There is a certain comfort that can be found only in the old pudding and cobbler recipes. These were usually made while fruit was in season, but now we are blessed with fruit in the grocery store year-round. Cobblers and puddings are always welcome additions to any meal. I’ve included the well-worn and beloved recipes from my grandmothers along with a few new favorites in this chapter.
One of my mother’s neighbors, Camille, gave us this recipe for a peach cobbler that is made using whole wheat bread. Camille’s grandmother picked up the recipe a few years ago. It makes preparing a cobbler so much easier, since you don’t have to make a crust. It’s an easy, delicious recipe, and you’d never guess it was made with sandwich bread. Serves 6 to 8
Nonstick cooking spray, for coating the pan
1 can (20 ounces) sliced peaches in juice, half the juice reserved
7 slices whole wheat sandwich bread
1 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg, beaten
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
½ cup (1 stick) butter, melted
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, plus extra for garnish
1 Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Coat a 9 x 13-inch pan with cooking spray.
2 Pour the peaches and the reserved juice into the prepared pan. Trim the crusts from the bread slices and cut each slice into 3 strips. Arrange the bread strips on top of the peaches in the pan.
3 Mix the sugar, egg, flour, butter, vanilla, and the 1 teaspoon cinnamon in a medium-size bowl and spread on top of the bread slices. Sprinkle with extra cinnamon and bake until lightly browned, about 45 minutes. Serve warm.
Mimi’s Peach Cobbler will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to 3 days.
I first tasted strawberry cobbler at a cafeteria. I love strawberries any way you fix them, so this was a recipe that I set out to duplicate the minute I got my hands on some strawberries. You can make this recipe with fresh strawberries washed and cut up with a little sugar on them, or you can use frozen sliced sweetened strawberries. If you use fresh ones, let them sit for a little bit after you add the sugar to make some juice. If you use frozen ones, let them thaw.
This is a really forgiving recipe. If you have a little extra fruit, add it. If you are a little bit short, use what you have and don’t give it a second thought. I often sprinkle about a tablespoon of sugar over the batter and strawberries before I put it in the oven—that was my grandmother’s finishing touch.
This strawberry cobbler is delicious by itself, with ice cream, or with whipped topping. Some folks like to pour on a little “sweet milk,” which is country talk for whole milk. Just serve it any way that suits your fancy. Serves 5 or 6
½ cup (1 stick) butter or margarine
2 cups fresh strawberries, washed, hulled, and sliced
1½ cups granulated sugar, plus 1 tablespoon extra if desired
1 cup self-rising flour (see recipe)
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)
1 cup milk
Ice cream, whole milk, or thawed frozen whipped topping (such as Cool Whip), for serving (optional)
1 Preheat the oven to 400°F. Place the butter in a 2-to 2½-quart ovenproof casserole dish and put it in the preheating oven just until the butter melts.
2 Place the strawberries in a medium-size bowl. Add ½ cup of the sugar and stir to coat.
3 Stir together the flour, the 1 cup of sugar, and the cinnamon, if using, in a large mixing bowl. Add the milk and stir until smooth. Pour the batter over the melted butter in the casserole dish. Pour the strawberries into the center of the batter. Do not stir. Sprinkle the remaining sugar over the top, if you wish.
4 Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean (the batter will bake up in a cake-like texture), 30 to 40 minutes. Serve on its own or with ice cream, if you like.
Strawberry Cobbler will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to 3 days.
I can’t even begin to count all of the wonderful memories I have of my family sitting around a big avocado-green bowl of Mama’s homemade banana pudding. There is truly nothing like this dish, and no shortcut holds a candle to the real thing. Serves 6 to 8
1 box (11 ounces) vanilla wafers
5 bananas
½ cup granulated sugar (or Splenda)
⅓ cup all-purpose flour
3 large egg yolks
2 cups milk
A dash of salt
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Meringue (see recipe), for topping (optional)
1 Place a layer of vanilla wafers in the bottom of a medium-size ovenproof mixing bowl. Slice the bananas and place a layer of them on top of the wafers. Repeat with two more alternating layers of wafers and bananas.
