James Corden mocks Trump’s White House return with Paul McCartney parody: ‘Maybe I’m Immune’
“The Late Late Show” host James Corden took a shot at President Trump’s erratic behavior after his COVID-19 diagnosis with a parody of Paul McCartney’s 1970 hit, “Maybe I’m Amazed” on Tuesday night. “Maybe I’m Immune” is based on Trump’s statement after returning to the White House from the hospital on Monday night when he…
“The Late Late Show” host James Corden took a shot at President Trump’s erratic behavior after his COVID-19 diagnosis with a parody of Paul McCartney’s 1970 hit, “Maybe I’m Amazed” on Tuesday night.
“Maybe I’m Immune” is based on Trump’s statement after returning to the White House from the hospital on Monday night when he wondered, “Maybe I’m immune?”
The song is funny but it also highlights Corden’s beautiful Elton John-esque singing voice and solid piano skills.
The song is intercut with clips of Trump’s doctor, Sean Conley’s questionable attempts to suggest the president was in good health after being diagnosed with a deadly virus. It also features a clip of Trump speculating that the virus could be cured by injecting bleach.
The end of the song touches on the president’s “immunity” to the fact that he’s trailing Joe Biden substantially in the polls. On Monday, a CNN poll came out showing Biden with a 16-point lead among likely voters.
On Wednesday, a Rasmussen poll came out saying that Biden has a 12-point lead over Trump. Rasmussen has traditionally been seen as a conservative-leaning polls.
Lyrics to “Maybe I’m Immune”
Maybe I’m immune ’cause today I’m feeling so alive
Just don’t be afraid of the way I’m breathing
Maybe I’m immune, it’s okay to go out for a ride, with others trapped inside
Maybe you’re immune to the lies my doctors tell you
Maybe I’m a man and maybe I don’t wear a mask because I don’t care about others
Science, I don’t really understand
Maybe I’m a man and maybe I’m just high from this experimental cocktail
Maybe I just need some oxygen
Maybe I’m immune to the ways the polls are looking now
Maybe I’m afraid it’s not fake news
Maybe I’m immune to all the lies that I have made, I shouldn’t have downplayed
Maybe I’m afraid of the way that I might lose this
Maybe on November 3 I just might lose this
“Maybe I’m Amazed” is notable for being Paul McCartney’s first big solo hit after leaving The Beatles in 1970. The song was the second to last track on his first solo album, “McCartney” in which Paul played every instrument alongside vocal contributions from his wife, Linda.
The album has been back in the press recently after rumors that McCartney is looking to release “McCartney III” at the end of the year. It would be the third album in McCartney’s catalog where he plays the instruments by himself. “McCartney II” was released in 1980.
A single door can open up a world of endless possibilities. For homeowners, the front door of their house is a gateway to financial stability, job security, and better health. Yet for many, that door remains closed. Due to the rising costs of housing, 1 in 3 people around the world wake up without the security of safe, affordable housing.
Since 1976, Habitat for Humanity has made it their mission to unlock and open the door to opportunity for families everywhere, and their efforts have paid off in a big way. Through their work over the past 50 years, more than 65 million people have gained access to new or improved housing, and the movement continues to gain momentum. Since 2011 alone, Habitat for Humanity has expanded access to affordable housing by a hundredfold.
A world where everyone has access to a decent home is becoming a reality, but there’s still much to do. As they celebrate 50 years of building, Habitat for Humanity is inviting people of all backgrounds and talents to be part of what comes next through Let’s Open the Door, a global campaign that builds on this momentum and encourages people everywhere to help expand access to safe, affordable housing for those who need it most. Here’s how the foundation to a better world starts with housing, and how everyone can pitch in to make it happen.
Volunteers raise a wall for the framework of a new home during the first day of building at Habitat for Humanity’s 2025 Carter Work Project.
