The story behind the table, the recipes, and the woman who brings it all together.
It started eleven years ago with a mismatched set of folding tables, a borrowed tablecloth, six friends who all lived too far from their families, and one very ambitious 22-pound turkey. I had never cooked a turkey before. I had barely cooked for more than four people before. But something about the occasion — that scrappy, joyful, chosen-family energy of Friendsgiving — made me want to go all in.
The turkey came out imperfect but delicious. The stuffing was too salty. The pie crust was store-bought (and I'm not apologizing for it). But we sat around that table for four hours, eating and laughing and talking about everything and nothing, and I knew that I wanted to do this every single year for the rest of my life.
Eleven years later, I still host Friendsgiving every November. The guest list has grown. The recipes have gotten a lot better. And somewhere along the way, this became more than just an annual tradition — it became my passion, my creative outlet, and eventually, this website.
Browse All Recipes
"Friendsgiving isn't about perfection — it's about showing up, cooking with love, and making people feel at home."— Iris Miller, FriendgivingFoodIdeas.com
For a lot of us, traditional Thanksgiving doesn't always look the way we imagined it would. Life scatters people — new cities, new relationships, new circumstances. Friendsgiving grew out of that reality: it's Thanksgiving reimagined around the family you choose.
But here's what I noticed over the years: so many people want to host Friendsgiving, but they don't know where to start. They're intimidated by the turkey. They don't know how to scale recipes for 10 or 15 people. They want to go beyond the same green bean casserole every year, but they're not sure what's safe to experiment with when the stakes feel high.
That's exactly the gap this site fills. Every recipe here was designed with the home cook in mind — someone who wants to impress their guests without spending 14 hours in the kitchen or needing culinary school training. I test everything multiple times, take notes obsessively, and only publish what I'd genuinely serve at my own table.
Because that's the point: your Friendsgiving table deserves the best. And "the best" doesn't have to mean complicated.
I grew up in a household where cooking was a language. My grandmother made everything from scratch — pies, breads, slow-cooked stews that filled the whole house with warmth. My mom was more of a pragmatist: quick weeknight dinners, sheet pan meals, everything done in under 30 minutes. From both of them, I learned something essential: good food is about intention, not complexity.
In my twenties, I started really experimenting. I worked my way through basic French techniques, then dove into regional American cuisines, then got fascinated by Asian noodle dishes and the kind of slow-braise cooking that turns cheap cuts into something extraordinary. None of this happened in a professional kitchen — it all happened in apartments with tiny ovens and dull knives and a love of eating well.
When I started hosting Friendsgiving in earnest, I brought all of that together. My table has always been eclectic: a classic roast turkey next to a Thai noodle salad, a cranberry sauce made with kumquats, a German-style potato dish sitting comfortably next to buttery American cornbread. Because that's what Friendsgiving is — a gathering of different influences, all at the same table.
That philosophy is baked into every recipe on this site. You'll find comfort food classics alongside unexpected flavor combinations. You'll find recipes with five ingredients next to ones that ask for a bit more patience. What you won't find is anything I haven't cooked myself, tasted myself, and genuinely loved.
This site is organized around the five categories that, in my experience, make up a complete Friendsgiving spread — and then some.
Every single recipe on this site has been cooked in my home kitchen. Not a test kitchen with professional-grade equipment and a team of sous chefs — my actual kitchen, with my regular oven and whatever knives I happened to sharpen last week.
I don't publish a recipe until it works. That means I've made it at least twice, usually more. I've made mistakes so you don't have to: the turkey I overbrined, the caramel that seized, the noodle dish that was incredible on the first attempt and completely different (in a bad way) on the second, which led me to figure out exactly why and fix it.
When I write a recipe, I try to write it the way I wish recipes had been written for me when I was learning: with the "why" explained, with clear instructions at each stage, and with honest notes about what can go wrong and how to avoid it. I also always include make-ahead tips, because Friendsgiving is about enjoying time with your guests — not being trapped in the kitchen while everyone else is having fun.
I don't do sponsored recipes. Every recommendation on this site reflects my honest opinion. If I tell you a technique works or an ingredient is worth buying, it's because I believe it — not because someone paid me to say it.
When I'm not cooking or writing, I'm probably at a farmers market loading up on whatever looks interesting, or hiking somewhere with a thermos of something warm, or hosting an entirely-too-ambitious dinner party for no particular reason. I'm a firm believer that you don't need a holiday to cook something special for the people you love.
I live in the Pacific Northwest with my partner, two very opinionated cats, and an herb garden that I tend with more enthusiasm than skill. (The rosemary is thriving. The cilantro has given up on me entirely.)
I started Friendsgiving Food Ideas because I wanted a resource that treated home cooks like the capable, intelligent people they are — not a place that talked down to you with "failproof" recipes that assumed you'd never turned on an oven before, but also not an intimidating chef's site full of techniques that require years of training.
You're an adult. You can handle medium-difficulty recipes. You can read a recipe all the way through before you start cooking. And you deserve dishes that genuinely taste incredible, not just "pretty good for a first try."
That's my promise. That's this site. I'm really glad you're here.
I love hearing from readers. Whether you made one of my recipes and want to share how it went, you have a question about a technique, or you just want to say hello — my inbox is always open.