2 Combine the sugar, flour, egg yolks, milk, and salt in a medium-size saucepan or double boiler over medium-low heat and stir well with a whisk to combine. Cook, stirring constantly to prevent scorching, until thick (it will look like a soft-set pudding), about 15 minutes. Add the vanilla and stir.
3 Immediately pour the pudding over the wafers and bananas. Let sit to allow the wafers to absorb the pudding, about 5 minutes.
4 If using the meringue, spread it on top of the pudding, being sure to spread to the edges to seal well. Bake until the top is golden, 10 minutes.
Old-Fashioned Banana Pudding will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to 2 days.
The secret to being a “morning person” has nothing to do with what time you wake up. It doesn’t matter if your morning starts at 4 a.m. or at noon. I’ve learned that the way I treat the morning will determine what I get back from it. If I growl and grumble, it’s gonna bite. Instead, I decide to be grateful I woke up. I decide to count my blessings instead of complaints. I decide to be patient instead of frazzled. I decide to smile instead of frown. I decide to notice every little joy and count them as such instead of taking them for granted: running water, a bed, a roof, a job, a family, blue sky out my window, tires on my car that take me where I want to go . . .
These are some of the things that helped me to become a morning person, and these are also some of the things that helped me to become a happy person—neat how that works.
A string of small decisions, made moment after moment, day after day. But it all begins—each day—with one: I decide to be grateful.
Banana pudding (see recipe) is about the best thing on the planet, but if you’re someone who doesn’t like bananas, no worries! There is more than one way to make pudding!
Crushed pineapple is an excellent substitution for banana and the light sunshiny flavor is perfectly complemented by the homemade custard. Banana pudding aficionados don’t skip a beat when you place this before them, either. My kids can attest to that—and they usually don’t like pineapple! Serves 6 to 8
3 large eggs, separated
2 cups milk
¾ cup granulated sugar (or Splenda)
⅓ cup all-purpose flour
Dash of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 box (11 ounces) vanilla wafers
1 can (20 ounces) crushed pineapple with juice
1 Place the egg yolks, milk, ½ cup of the sugar, the flour, and salt in a medium-size saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring constantly, until the custard thickens (it will look like a soft-set pudding), 15 to 20 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla.
2 Preheat the oven to 350˚F.
3 Place half the wafers in the bottom of an 8 x 8-inch baking dish. Spread half the crushed pineapple on top. Cover with half the custard. Repeat with the remaining wafers, pineapple, and custard.
4 Place the egg whites in a clean medium-size mixing bowl and beat with the clean beaters of an electric mixer at medium-high speed until soft peaks form, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the remaining ¼ cup sugar and beat again until stiff peaks form. Spread over the top of the custard to the edges of the dish.
5 Bake until the top is lightly browned, about 15 minutes. Serve warm.
Vanilla Wafer Pineapple Pudding is best served the day it’s made. Leftovers will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for 1 day.
Hopefully you’ve known a kind older person in your lifetime. One whose face is filled with wrinkles from years of smiles, whose cheeks have a rosy glow from making the effort to be cheerful, and whose eyes have a twinkle of wisdom and memories. The only thing capable of rivaling such beauty is a smile from a newborn babe.
Forget wanting to look like movie stars and “perfect” folks. I want wrinkles—LOTS of them. I want laugh lines around my mouth and crinkles at my eyes. I want worn hands from preparing meals for generations and I want joints so used they begin to wear and ache in my older years. And don’t you dare deny me white hair as a testament to the glory I am shown in being able to watch my kids and grandkids grow up!
God, keep me so busy and focused on the living at hand and the love, smiles, laughter, and joy that come with it that I could not possibly end up with a drawn and pinched face, stretched and taut from trying to hide the evidence of a life well lived. I want to leave this world with every blessed wrinkle I can possibly earn. When I grow old, stand back, ’cause I’ll show them what beautiful really is. Look out, world. Granny’s got cookies! Make some wrinkles today!