Globally, almost 3 billion people, including 1 in 6 U.S. families, struggle with high costs and other challenges related to housing. A crisis in itself, this also creates larger problems that affect families and communities in unexpected ways. People who lack affordable, stable housing are also more likely to experience financial hardship in other areas of their lives, since a larger share of their income often goes toward rent, utilities, and frequent moves. They are also more likely to experience health problems due to chronic stress or environmental factors, such as mold. Housing insecurity also goes hand-in-hand with unstable employment, since people may need to move further from their jobs or switch jobs altogether to offset the cost of housing.
Affordable homeownership creates a stable foundation for families to thrive, reducing stress and increasing the likelihood for good health and stable employment. Habitat for Humanity builds and repairs homes with individual families, but it also strengthens entire communities as well. The MicroBuild® Initiative, for example, strengthens communities by increasing access to loans for low-income families seeking to build or repair their homes. Habitat ReStore locations provide affordable appliances and building materials to local communities, in addition to creating job and volunteer opportunities that support neighborhood growth.
Marsha and her son pose for a photo while building their future home with Southern Crescent Habitat for Humanity in Georgia.
Everyone can play a part in the fight for housing equity and the pursuit of a better world. Over the past 50 years, Habitat for Humanity has become a leader in global housing thanks to an engaged network of volunteers—but you don’t need to be skilled with a hammer to make a meaningful impact. Building an equitable future means calling on a wide range of people and talents.
Here’s how you can get involved in the global housing movement:
Speaking up on social media about the growing housing crisis
Volunteering on a Habitat for Humanity build in your local community
Travel and build with Habitat in the U.S. or in one of 60+ countries where we work around the globe
Join the Let’s Open the Door movement and, when you donate, you can create your own personalized door
Every action, big and small, drives a global movement toward a better future. A safe home unlocks opportunity for families and communities alike, but it’s volunteers and other supporters, working together with a shared vision, who can open the door for everyone.
Dealing with hecklers just comes with the territory of being a comedian. But flirting with them? That wasn’t something Rebecca Reingold had prepared for.
On March 11, the New York City-based stand-up comic uploaded a recent set to her Instagram aptly captioned “We found love in a hopeless place (a comedy club).”
In the now-viral clip, Reingold shared a bit about not being “good” at flirting with men, saying that she would inadvertently “be mean” to them “because they liked it.”
Then, during the set, someone from the crowd must have been talking too enthusiastically, because Reingold playfully called them out for being loud. This someone, a man, responded that he was with his parents at the show, to which Reingold quipped, “You look bad. Your parents look a lot younger than you.”
Without missing a beat, the man in the audience responded that, given the logic she gave just moments earlier, she must like him, since she was throwing shots at him.
“Oh yeah, you’re right! That does mean I like you! You were listening. Oh my god, I’m in love,” said Reingold, blushing. “You’re so annoying but so loveable so its so tough, you know what I mean?”
Over 16 million viewers later, and people were applauding both Reingold’s ability to go with the flow, and this mysterious man’s mad game. Many were hoping that this became an actual meet-cute.
“Damn she really turned red when she realised he listened.”
“You handled this so well 👏🙌”
“… and, that is how I met your mother.”
“The fact that he did not drop the ‘I’ll shut up in exchange for your number’ line is mind boggling to me.”
“So when’s the wedding. Lol”
Romantic antagonism IRL
Perhaps people were rallying for this interaction to lead to romantic entanglement because it resembles the ever-popular enemies-to-lovers trope found in countless rom-coms and romantasies. This dynamic of building attraction through animosity and tension makes for great entertainment…but does it make for healthy relationships in real life? The annoying but accurate answer is, of course: it depends.
Primarily, it depends on a) whether both partners are enjoying the teasing and b) whether the jokes are landing in sensitive territory. If both those parameters are met, it can become its own love language. If not, then it can foster resentment.
This can obviously become even more complicated when it comes to flirting, since there is already a lot of indirect language happening between strangers. But at least in this case it looked like everyone was having a good time.
