When the pandemic officially began, I took refuge at my childhood home in the Southern Outer Banks of North Carolina. In a matter of weeks, banana bread was in the midst of a resurgence. Everyone was baking it and everyone was talking about it. Cooking has long been my form of coping with uncertain times and I remember opening my mom’s fridge to grab milk and eggs when I saw a jar of ube halaya (purple yam jam) hiding behind a repurposed plastic container. I plucked it from the shelf and swirled it into my batter. Slicing into the baked loaf revealed marbled streaks of purple. It was tender and creamy, the mellow honeyed flavor of banana merging with the sweet earthy flavor of ube. My husband, Miles, and my mom joined in a chorus of praise. I was happy with it, too. Later that night, when I couldn’t sleep, I found myself ruminating about the bread I’d made that afternoon. This is the recipe that sparked the idea for this book—reinterpretations of Filipino American desserts and flavors, and the beginning of my personal renaissance.

“This is the kind of pie that gets me. The kind I fall head over peel in love with. The buckwheat crust is the ‘edible bowl’ I love and the earthy, toffee sesame crunch is the pie accessory you never knew you needed. You’ll need one overripe banana to make the custard and then some perfectly ripe ones to be cuddled by custard. Go bananas – literally.” - Natalie Paull

“If you ever see me at the supermarket, chances are I’ll have a caramel mud cake in my basket. It is my favourite massproduced treat and resolutely non-guilty pleasure. Alas, so many attempts to re-create it left me disheartened – until I dabbled with chicory, a caffeine-free coffee substitute. When mixed with dark brown sugar, chicory imparts butterscotch-adjacent notes. The sticky, finger-dipping-good dark caramel ganache really ties the whole cake together so I have allowed more than what this cake needs. Warm any excess to pour over ice cream.” - Natalie Paull

We couldn’t do a cookbook without one of our all-time fave dinners in it. We have this at least once a week. It is utterly divine — soul food at its best. The mac is a great way to use up any random bits of cheese in the door of the fridge. We usually serve this with a tangy garden salad (for balance).

This showstopper of a dish originates from the Chittagong district, and is traditionally served to welcome a new groom into the bride’s family. Mellow, lightly spiced and creamy, the skinless chicken is melt-in-your-mouth and flavoursome throughout thanks to slow cooking and bhagar or tempering of golden fried onions.

As a child, and being one of the eldest grandchildren, I was lucky enough to enjoy leisurely breakfasts with my late nani (maternal grandmother) whenever I visited my grandparents’ home. For me, this was my time with my grandmother, sitting at the kitchen table and being served a portion of doi chira in an enamel bowl. I would watch as she sliced up the bananas, then poured warm milk on top of the chira (which I would later learn she handmade, on visits to Bangladesh). Next, she’d add an occasional dollop of yoghurt or doi, and sometimes gur (date molasses). A sprinkle of salt offset the sweet and tangy, and created a simple dish that was a joy to eat.