You know how you always want a little more whipped cream because it is so good? Well, this dessert is basically glorified whipped cream! If you love lemon meringue pie like I do, you’ll especially love this because it ends up tasting like lemon meringue pie–flavored whipped cream.
Most recipes for syllabub are pretty complicated, but I have a firm belief that food and life are really simple, we just insist on complicating them. One of the things I like to do is simplify—so here is my recipe. Serves 6
1½ cups heavy cream
¼ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons apple juice
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Place the heavy cream, sugar, apple juice, lemon zest and juice, and vanilla in a large mixing bowl and beat with an electric mixer at medium speed, scraping down the side of the bowl and stirring from the bottom once, until thick and slightly stiff, 2 to 3 minutes. Cover and chill until ready to serve.
Lemon Syllabub is best served the day it’s made.
Until I had my first bite of crème brûlée, I didn’t really understand the difference between a dessert being “rich” and being “sweet.” Crème brûlée is a favorite of mine because it is light on the sweet and decadently heavy on the rich. Most recipes call for making it with a whole vanilla bean. A whole vanilla bean has never once stepped foot inside of my kitchen, so my recipe uses ingredients I have on hand, including bottled vanilla extract. Serves 6
Nonstick cooking spray
2 large sweet potatoes, scrubbed
1 cup granulated sugar (or Splenda)
¼ cup (½ stick) butter or margarine, melted
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 large eggs, plus 4 large egg yolks
2 cups heavy (whipping) cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
⅓ cup brown sugar
1 Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and coat it with cooking spray.
2 Pierce each sweet potato a few times with a fork, place them on the prepared baking sheet, and bake until soft when pierced with a paring knife, about 1 hour. Allow to cool completely.
3 Meanwhile, turn the oven down to 325°F. Coat an 8 x 8-inch baking dish with cooking spray.
4 Peel the sweet potatoes and place them in a large mixing bowl. Add ½ cup of the sugar, the butter, the cinnamon, and the 2 eggs and beat with an electric mixer at medium speed until smooth and creamy, 1 to 2 minutes. Spread the sweet potato mixture into the bottom of the prepared baking dish and set aside.
5 Place the cream, the remaining ½ cup sugar, the 4 egg yolks, and the vanilla in a medium-size heavy-bottomed saucepan and stir well. Place over medium-low heat and cook, whisking constantly, until just warm, about 5 minutes (it will be very runny). Using a measuring cup, gently scoop up the custard mixture and pour it evenly over the sweet potatoes.
6 Place the baking dish in the center of a larger baking dish. Pour water into the larger baking dish to reach a depth of 1 inch up the sides of the smaller one.
7 Bake until a knife inserted in the center of the custard comes out clean, about 1 hour. Carefully remove the smaller baking dish and place it on a heavy dish towel or wire rack to cool. Once cool, cover it with aluminum foil and refrigerate for 2 to 3 hours, or overnight.
8 Shortly before you’re ready to serve, remove the custard from the fridge and let it sit at room temperature for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to a high broil.
9 Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top of the custard and place it on a rimmed baking sheet. Broil, about 5 inches from the heat, until the sugar is mostly melted and forms a thin coat across the top of the dish, 5 to 7 minutes. Allow to cool until the sugar hardens, about 5 minutes.
Sweet Potato Crème Brûlée will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for 1 to 2 days.
We were having supper over at Grandmama’s house and as soon as we walked in the door I honed in on an indescribably delicious smell.
“Grandmama, what is that?”
“Oh, I just made us some butter rolls for dessert.” She said it with a wave of her hand, dismissing it as nothing special.
I was confused. Rolls for dessert? I thought she had taken rolls and slathered them with butter and was heating them up in the oven. It smelled so different, though—vanilla and sweetness and butter. I hardly ate any supper waiting on them. As soon as she pulled the pan out of the oven I was beside her, helping her serve—you know, in case she forgot to get me one first! I stuck my fork into it and was hooked.
“Grandmama, you have GOT to get me this recipe!”
“Well now t’ain’t really no recipe, I just make ’em like Mama did. You take you a little bit of biscuit dough and put you a little bit of butter on it and then just sprinkle a little bit of sugar and make you up a sauce and then you bake it.”