Sadly, it has yet to be revealed whether or not Reingold and this heckler ever did connect after the show. We’ll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, be sure to give her a follow on Instagram to stay tuned on both her comedy stylings and, perhaps, her love life.
Jade Tompkins, who goes by @Craftyhag on social media, made a simple video on TikTok. In a moment of pure vulnerability, she humbly shared her story. What she might have felt was merely a cool accomplishment feels, to many of us watching, like a triumph.
In the clip, she sits at a table in a simple gray sweater with yellow flowers, holding colorful ropes. Looking straight into the camera, she asks, “You guys wanna see something cool? I don’t have a lot of friends, or at least people who can be proud of me, I guess. I’m 40-something, and I get to graduate with a bachelor’s degree in a few weeks or a month, I guess.”
Tompkins takes a slight pause and adds, “I grew up in foster care, and a lot of people might not know this. But people in foster care–like less than 2 percent of them, I looked it up–of people in foster care go on to get a bachelor’s degree. I don’t know, maybe it’s just because I’m older.”
And Tompkins is right. The numbers for people who experience life in foster care are extremely challenging. More recent numbers say only about 3-4% of people with a background in foster care end up graduating with a bachelor’s degree, compared with more than 30% of the general population, according to research.
She takes a breath, seemingly letting the information she just shared sink in, even for herself. “Anyway, I just wanted to show you guys. I don’t even know if I’m gonna go to graduation, but I still got the stuff just in case.” She holds up a red, satin-looking sash. “This is my stole thing. And I got all these cords. And if I do go, I don’t know if I’m gonna wear them or not.”
Her achievements are nothing short of incredible. “My grades are really good. I have almost a 3.9. And I’ve worked full time since I’ve been doing it, so that feels like a big accomplishment. And I joined student associations and stuff.”
Picking up her graduation hat, she shows off the colorful writing on top. “So this is my graduation hat. I had it made. It says, ‘You’re never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.’ So I thought that was kind of appropriate. And I already got accepted to a Master’s program, so I think that’s kind of cool.”
She ends the video as humbly as she began it. “Anyway, I just wanted to share because I don’t really have a lot of people to share it with. And I guess if anyone sees it and thinks, ‘Hey, I should go back to school,’ and you have the means or the dream or wish to do it and think you can, whatever. I don’t know. Just thought I’d share.”
“Walk for all of us!”
Her story was exactly what a lot of people needed to hear. On TikTok alone, she has nearly 850,000 likes and almost 70,000 comments.
“Foster kid to foster kid, please walk,” one person shared. “Walk for all of us! Walk for those of us that are still trying to find out confidence. Walk for those of us that are not sure if we should dream. Walk for those of us that want to see our own kind SHINE. Your shine will help to light another’s pathway. I can say that the Class of Foster Kids, we are proud of you! Keep going.”
Even some corporations, like Hilton (and many others), jumped into the chat. They sent her a little gift, writing, “Jade, milestones like this deserve to be celebrated. DMing you as we’d like to send something sweet your way.”
This TikToker might have summed up what so many seem to think: “1. You’re f-ing awesome! 2. That cap is f-ing awesome. 3. Damn, that’s a lot of cords. 4. Your TikTok friends are f-ing proud of you!”
According to an update posted just under a month later, Tompkins did attend and “walk” at graduation. Chyroned over a meme, she writes, “Me deciding to go to graduation because 700,000 people convinced me to go.”
She had just been let go from her job as a bank teller. The mistake was an $800 error she couldn’t fix, and when she came back to work her manager told her she was done. She got on the train home feeling “so sad,” as she put it, and cried.
Then, instead of sitting with the loss, she prayed. Not a prayer asking for something, but one offering thanks. “God, thank you so much for allowing me to have this job for so long,” she said quietly. She put on a worship song.
Fifteen seconds later, her phone rang.
A woman looks at her cell phone. Photo credit: Canva
The man on the other end had a cheerful voice. His sister, he explained, had worked with her at the bank and spoken highly of her, perticularly her kindness and her service. Based on that, he thought she’d be a good fit for his company. She got the job that same day.
