Top 10 Slow Cooker Christmas Recipes to Try This Year
Top 10 Slow Cooker Christmas Recipes to Try This Year

Let’s Talk Christmas Cooking
I don’t know about you, but somewhere around mid-December, my kitchen turns into a battlefield of timers, half-wrapped gifts, and grocery lists written on the backs of receipts. There’s flour in my coffee mug. Someone’s eaten the baking chocolate. And every time I think I’ve planned enough, someone casually mentions bringing “just a little something extra” to dinner — and suddenly I’m back at square one.
That’s when the slow cooker saves me.
Not because it’s trendy. Not because it’s a shortcut. But because when everything else is demanding attention — the oven’s full, the kids are hungry, and the green beans are still frozen — it’s the one thing in the kitchen that quietly does its job without fuss. You set it, it hums along, and by the time the carols hit their third round, you’ve got something hot, finished, and good enough to make people stop talking mid-bite.
I’m Adrienne, by the way. And this is my kind of holiday cooking — not perfect, not polished, but warm, slow, and meant to be shared.
Foreword – What Christmas Cooking Feels Like When You’re the One Doing It
There’s this picture-perfect idea of Christmas cooking — snow falling outside, kids sipping cocoa, everyone gathered around a golden roast, warm and glowing and effortless. But if you’re the one actually making the food, you know it doesn’t look like that.

It looks like three timers going off at once while someone asks if they can “just grab a snack.” It looks like running out of thyme at the exact moment you need it, finding a melted candy cane in your pocket, and realizing you forgot to defrost the rolls. It’s chopping onions at 7:00 a.m. while still in your pajama pants and wondering if stuffing counts as a breakfast food because you haven’t eaten yet.
That’s where the slow cooker comes in — not as a gimmick or a hack, but as a quiet backup dancer. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t crisp the top or bubble theatrically. But it shows up. It lets you prep ahead. It gives you one less thing to think about, one more thing that works on its own while you’re dealing with everything else.
I learned this the hard way one year. Power went out halfway through dinner prep. The oven was dead. The stovetop was a no-go. But the slow cooker? Still hot. Still holding. In the middle of the chaos — cold kitchen, frustrated guests, pie still frozen solid — we all ended up standing around a warm pot of cranberry meatballs and passing around forks. It wasn’t the dinner I planned. But everyone still talks about that Christmas. And the food? Gone in fifteen minutes flat.
The holidays don’t need to be perfect. But they do need food that’s warm, welcoming, and made with care — even if it’s made with a plug-in pot you set on the counter next to the toaster.
That’s what this list is. Not a countdown of clever tricks or viral hacks — just ten things I actually make, at Christmas, in my own kitchen, when I want the house to smell good and the people I love to be fed.
Why the Slow Cooker Belongs in the Holiday Rotation
For a long time, I didn’t think the slow cooker had a place in the “real” Christmas lineup. It felt too casual. Too weekday. I used it for chili and pulled pork and maybe some stew when I didn’t feel like cooking — but not for the holidays. Not when there was roast beef to tend to, pies to crimp, and casseroles demanding that one spot in the oven everyone fights over.
But then one year — I don’t even remember what pushed me over the edge — I used it for mulled wine. That was it. That one pot, in the corner of the kitchen, humming quietly all day, warming the house with cinnamon and citrus and cloves, while everything else demanded my full attention. It didn’t ask for stirring. It didn’t bubble over. It just stayed hot and ready. And that changed everything.
Because once you’ve got one dish working on autopilot — no last-minute glaze brushing, no need to be “checked” every five minutes — you start to see the slow cooker not as a shortcut, but as a strategy.
Freeing up oven space is reason enough. If your oven’s tied up with a ham, a pie, and some rolls, where does the stuffing go? Where do the carrots roast? Where do you warm the sides someone brought over in a foil pan and now expects you to serve hot? The slow cooker says: right here. Quietly. While you deal with the other dozen things.
It’s also the best tool for holding temperature. Ever tried to “keep warm” a pan of mashed potatoes in the oven? You either dry them out or scorch the edges. The slow cooker? Stays steady. Stays soft. Stays friendly. Perfect for dips, sides, drinks, even desserts. Especially when people are grazing or arriving late.
And then there’s flavor. There are just some things that benefit from a long, low cook — braised meats, spiced sauces, stews, anything you want to taste like it’s been working all day even if you threw it together between gift wrapping and mopping up spilled eggnog. Spices mellow. Onions melt. Fruit gets syrupy. And you? You get to breathe.
So no — it’s not just a weeknight hero. It’s a holiday ally. And once you make room for it next to the cookie tins and carving knives, you’ll wonder why you ever kept it out of the celebration in the first place.
Recipe 1: Slow Cooker Mulled Wine (or Cider)
Every good holiday gathering needs something warm in people’s hands. Not just because it’s cold outside — though that helps — but because there’s something anchoring about it. Something that tells the nervous guest they can relax. Something that buys the cook a few extra minutes. Something that makes the house smell like someone planned ahead, even if the cookies are still cooling and the roast hasn’t gone in.