For five years, I had no idea how to make a butter roll. Every time I asked Grandmama, she’d just make them again for me, but they were always in the oven by the time I showed up at her house. I would say, “Grandmama, you have got to give me that recipe,” and off she’d go again into her “t’ain’t really no recipe . . .” Just when I had lost hope of getting a recipe for them, Mama found several recipes for butter rolls in a few church cookbooks. We tried them out, and chose the winner (see recipe)—just like Grandmama’s. After making it according to the recipe, I can now understand Grandmama’s instructions fully: It really is that simple.
Still wondering just what a butter roll is? Think more in line with cinnamon rolls, only without so much cinnamon and baked in a rich homemade custard sauce.
I have a favor to ask as well, since this is a nearly forgotten recipe of days gone by: Help me bring it back again so it won’t be lost to future generations. If you enjoy it, please pass the recipe on. 
One of the things I enjoy doing most on Southern Plate is posting those nearly lost recipes of days gone by in hopes of bringing them back from the brink of extinction. This is especially important to me in preserving our food heritage, because our most cherished recipes were never written down, instead being passed verbally from cook to cook with instructions like “you take a little bit of this and a little bit of that.”
Well of course, that hardly works nowadays when cooks are thousands of miles apart or perhaps precious Granny has passed on and taken the recipe with her. I don’t know if my great-grandmother ever followed a single written recipe in her life. She didn’t get to go too far in school, and I know that writing a recipe would have been a difficult task for her. Instead, it was a bit of this and a bit of that, humming along as she took whatever she had in the pantry and whipped up a little supper.
Some of our most beloved dishes begin with flour. Biscuits, milk gravy, chicken and dumplings, and this recipe: butter rolls. I wish I could say I’d grown up eating butter rolls, but the truth is I had them for the first time about ten years ago—it was worth the wait. Makes 9 rolls
Nonstick cooking spray, for coating the baking dish
2 cups self-rising flour (see recipe), plus extra for rolling out the dough
½ cup vegetable shortening
2½ cups milk
½ cup (1 stick) butter or margarine, at room temperature
¼ cup plus ⅔ cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat an 8 x 8-inch baking dish with cooking spray and set aside.
2 Place the flour in a medium-size bowl and add the shortening, cutting it into the flour with a fork. Add ½ cup of the milk and stir until it forms a dough.
3 Place the dough on a floured surface and use your hands to shape it into a ball. Roll the ball into a 7 x 10-inch rectangle with a rolling pin. Spread the butter over the dough and sprinkle ¼ cup of the sugar and the cinnamon over the top.
4 Starting with a long edge, roll the dough up like a jelly roll and press the ends together lightly to seal. Cut into nine 1-inch-thick slices. Place the slices in the prepared dish.
5 Combine the remaining 2 cups milk, the remaining ⅔ cup sugar, the cinnamon, and vanilla in a medium-size saucepan over medium heat and stir constantly until the mixture begins to bubble lightly, 1 to 2 minutes. Pour the sauce over the rolls in the pan.
6 Bake until the rolls are lightly browned on top, 30 to 40 minutes. Allow to sit for a few minutes as the rolls soak up more sauce. Serve with a spoonful of extra sauce from the pan on top.
Old-Fashioned Butter Rolls are best served hot from the oven but will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for 1 to 2 days. (They reheat nicely in the microwave.)
My family loves to laugh. That might seem like an odd statement because I’m sure most folks would say the same thing. In my family, though, we place a very high value on laughter and seek it as often as possible.
For ancestors who had very difficult lives as sharecroppers, laughter was something they learned to cling to. It kept them going, reminded them of joy in the middle of hardship, and ensured the family always had something to look forward to, even if it was wondering what the next punch line would be.
Some of my earliest memories include Mama playing little pranks on us, or my brother and me hiding and jumping out when Mama walked around the corner. Of course, in my family this wasn’t a cause for surprise, it was just how our everyday lives worked and how they still do today. If you bend over, you get goosed. If you say you have a headache, someone will say, “If I had a head like that and it didn’t ache, I’d think something was wrong!” and headaches turn into giggles and grins.