The woman, who shares the story on TikTok under the handle @ashp_tv, posted about it in March and it spread quickly. The timing is the part that gets people because it’s not just that something good followed something hard, but how fast it happened, and that the call came specifically because someone had noticed how she’d treated people at the job she’d just lost.
“All you need is faith,” she said. Whether you take that literally or as shorthand for something more like trust and openness, the story holds up either way.
Chris Robarge had rented a house after his divorce, his first place on his own during a hard stretch of his life. He paid his rent, eventually moved on, and didn’t think much more about it.
Then, years later, his former landlord reached out asking for his current address. A day later, a check for $2,500 arrived in the mail with a handwritten note.
The landlord had sold the house. And before keeping the profit, they tracked down every tenant who had ever lived there because, as the note explained, those monthly rent payments had helped pay off the mortgage. The tenants had contributed to the equity. It only seemed right to give some of it back.
“While it’s not much, it’s yours,” the letter read. “It was a great house, and I’m glad that I was able to share it with you.”
Chris posted about it on Facebook, where it spread quickly partly because people were so unused to a landlord story going this direction. He wrote that there’s a difference between people who talk about their values and people who actually live them, and that this was the clearest example of the latter he’d ever seen personally. “Do it off the clock, do it when no one is watching, do it always,” he wrote.
A man hands out cash to someone. Photo credit: Canva
He kept $500 to fix his car. The rest he gave away to Black and Pink Massachusetts, to free fridges in Worcester, to OurStory Edutainment, and directly to people on the street who needed it. He turned an unexpected windfall into a chain of smaller ones.
One Facebook commenter said she’d started reading the post braced for bad news like a surprise bill or some old debt being called in, and was so conditioned to that outcome that the actual ending genuinely shocked her. Which is maybe the most telling part of the whole story.
During an interview with People promoting the upcoming The Devil Wears Prada 2, Anne Hathaway was asked how she navigates growing older. She noted the importance of taking self-care seriously, remaining curious, and appreciating being in a place where you can assess decisions made earlier in life.
But it was what she said next, almost as an afterthought, that really got folks talking.
“I wanna have a long, healthy life. Inshallah, I hope so,” she casually but sincerely told her interviewer. The phrase, also spelled “insh’Allah,” translates to “if God wills” or “God willing,” and is deeply rooted in Islam.
However, it is also part of Arab culture in general. Religious or otherwise, people use it to convey resolute hope for the future while acknowledging that life follows its own plan.
Bridge-building moment
This ignited a positive frenzy online among Muslim and Arabic viewers, who were not only thrilled to hear the term used, but to hear it used correctly.
Rather than being seen as performative, the overall consensus was that this was a refreshing, bridge-building moment across cultures.
“Use it the way Anne Hathaway used it—honestly, humbly, in a moment when you genuinely want something good and know that wanting is only the beginning,” praised author Qasim Rashid.
Perhaps the timing of this interview has also contributed to its virality. Just weeks ago at Coachella, Sabrina Carpenter received backlash for her “this is weird” reaction when fans began engaging in the Zaghrouta, a celebratory, high-pitched ululation traditionally used in Arab cultures.
So, for someone equally high-profile to actually promote rather than seemingly reject a piece of Arab culture has been viewed as a kind of karmic recompense.
As HuffPost contributor Syeda Khaula Saad put it, “It just feels nice to be represented in mainstream media in an accepting, inclusive light. I hope that we get to see much more, insha’Allah.”
And as she pointed out, recently another Arabic word was brought into the mainstream when Muslim Egyptian American actor Ramy Youssef taught Elmo to say “habibi” (meaning “my love” or “my friend”) on an episode of Sesame Street.
“We have been dehumanized, portrayed in the worst way by the media for years.. I swear to GOD elmo saying ‘habibi’ made me teary and somehow healed the inner child that has been called the worst things for being different growing up,” one viewer wrote on Instagram.
