Chapters and Cravings

Some recipe reviews begin with a craving, a tempting photograph or an ingredient waiting to be used. This one began for a much sadder reason.

Dolly Parton has always been there in some form throughout my life. I grew up hearing my aunts singing her songs, long before I was old enough to understand just how much of an icon she really was. Then, as a young teenager, I watched her appearances as Aunt Dolly in Hannah Montana. As I got older, my love and admiration for her only grew.

Of course, there was the unmistakable voice, the enormous hair, the rhinestones and a catalogue of songs known around the world—but there was so much more to Dolly than that. Despite reaching a level of fame most people could never begin to imagine, she always seemed wonderfully down to earth. She was funny, warm, generous and completely unafraid to be herself. She never appeared to have forgotten where she came from, and she used her success to bring happiness and opportunities to other people.

When I saw that she had released Good Lookin’ Cookin’ with her sister, Rachel Parton George, I knew I had to add it to my cookbook shelf. It wasn’t simply another celebrity cookbook. It felt like an invitation into their family kitchen—a collection filled with the dishes, memories and traditions that had followed them through their lives.

After hearing the heartbreaking news of Dolly’s passing, it felt only right to finally take the book down from the shelf and cook from it properly. I could think of no better way to appreciate and honour her than by making some of the family recipes she chose to share with us.

So, this became Dolly weekend.

I turned on her music, brought my little Dolly Funko Pop into the kitchen and planned a complete Southern-style Sunday dinner: Family Favorite Meatloaf, Whipped Potatoes and Southern Green Beans, followed by Chocolate Cobbler for dessert.

Comforting, homely and made to be shared—it felt exactly right.

Good Lookin’ Cookin’ is written by Dolly and her younger sister, Rachel, and it feels every bit as warm and welcoming as you would expect. The book is arranged around different occasions and seasons, but it is the family feeling running through it that makes it special.

This isn’t a book filled with tiny portions, complicated restaurant techniques or ingredients that require an expedition to find. These are generous, comforting recipes designed to bring people together around a table. The stories and memories scattered throughout make it feel personal too, as though Dolly and Rachel are chatting away while you cook.

There were plenty of recipes I could have chosen, but I didn’t want to make just one dish for this review. I wanted a proper meal—something that felt like the sort of Sunday dinner you would sit down and enjoy with family.

The Family Favorite Meatloaf immediately caught my attention, especially when paired with Whipped Potatoes and Southern Green Beans. Once I spotted the Chocolate Cobbler, dessert was settled too. There was absolutely no way a warm, self-saucing chocolate pudding was being left behind.

In fact, I doubled it. Some risks simply aren’t worth taking.

Before I could begin, there was a little converting to do. The recipes are written using American cups and ounces, while my kitchen—and my brain—work much more happily in grams and millilitres.

Most of the ingredients were easy enough to find. For the half-and-half used in the Whipped Potatoes, I used an equal mixture of whole milk and single cream. It gave me the milk-and-cream balance I needed without having to hunt for an American ingredient that isn’t normally sold under the same name here.

The original Chocolate Cobbler recipe also looked a little too sensible in size for a family Sunday dinner, so I doubled the full recipe. That meant twice the chocolate, twice the sauce and, hopefully, enough left for another helping.

Sensible decisions were made.

With all the conversions written down, ingredients gathered and Dolly playing in the background, it was finally time to cook.

Meatloaf is one of those dishes that instantly feels comforting. It isn’t particularly glamorous—and I’m not sure even Dolly could persuade a raw meatloaf mixture to pose beautifully for a photograph—but it is proper family food.

Dolly and Rachel’s version combines beef and pork mince with rolled oats, evaporated milk, green pepper and ketchup. The ingredients are simple, but it was the finished flavour and texture I was most curious about. I wanted a meatloaf that held together when sliced without becoming dry or heavy.

The meatloaf mixture was much wetter than others I’ve made before—there was definitely no shaping this one neatly by hand! I simply poured the mixture straight into the loaf tin and trusted the process. Despite the different consistency, I didn’t need to make any changes to the recipe.

I did have to turn the oven temperature up while it was cooking, although I’m fairly certain that says more about my oven being on its way out than it does about the recipe. It doesn’t heat up as quickly as it should anymore!

The meatloaf smelled incredible as it cooked, especially once the glaze was added.

Despite how wet the mixture had been, the finished meatloaf held together well enough to cut into proper slices. The inside was moist and tender rather than dry or overly dense.

