always been just a little difficult to do by hand, and I’d put it off because of that, and now I had no more excuses. There’s something fitting about the first recipe out of a brand-new stand mixer being something light and celebratory and a little bit joyful — sparkly meringue snowmen for New Year’s Day felt like exactly the right kind of beginning.
Sparkly Meringue Snowmen
Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours (plus cooling) | Servings: 18–20 snowmen
Ingredients
- 3 large egg whites, room temperature
- 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
- 3/4 cup superfine (caster) sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- White sanding sugar or edible glitter, for sparkling
- Black and orange food-safe decorating gel or mini chocolate chips, for faces
- Thin pretzel sticks, for arms (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 200°F. Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
- Whip the whites. In the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed until foamy, about 2 minutes.
- Build the meringue. Increase speed to medium-high and begin adding the superfine sugar one tablespoon at a time, waiting about 10 seconds between additions. Once all the sugar is incorporated, increase to high speed and beat until the meringue is stiff and glossy and holds firm peaks, about 5–6 minutes. Beat in the vanilla extract.
- Pipe the snowmen. Transfer meringue to a piping bag fitted with a large round tip. On the prepared baking sheets, pipe a small circle (about 1 inch) for the head, then immediately pipe a larger circle (about 1 1/2 inches) directly below it for the body, letting them touch so they bake together into one connected snowman shape. Repeat for all snowmen, spacing at least 1 inch apart.
- Sparkle and decorate. Immediately dust each snowman lightly with white sanding sugar or edible glitter. Add tiny dots of decorating gel or press in mini chocolate chips for eyes, a nose, and buttons before baking.
- Bake low and slow. Bake at 200°F for 1 hour 30 minutes. Turn off the oven and leave the meringues inside with the door cracked for at least 1 hour, or until completely cool and crisp all the way through. Do not rush this step — slow cooling prevents cracking.
- Finish and store. Once fully cool and crisp, press small pieces of pretzel stick into the sides for arms if desired. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days. Avoid humidity, which will soften the meringue.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 38 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 10mg