As our plane touched down in DFW airport, we were hurriedly scrawling a grocery list for a weekend of serious eating. We had just returned from New York fashion week and we were dreaming of making fried biscuits and salted honey pie. Even a short trip makes me terribly homesick for my kitchen. This salted honey pie was consumed in Jeff’s laundry room at 10:30 pm on Sunday night in the midst of a weekend-long Cosby show marathon. It felt exactly like home. I remember this very sentimentally now.