Everyone has a moment when their story begins. For me, it started when I was about eleven.

That year, my mother started working outside the home for the first time. She told us plainly, “I’m not coming home to cook and clean after working all day.” From then on, the house became our responsibility. As the youngest, I was in charge of making the cornbread—an essential at every meal and a go-to snack. When my sisters moved out, I took on even more of the cooking.

In college, I worked in the main library and found myself drawn to the cookbook section. That’s when I started experimenting in the kitchen. My no-fuss, country-raised father wasn’t always a fan—especially when garlic was involved (I love it, he didn’t). Still, my curiosity and love for food only grew.

I’ve always believed there are two kinds of people: those who cook because they have to, and those who cook because it brings them joy. I’m proudly in the second group.

Now that I’m retired, I finally have the time to play in the kitchen and share the joy. I hope my pecan delights bring you as much pleasure as I get from making them.