It goes to show that when it comes to respecting other cultures, it doesn’t take a grand gesture. Even a word, when said correctly and with genuine intent, can extend an olive branch.
Perhaps this wisdom can be especially applied to mainstream media, where negative stereotypes run rampant alongside baffling overcorrections. Sometimes, it really is as simple as making space for what exists beyond your own lived experience and engaging with it.
Whether or not you agree that Hathaway executed this perfectly, may we all agree that the world could use more people looking to build bridges rather than reject what’s unfamiliar.
A gate agent at an airport had a young man screaming at him that his flight needed to take off. The flight had been delayed due to weather. The agent gave his practiced apology and explained the situation. The young man kept pushing.
The agent, who shares the story on Instagram Threads as @mr.freak_22_, had been doing this job long enough to develop a thick skin. He’d heard every version of the entitled passenger routine. He was preparing to hold the line.
Then the young man told him why.
A traveller delayed at an airport. Photo credit: Canva
“You don’t understand. My mom is in hospice. The nurse just called. She has maybe hours left. I just need to hold her hand one last time.”
The agent’s entire calculation changed. His own airline had nothing available. He pulled out his personal phone and started searching competitor flights. He found one for $450, leaving from another terminal. He looked at the young man, who was hyperventilating, and didn’t ask him for the money. He just bought the ticket.
“I printed the boarding pass, shoved it into his hand, and said, ‘Run to Terminal B. Gate 12. Go.’”
Two days later he called back and left a message. He’d made it in time.
The agent posted about it because he wanted to push back on something he’d been thinking about. People assume gate agents are cold and robotic, just like people assume young men demanding things at airport counters are being entitled. Neither assumption held up that day. “Sometimes the rules don’t matter nearly as much as the reasons,” he wrote.
Since childhood, Kenan Thompson has practiced his craft as a comedic actor and sketch performer. As an adult, he’s been making audiences laugh at Saturday Night Livesince 2003. During his tenure, he had been in drag lampooning Maya Angelou, Jennifer Hudson, and other Black women who were public figures. In 2013, he refused to portray a woman ever again on SNL. That line in the sand ended up launching many comedy careers.
At the time, out of the 16 SNL cast members, there were only two other persons of color: Black comedian and actor Jay Pharoah, and Iranian-born American actress, Nasim Pedrad. This meant that either Thompson or Pharoah would have to don a wig and a dress if the show was spoofing a Black woman celebrity. As the longest running cast member on SNL, Thompson felt comfortable to publicly state that he wouldn’t portray a woman ever again. Pharoah backed him up and even pitched potential Black women comedians and producers.
The audition that launched a new wave of comedians
The move forced the producers to conduct a search for at least one Black female cast member by January 2014. The search led to Sasheer Zamata, who joined the cast until 2017. Since then, she’s gone on to other opportunities as a stand-up comedian and actress. Some of her roles include movies such as 2021’s The Mitchells vs. the Machines and Marvel and Disney+’s 2024 series Agatha All Along.
Even though Zamata claimed the spot on SNL, many of her fellow auditioners were noticed for other comedy jobs. After Zamata’s casting had been announced, the runner-up, Amber Ruffin, was almost immediately staffed as a writer for Late Night with Seth Meyers. Ruffin still currently works as a writer on the show while also getting other opportunities. She wrote her own sitcom, hosted her own comedy talk show, and participates as a talking head on Have I Got News For You.
There was another future SNL all-star who wasn’t immediately cast, but hired on as a writer. However, she was promoted to a full cast member before the end of 2014. That person? Leslie Jones, who has since launched into film and television superstardom.
Many other household names were first noticed at the search
Even though they didn’t get the job, many other funny Black women broke out at that audition. Tiffany Haddish would get recurring roles in TV shows like The Carmichael Show and star in the ultra-popular film, Girls Trip. Nicole Byer would have several live-action and voice-over roles while also hosting reality shows like Nailed It. In fact, Byer co-hosts a podcast with Zamata called Best Friends.