The combination of beef and pork mince worked brilliantly, giving it a richer flavour and softer texture than beef alone, while the oats blended into the mixture rather than standing out.

Flavour-wise, everything worked really well together. The glaze brought a lovely sweet and tangy finish, while the green pepper and seasoning kept the meatloaf firmly on the savoury side. There may have been a little more peppery warmth than Big Boy would have chosen, but it certainly wasn’t enough to stop him enjoying his dinner.

I did make some gravy for the boys because, in their eyes, anything resembling a Sunday dinner naturally requires gravy!

Big Boy enjoyed the whole dinner, although he thought something on the plate was a little spicy—perhaps there was slightly too much pepper in one of the dishes.

My Spud liked the meatloaf and gave both the whipped potatoes and green beans a try. He did leave quite a bit behind, but he tried everything, and I’ll happily take that as a win!

Would I make it again? Yes. The beef-and-pork combination worked so well, it required no recipe changes and it was enjoyed by both boys. I would simply keep an eye on the seasoning—and hopefully cook it in a properly behaved oven next time!

Even after halving the original recipe, around 900g of potatoes still made a wonderfully generous amount. Dolly was clearly not expecting anyone to leave the table hungry.

At first glance, the Whipped Potatoes appeared reassuringly simple: potatoes, butter and half-and-half. For my UK version, I replaced the half-and-half with an equal mixture of whole milk and single cream. The real test would be whether whipping them made a noticeable difference from my usual mash.

I used Maris Piper potatoes, which are always a reliable choice when you want a soft, fluffy mash. Once they were cooked and drained, I gave them a quick mash by hand before bringing out the electric hand mixer.

That brings me to my little practical tip: mash the potatoes slightly before using the hand mixer unless you want little pieces of potato flying around the kitchen!

Once the butter, whole milk and single cream were added, the potatoes whipped up beautifully.

These were definitely fluffy, with a lovely creamy taste from the combination of whole milk and single cream. The simple ingredients worked together to make something richer and softer than an everyday mash without becoming overly heavy.

Alongside the meatloaf—and the gravy I made for the boys—they fitted perfectly into the comforting Sunday-dinner-style plate.

Were they better than my normal mashed potatoes? They were lighter and fluffier, with more richness from the milk-and-cream combination. Whether they were better depends on what you want from your potatoes, but they definitely felt a little more special than my everyday mash.

Would I make them again? Yes, especially alongside a comforting roast-style dinner. I’ll just remember to give them that first mash by hand before turning on the mixer!

The Southern Green Beans were the part of the meal furthest from how I would usually prepare this vegetable. Rather than briefly boiling or steaming the beans and keeping plenty of bite, this recipe cooks them slowly in chicken stock with bacon.

I was interested to see how much flavour the stock and those eight rashers of bacon would add—and whether the longer Southern-style method would win me over.

The recipe stated around one hour of cooking, but I left the beans gently simmering over a low-to-medium heat for at least two hours. The smell filling the kitchen as they cooked was amazing.

I added the bacon for the final 30–45 minutes so it could cook through and flavour the beans without being in the pan for the entire two hours. By the time everything was ready, the beans had soaked up all that savoury flavour from the chicken stock and bacon.

The taste? Chef’s kiss.

The long, gentle cooking gave the beans so much more flavour than the plain green beans I would normally serve. They provided the perfect savoury contrast to the richer meatloaf and creamy potatoes.

My Spud gave them a try but did leave quite a bit on his plate. Green vegetables aren’t always going to receive the loudest applause, so the fact that he tried them still counts as a small victory!

Would I cook green beans this way again? Absolutely. I will definitely not be cooking boring green beans ever again!

Individually, these were simple family dishes. Piled together on one plate, however, they became exactly the sort of comforting Sunday dinner I had hoped for.

There was the moist beef-and-pork meatloaf beneath its glossy glaze, a generous spoonful of fluffy, creamy potatoes and the deeply savoury green beans and bacon alongside it.

Nothing about the meal was fussy or overcomplicated. It was warm, filling and made to be eaten around a table with the people you love.

Timing all three savoury recipes together required a little planning, mainly because I chose to cook the beans for much longer than the recipe stated. Starting those first gave them plenty of time to soak up the stock before the bacon went in for the final 30–45 minutes.

The meatloaf could then cook while I prepared the potatoes, although my slow-heating oven added its own little bit of chaos.

