Why No Homemade Stuffing Is Better Than a Batch of My Mom’s Pepperidge Farm

Thanksgiving brings to mind a very specific menu that appears on my family’s table every single year. Sure, there are deviations, like the year we had a vegan joining the meal and my mom and I made a whole second set of vegan dishes, or the year I finally got a salad on the menu (it’s now a staple). Yet some things are always the same: The turkey is always cooked in a bag, my dad always makes the most decadently creamy mashed potatoes (the secret is, shockingly, cream), and the stuffing is always a blue bag of Pepperidge Farm.

My mom has always made the same stuffing with Pepperidge Farm herb seasoned stuffing — the one with the craggy edges, never cubed. I have called her several times over the years to ask how she makes it taste so good. I am always so sure she has to be doing something extra, but her answer is always the same: “I add what they say on the bag, in the amounts they say on the bag.” And she doesn’t even add any of the suggested extras listed on the packaging; she simply follows the covered casserole dish baking instructions.

The thing is, stuffing is my favorite part of Thanksgiving. Like, by far the highlight of my meal. And I love all kinds — cornbread, sausage, classic, wild rice — I’m delighted to eat them all. I’ve made all kinds of stuffing, and sure they’ve been delicious, but it never tastes quite as good as my mom’s.

Until 2019, this wasn’t really an issue — I mean, it was kind of annoying that I couldn’t crack the stuffing code, but whatever. I lived in Houston close to my family and had never missed a Thanksgiving. Then I moved to New York, and in 2020 I spent my first Thanksgiving with just me and my now-fiancé. I cooked a ridiculously massive menu for just two people, but like most things in 2020, it didn’t feel anywhere close to normal. 

In the years since, we’ve only made it home for Thanksgiving once (instead we opt for a longer visit in December). I’ve made some delicious stuffings, but none can really live up to my homesick expectations. And I’m not the only one who feels this way — no matter how many bags my mom makes, there are barely any leftovers each year.

I know what you’re thinking: Just make a bag of it yourself, then, Rachel. I have. Multiple times. It’s delicious, but it’s not the same. It’s not the stuffing my mom makes in my childhood home, in the same pan she always uses. (Should we replace that pan? I should check on that). As irritating and cloying as it may be to say, I think the secret ingredient might just be my mom.

Or maybe it really is just that Pepperidge Farms makes the best stuffing. But perhaps I’m just a girl who moved far away from home and gets in her feelings around the holidays. It’s just another reminder for me that the thing I love most about a dinner, holiday or otherwise, is the opportunity to be together with family or friends (or both, if I’m very lucky!). Either way, I am making the blue bagged stuffing this year at my cabin rental in upstate New York. Then I plan to call my mom again and ask her if she’s sure there isn’t something special she’s adding to hers in Texas.