It should be noted that these women likely would have found success without this SNL audition. Kenan Thompson would not and is not taking credit for their success. However, it is funny how refusing to wear a dress was one small push that created momentum in several different directions for so many talented people.
It’s 5:45 p.m. Your feet ache, the kids are hungry, and the idea of making dinner—again—feels like a personal attack. You open the fridge, close it again, and briefly consider disappearing into the couch.
That sense of dread? Women have wrestled with it for generations.
In the early 1960s, the “ideal” American housewife supposedly lived for her time in the kitchen. Magazines showed smiling women in crisp aprons, beaming over from‑scratch casseroles and perfect party spreads. Ads promised that the right oven or cake mix would make home life “joyful.”
Women have been held to impossible standards for generations. Canva
Behind those glossy pages, a lot of women felt exhausted, underappreciated, and quietly furious.
Into that pressure cooker walked Peg Bracken. With a martini in one hand and a can of cream of mushroom soup in the other, she did something radical for her time: she said, out loud, that she hated cooking. Then she wrote a cookbook for everyone who felt the same way.
Her 1960 bestseller, The I Hate to Cook Book, did not offer easy recipes. It gave women at the time something much more powerful: permission to stop pretending that dinner was the highlight of their day.
Who was Peg Bracken, really?
Before she became a household name, Peg Bracken worked as an ad copywriter in Portland, Oregon. That job gave her a front‑row seat to the way media sold the “happy homemaker” myth: a smiling woman who kept a spotless house, raised perfect children, and produced beautiful meals night after night.
Bracken knew women like that didn’t exist. And if they did, they probably needed a nap.
The cover of Peg Bracken’s I Hate to Cook Book. Amazon
At home, she struggled to balance marriage, motherhood, and an endless to-do list. The gap between what people told her she should feel about housework and what she felt—boredom, resentment, fatigue—grew too wide to ignore.
So, she started talking about it with her friends.
Over lunch with a group of working women she jokingly called “the Hags,” Bracken and her friends swapped what she later called “shabby little secrets.” They admitted they didn’t want to spend hours in the kitchen. They confessed that they relied on canned soup, frozen vegetables, and boxed mixes. They traded recipes that kept their households fed with the least possible effort.
Bracken collected the group’s favorite culinary shortcuts—and added her own, too—and wrapped everything up in her signature dry, self-aware humor. The result: a manuscript for The I Hate to Cook Book—a cookbook for women who felt tired of pretending that making dinner was the best part of their day.
Nope! They guessed wrong. A woman editor took a chance on Peg Bracken, and when the book was published in 1960, it sold more than three million copies. All those “happy homemakers”? A lot of them turned out to be Hags at heart.
Key contributions to culinary history
From the first line of her cookbook—“Some women, it is said, like to cook. This book is not for them,” Peg Bracken signaled to the world her intentions. She did not teach readers how to make the perfect soufflé. Instead, she tried to help women get through the week.
In an era when ‘serious’ cookbooks pushed fancy technique and fresh ingredients, Bracken leaned into convenience. Her recipes called for condensed soups, frozen and canned vegetables, bouillon cubes, and powdered mixes. Dishes like ‘Stayabed Stew’ and ‘Skid Road Stroganoff’ took about 15 minutes to prepare. After that, the oven did the work while you lay in bed with a book or a box of tissues.
While society equated womanhood with constant self-sacrifice, Bracken suggested another metric: Did everyone eat? Did you keep at least a shred of your sanity? If yes, then you are enough. That counted.
Most cookbooks published around this time sounded stern or reverent. Bracken’s writing sounded like a smart friend on the phone.
One famous instruction tells readers to let the dish cook “while you light a cigarette and stare sullenly at the sink.” Another recipe begins with a small shot of whiskey “for medicinal purposes.” She did not mock women who cooked for their families; she offered them comfort, support, and maybe a little laughter, when it seemed called for.