A few years back while traveling with my husband and kids, I accidentally dialed Mama’s number while putting my cell phone in my coat pocket. Mama could tell what had happened by the rustling sound of my jacket, but rather than hang up, she set aside what she was doing and spent the next thirty minutes shouting out, “Help me! I’m stuck in a jacket!” at random intervals and then giggling as she listened to me ask my husband, “Did you hear that? I keep hearing someone call for help . . .”
When I remember each of my grandparents, I always see them in a fit of joy, laughing. Picturing my mother when I was a girl, I see her face lit up in laughter, just as it so often is now. My dad’s laugh still bellows through the house, in much the same way as my husband’s. Looking for the next funny moment is a natural habit I’ve developed over the years—and the next generation of our family is very much the same.
Now that I’m grown, Mama and I have become accomplices in scheming up gags to play on the rest of our family. We’ve served the family grand birthday cakes that turned out to be meat loaf iced with mashed potatoes, and on several occasions we’ve packed school lunches with items of only one color, just to see if my kids and nephews would notice and hopefully spark a little unexpected grin in the middle of their day. When my kids visit Grandmama’s house, they never know if they’re going to be given the special “dribble” glass, which causes a tiny trickle of liquid to spill down the chin of whoever uses it.
I could spend days telling you some of the things we’ve done to get a laugh out of one another. We all look forward to these moments, wondering what someone is going to do next to elicit that wonderful bellyache caused by laughing. Sometimes we even spend entire afternoons just sitting around retelling funny moments in the lives of our ancestors that have been passed down and retold as part of our family history. I know for a fact that a sense of humor can be quite the inheritance!
A few weeks ago, my teenage son and I found ourselves sitting on a couch together, our feet up on a large footstool, sharing tales of some of the pranks I’ve pulled on my husband over the years. With each one we’d laugh and talk over how we could possibly top them if we worked together. As the conversation was winding to a close, Brady looked at me proudly and said, “Mom, you’re crazy.”
I grinned back at the compliment and said, “Aren’t you glad?”
“Yup!” he replied. And we found ourselves laughing together, yet again.
As much as I love from-scratch butter rolls, I have to admit that I like this shortcut version even better! They are dumpling-like in texture on the bottom and flaky on the top. Since they come together so quickly, now there is no excuse not to try this old-fashioned favorite. Makes 10 to 12 rolls
Nonstick cooking spray, for coating the pan
All-purpose flour, for rolling out the dough
1 can (8 ounces) crescent roll dough
¼ cup (½ stick) butter or margarine, at room temperature
⅓ cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Lightly coat an 8-inch round cake pan with cooking spray.
2 Roll out the dough on a floured surface using a rolling pin. Press the seams together.
3 Spread the butter over the dough, leaving a ½-inch border on all sides. Sprinkle with the 2 tablespoons of sugar and the cinnamon. Starting with a long edge, roll the dough like a jelly roll and squeeze lightly with your hands to seal. Cut into 10 to 12 slices and place them in the prepared pan.
4 Place the milk and vanilla in a microwave-safe measuring cup and heat in the microwave until very warm. Stir in the ⅓ cup sugar until dissolved. Pour the mixture over the rolls.
5 Bake until golden brown on top, 30 to 35 minutes. Let sit to cool slightly, 5 to 10 minutes. Serve warm with additional sauce from the pan spooned over the rolls. Enjoy!
Shortcut Butter Rolls are best served hot from the oven but will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for 1 to 2 days. (They reheat nicely in the microwave.)
from Camille Ritter Williams
“This is one of my grandmother Annette Howard’s recipes. It was her mother’s recipe, and she made it often for her family during the 1940s and ’50s. She didn’t use a written recipe, she just started pouring this and that until she ended up with the right consistency. My grandmother (Momma) always did the same thing, until a few years ago when we asked for the recipe and she realized she couldn’t give it to us. She carefully measured it out for us so that we could re-create one of our favorite desserts in our own homes.
