Sunday to me means comfort, period. I must feel happy and satisfied with everything I eat.
This Sunday, I made buttermilk fried chicken, New Orleans style red beans and rice with smoked turkey, hushpuppies loaded with sharp cheddar, and roasted vegetables and because someone had to be responsible, and I made it the vegetables.
My husband loved it and I could not have been more satisfied.
That is the whole point of Sunday dinner.
Why Sunday Dinner Deserves More Than Your Leftovers
There’s a version of Sunday that exists purely as a waiting room for Monday. Meal prepping, catching up on emails, dreading the week. I’ve lived in that version. I don’t love it.
The Sunday I want, the one I’m actively choosing, is slower. It smells like something. It pulls people toward the kitchen without anyone being asked.
It doesn’t require perfection or Pinterest presentation. It requires presence.
And sometimes it requires a deep fryer.
I finally bought one. Under $100 from Walmart. I will not apologize. The even golden crust you get from a proper deep fryer versus a skillet is not the same thing. If you’ve been going back and forth on it, consider this your sign.
Now let me give you everything you need to recreate this meal.
Buttermilk Fried Chicken Recipe
The kind that crackles when you set it down. The kind people hover near the kitchen for.
This is not a complicated recipe. It is a patient one. The marinade does most of the work.
Ingredients
- Bone-in chicken pieces (thighs, drumsticks, and wings are best — they stay juicy)
- Buttermilk
- 2 eggs
- All-purpose flour, sazon, lawrys
- Garlic powder, onion powder, salt, black pepper
- Peanut oil for frying
How to Make It
1. The marinade is non-negotiable. Submerge your chicken in buttermilk and egg mixture with all the spices. Then just let it sit. A few hours will work. Overnight is better. The buttermilk tenderizes.
2. Season your flour like you mean it. I add all the same spices directly to the flour and mix until it smells right. I like to add some Lawrys and sazon for extra color to the batter.
3. Dredge thoroughly. Press the flour into every crevice. Let it sit for a few minutes so the coating adheres. Don’t rush this.
4. Fry at 350°F. No lower, or you’ll get greasy chicken. No higher, or the outside burns before the inside cooks. About 10 minutes depending on chicken size. Use a thermometer if you have one.
5. Rest on a rack, not paper towels. Paper towels trap steam and soften your crust. A rack lets the air circulate. This is the difference between crispy chicken and sad chicken.
New Orleans Style Red Beans and Rice with Smoked Turkey
Slow, savory, soulful. This holds the whole plate down.
Red beans and rice is one of those dishes that seems simple and rewards patience. The smoked turkey is the move — it adds that deep, smoky richness without the weight of ham hocks.
Ingredients
- Can red beans *I like it this way, it’s faster
- Jasmine rice to serve
- Smoked turkey drumstick
- Smoked turkey sausage, chopped
- Yellow onion, green bell pepper, celery (the holy trinity)
- Garlic
- Chicken or vegetable broth
- Onion powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, cajun seasoning, salt, black pepper
How to Make It
1. Start with the sausage. Slice your smoked turkey sausage and sauté it in a little oil until it gets some color. The fat that renders out is pure flavor — let it coat the bottom of the pot.
2. Build your trinity. Add your diced onion, bell pepper, and celery right into that sausage fat. Cook until soft, then add garlic. This is your foundation. Don’t skip it.
3. Add the broth and smoked turkey. Pour in your chicken broth and nestle in the smoked turkey. Simmer until the turkey is tender and the meat is starting to pull away from the bone — this is where all that deep smoky flavor develops. About an hour, covered.
4. Pull the turkey, add the beans. Remove the turkey pieces, shred the meat off the bone, and set it aside. Add your canned beans directly to the pot an. Let everything simmer together.
5. Add the turkey meat back in and simmer until thick. Return the shredded turkey to the pot and keep simmering until the beans absorb all that flavor and the whole thing thickens into something rich and scoopable. Stir occasionally and let it do its thing. Add a splash of water to get desired consistency.
6. Cook rice separately. Spoon beans generously over the top. Do not stir them together. The contrast matters.
Hushpuppies with Cheddar, Bell Pepper, and Onion
Slightly sweet, slightly savory, soft inside, golden outside. These disappeared first.
I added sharp cheddar because it sounded good. That’s the only reason. It worked.
Ingredients
- Half a box of Jiffy cornbread mix
- All-purpose flour
- Buttermilk
- One egg
- Green bell pepper, finely diced
- Onion, finely diced
- Sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
- Oil for frying
How to Make It
Mix everything in one bowl. Combine the Jiffy mix, a scoop of flour, buttermilk, and egg until just combined. Fold in the bell pepper, onion, and cheddar. Don’t overthink it, this is a one-bowl situation.
2. Let the batter rest for 30 minutes. This step matters. The batter thickens, the flavors come together, and your hushpuppies will hold their shape better when they hit the oil. Set it and walk away.
3. Scoop and fry. Use a cookie scoop to drop even portions into hot oil. Fry for about 3 minutes or until deeply golden brown. They should sizzle immediately when they hit the oil — if they don’t, your oil isn’t hot enough.
Simple Roasted Vegetables
Your color. Your balance. Your reason to feel like you made a complete meal.
Ingredients
- Broccoli, carrots, zucchini, red onion or brussel sprouts
- Olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic powder
How to Make It
Toss everything in olive oil and seasoning. Roast at 400°F until caramelized with crispy edges. Don’t crowd the pan, that’s how you get steam instead of color.
That’s it. That’s the whole recipe.
The Real Reason Sunday Dinner Matters
I want to say something that isn’t about food.
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from constantly optimizing. Making everything lighter, faster, more on-trend, more likely to perform. We do this in our work. A lot of us do it in our kitchens too.
Sunday dinner is where I stop doing that.
I fried the chicken because I wanted to. I bought the deep fryer because it makes me happy. I made hushpuppies because they sounded delicious and fun and I was in the mood for both.
You don’t need perfect technique. You need music playing. A candle burning. The willingness to season boldly and taste as you go.
You need to decide that your home deserves effort. That your table deserves warmth. That your people deserve something that feels intentional.
