The worst part of supper for one isn't the cooking, it's the roasting pan soaking in the sink at eight o'clock. Tonight: ten chicken suppers on one little sheet pan that fits in a toaster oven, plus the foil fold that means you never wash that pan at all. A chicken breast that finally isn't dry, okra with no slime, gravy made in a coffee cup, and oven-fried chicken so crisp my mama would've called it cheating.

I'm Ritsy Jean Anderson from East Tennessee. Pull up a chair. There's always room for one more.