On the surface, women bought The I Hate to Cook Book for its recipes and advice. But beneath the cream-of-mushroom casseroles and Frito-laden specials lay an offer: to quietly challenge the idea that a woman’s highest calling meant crafting elaborate meals with a permanent smile.
Bracken rolled her eyes at the notion that adding an egg to a cake mix should satisfy a woman’s creative urge. She pointed instead to painting, writing, gardening, and studying as other ways women could use their minds. For women reading her at the kitchen table, that shift felt like a small revolution. Maybe nothing was ‘wrong’ with them.
A few years before The Feminine Mystique put words to ‘the problem that has no name,’ Bracken described a similar ache. She talked about the “dailiness” of cooking: the way the obligation hangs over a woman’s head from the moment she wakes up, the knowledge that no matter what else she does, dinner still looms.
While ads and advice columns told women to find joy in that work, Bracken boldly asked: What if you didn’t? What would happen if you admitted that housework often felt boring, thankless, and overrated?
What would happen if you admitted that housework often felt boring, thankless, and overrated? Canva
Not everyone welcomed that. Some traditional food writers and chefs dismissed Bracken’s canned‑soup cooking as an insult to ‘real’ food. At home, her husband’s “It stinks” line said plenty about how he felt watching his wife build a career—and a public persona—around not loving domesticity.
Even some women felt torn. Those who genuinely loved to cook sometimes heard her embrace of ‘good enough’ as a knock on their craft. Others feared that shortcuts would trigger judgment from neighbors or in‑laws.
But three million copies told a different story. The fight was never really about using canned soup versus scratch stock. It centered on who gets to define ‘good womanhood,’ and whether it was time for women themselves to redraw the lines.
Highlights from The I Hate to Cook Book
If you flip through The I Hate to Cook Book today, its recipes are clearly from a different time. Who makes celery-soup casseroles, or would want to eat processed mixes, anyway?
But underneath the midcentury pantry staples, there are themes and messages that still land even today. First, there’s the solidarity with women. Bracken writes as if she’s sitting at your kitchen table, not lecturing from a test kitchen. She assumes you’re tired, that you’re busy. She assumes that this—cooking a meal for your family every night—is not “the best part of your day” but work, and that you’d rather be doing anything else.
Second, she lowers the bar, deliberately. Again and again, she tells readers to stop torturing themselves with impossible standards. She advises against calculating the number of meals you’ll cook in a lifetime—“this only staggers the imagination and raises the blood pressure,” she jokes—and, instead, to take it day by day. One dinner at a time.
The “Stayabed Stew” is designed for days when you’re running on fumes, a dish that simmers in the oven while you stay in bed. It’s built around the promise that something hot and filling can appear with almost no effort from you.
“Hootenholler Whisky Cake” starts with pouring yourself a shot of whiskey. A small joke, yes, but also a reminder: you are allowed to tend to yourself in the middle of tending to everyone else.
For many, Bracken’s cookbook doubled as a survival manual. Canva
For readers who felt ambivalent or outright hostile toward cooking, Bracken’s book doubled as a survival manual. Simple recipes gave women options for dinner. Parsley and paprika did a lot of the heavy lifting. “Serviceable and done” became a valid and honorable goal. Taken together, these details sketch a woman who wasn’t trying to kill home cooking. She was simply carving a new path, one where feeding your family didn’t have to swallow your whole self.
That’s what makes Peg Bracken feel surprisingly modern. Her core insights were never actually about soup; they were about emotional relief. You don’t have to enjoy the labor on your plate just because someone told you it’s “supposed to be” your source of joy.
If the thought of making dinner tonight fills you with dread, Bracken’s legacy offers a small, compassionate shift. Maybe the “right” meal is the one that keeps you from crying into the cutting board. Maybe boxed mac and cheese or a rotisserie chicken on the counter is not a failure, but a wise use of the only energy you’ve got.
Dinner doesn’t have to be perfect. You don’t either.