The dish that surprised me most on the plate was the Southern Green Beans. I expected them to be a nice side dish; I didn’t expect them to completely change how I want to cook green beans from now on.

As a complete dinner, it felt generous, comforting and properly homely. It was the sort of food that suited a Sunday afternoon, Dolly singing in the background and everyone waiting rather impatiently while I tried to take photographs before it went cold.

I doubled the original recipe, using 170g butter, 310g self-raising flour, 400g sugar and 240ml whole milk for the batter. The topping used a further 300g sugar, 40g cocoa powder and 710ml boiling water.

This is where doubling the recipe almost got the better of me. I should have chosen a larger baking dish from the beginning because the ingredients reached right up to the rim. About halfway through cooking, the cobbler began spilling over inside the oven and I had to transfer it into a bigger dish.

It wasn’t the calmest part of the afternoon, but just look at that finished result!

The top transformed into a deeply chocolatey, wonderfully messy pudding with glossy sauce bubbling through it. Next time, I’ll save myself the oven clean-up and start with the bigger dish.

Breaking through the top revealed a texture that was more doughy than cake-like, surrounded by plenty of thick, fudgy chocolate sauce. It was very sweet—but, to be honest, after seeing how much sugar went into it, I wasn’t exactly surprised!

Served warm with vanilla ice cream, though, it was really good. The cold, creamy ice cream worked perfectly with the warm chocolate and helped balance some of that intense sweetness.

Doubling it may have caused a little baking-dish drama, but nobody could argue with the amount of chocolate pudding waiting at the end.

Big Boy compared it to the fudgy chocolate pudding I already make and practically licked his bowl clean. My Spud, of course, absolutely devoured it—because it was chocolate, and that was really all the convincing he needed!

Would I make it again? Yes, but I probably wouldn’t need to double it every time. I would also use the larger baking dish from the very beginning.

It was extremely sweet, so this is one for serious chocolate-pudding days rather than an everyday dessert—but served warm with vanilla ice cream, it was hard to resist.

Making four recipes from the same cookbook gave me a much better feel for Good Lookin’ Cookin’ than trying only one. It also showed how well the recipes worked together as a complete meal rather than as isolated dishes.

In terms of difficulty, none of the individual recipes was particularly complicated. The challenge came from preparing four different dishes, timing the savoury parts together and dealing with a Chocolate Cobbler determined to escape its first baking dish.

The ingredients were easy enough to find in the UK once I had converted the American measurements. Replacing half-and-half with equal amounts of whole milk and single cream worked perfectly, and nothing else required a special substitution.

It certainly created a generous amount of food—and a generous amount of washing-up. Between mixing bowls, pans, the loaf tin, the original cobbler dish and then the emergency larger cobbler dish, this was never going to be a one-bowl dinner!

Most importantly, the food felt worth the time and effort. I would happily make the individual dishes again, although I would be more likely to bring selected favourites into our usual dinners than recreate all four recipes at once every time.

After making four recipes, my first proper experience of cooking from Good Lookin’ Cookin’ was warm, comforting and occasionally a little chaotic—in the best, most honest home-cooking way.

The instructions were approachable and easy to follow, and I didn’t need to change the actual recipes to make them work. The American measurements required some conversion first, but once that was done, everything felt perfectly manageable in my UK kitchen.

I particularly appreciated how the recipes used familiar ingredients to create food that tasted a little different from our normal dinners.

The only real dramas came from my temperamental oven, my decision to cook the beans for longer and my wildly optimistic choice of baking dish for a doubled Chocolate Cobbler. I can hardly blame Dolly and Rachel for those!

This feels like a cookbook for people who enjoy generous family food rather than complicated showpieces. It is approachable, traditional and comforting, with the sort of dishes that are meant to be placed in the middle of family life and enjoyed without ceremony.

After this dinner, I’m already tempted to return to the book and see which of Dolly and Rachel’s family favourites should come into my kitchen next.

It may have first caught my attention because Dolly’s name was on the cover, but the recipes proved that this deserves to be used as a proper cookbook rather than simply kept as a piece of Dolly memorabilia.

Dolly meant something slightly different to everyone, whether you grew up with her music, discovered her through a film or television appearance, admired the work she did away from the stage or simply found comfort in the warmth she shared with the world.

I’d love to hear what Dolly meant to you. Do you have a favourite song, performance or memory connected to her?

And if you own Good Lookin’ Cookin’, which of Dolly and Rachel’s family recipes should I try next?