“Momma is the oldest of four girls. Growing up, her mother was sick a lot, so she began cooking at an early age. She always helped take care of her younger sisters and was preparing full meals by the time she was twelve years old. She has always had a servant’s heart. To this day, when she prepares a big meal, she often fixes plates to send to neighbors or others in the community just to show she cares. She is a wonderful example to all the younger generations who are blessed to spend time with her.” Serves 8 to 10
Nonstick cooking spray, for coating the baking dish
1½ cups self-rising flour (see recipe), plus extra for rolling the dough
½ cup vegetable shortening
2½ cups plus ⅓ cup milk
2 heaping tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup plus 2 heaping tablespoons granulated sugar
½ cup (1 stick) butter, cut into small pats
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly coat a 9 x 13-inch baking dish with cooking spray.
2 Place the flour in a medium-size mixing bowl. Add the shortening and cut together with a long-tined fork. Add ⅓ cup of the milk and stir until a dough forms.
3 On a floured surface, roll the dough out with a rolling pin into a large rectangle about ¼-inch thick.
4 Stir together the cocoa powder and the 2 heaping tablespoons of sugar in a small bowl. Sprinkle the mixture over the dough and top evenly with the slices of butter.
5 Starting with the long edge, roll the dough into a tight log and cut it crosswise into ¾-inch-thick slices. Place the slices in the prepared baking dish (it’s okay if they touch). Set aside.
6 Place the 2½ cups of milk, the remaining 1 cup sugar, and the vanilla in a medium-size saucepan. Stir over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved and the mixture is hot, about 5 minutes. Pour the mixture over the rolls in the baking dish.
7 Bake until the tops of the rolls are golden brown, 30 to 40 minutes. Serve warm.
Momma’s Chocolate Butter Rolls will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to 3 days. Leftovers can be served cold or reheated in the microwave until warm.
This is a recipe that Mama shared with me immediately after she got home from an event where the sides and desserts were potluck. To her, they were the best new old-fashioned dessert she had tasted in a long time.
Mama shares: “If you love sweet potatoes as much as I do, you may not want to try this recipe—I almost make myself sick every time I make them because they are so delicious that I can barely stop eating them!”
Mama got this recipe from an older lady at the event, who graciously emailed it to her. Thank you, Ms. Earlean, for the recipe. Our family thanks you, and now the Southern Plate family will thank you, too! Makes 16 dumplings
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 large can (16.3 ounces) jumbo flaky layered biscuits (such as Grands! Flaky Layers Original Biscuits)
8 slices frozen sweet potato rounds, thawed (see Note)
Dash of ground cinnamon, nutmeg, or ginger (whichever you like best)
2 cups granulated sugar
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Place the butter in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish and put the dish in the oven while it preheats. Remove from the oven once the butter is just melted.
2 Divide each biscuit in half by pulling the layers apart. Pat each layer flat with your hands and place on a plate until all of the layers are divided.
3 Slice the sweet potato rounds in half (to form semicircles) and sprinkle each with a dash of cinnamon.
4 Place a sweet potato slice on a biscuit half. Fold the biscuit over and seal by gently pressing the edges together with the tines of a fork or your fingers, as you would a fried pie or turnover. Place the biscuits in a single layer in the baking dish with the melted butter.
5 Stir together 2½ cups of water, the sugar, and the corn syrup in a medium-size saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat and allow to simmer until the sugar is completely dissolved, 2 to 3 minutes. Pour the hot syrup around the dumplings.
6 Bake until golden brown, 25 to 35 minutes. Allow to cool slightly before serving (the sauce will thicken as it cools).
Sweet Potato Dumplings will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to 3 days. Leftovers can be served cold or reheated in the microwave until warm.
Note: If you are not able to find frozen sweet potato rounds, you can substitute canned sweet potatoes and cut them into ½-inch-thick slices. Note that sweet potatoes are often labeled “yams” in many grocery stores. If you check the ingredients on “yams,” you’ll see “sweet potatoes.” Sometimes you just go with the crazy.