That’s what mulled wine (or cider) does. It’s the first thing I make and the last thing I refill. And in the slow cooker? It becomes more than a drink. It becomes the kitchen’s soundtrack — bubbling gently, smelling like cloves and citrus and memory.
How I Make It
For wine, I use two bottles of something inexpensive but not bad — usually a cab or red blend. I avoid anything too sweet. Then I add:
- A few strips of orange peel (no pith)
- A couple cinnamon sticks
- 5–6 whole cloves
- A star anise pod (just one — it’s strong)
- A splash of brandy, if it’s adults-only
- A bit of honey or brown sugar — maybe a tablespoon or two
I let it heat on low for about an hour, lid off for the first 20 minutes so the scent gets out. Once it’s warm, I switch to keep warm and let people ladle their own. If the party stretches long, I top it off with more wine and maybe another splash of juice.
For cider, I swap the wine for apple cider, skip the brandy (or sub in bourbon or spiced rum), and sweeten lightly if it’s too tart. I sometimes throw in sliced apples and cranberries for looks, especially if it’s going out on a drink table.
Both versions hold well for hours. Just keep an eye on the liquid level — the steam does escape slowly, and you don’t want to be left with spice sludge by hour three.
Tips for Serving
- Set out mugs or handled glasses — not your best stemware. This is cozy stuff.
- Put out a ladle and a little bowl for spent cloves or orange peel, so people don’t fish them out with their teeth.
- Garnish if you want, but don’t fuss. A slice of orange or cinnamon stick is plenty.
- And if kids are around, the cider version lets them feel included without a sugar bomb.
This isn’t just the first recipe on the list. It’s the one I make even if nothing else gets made. It buys time. It makes people smile. And it makes the house feel like Christmas — no matter how behind I am on everything else.
Recipe 2: Cranberry Balsamic Meatballs
You know how every holiday party has that one dish people circle back to, pretending they haven’t already had four servings? That’s these. Little glazed meatballs in a tart-sweet sauce that doesn’t scream “cranberry” but still tastes like the season. They’re easy, they’re warm, they hold their own next to the fanciest roast — and best of all, they stay good for hours in a slow cooker without drying out or breaking down.

I first made these as a “just in case” option when someone showed up with surprise vegan enchiladas one Christmas Eve. I figured we might need a protein buffer. What I didn’t figure was that the meatballs would be the only thing gone before round two. They vanished.
The Base: Frozen or Homemade?
Listen, I’m all for scratch cooking, but I don’t blink twice about using frozen meatballs here — especially the good ones. If I do make my own, I go with a basic pork-beef mix, seasoned simply with salt, pepper, and garlic. No breadcrumb-heavy versions. I bake them off ahead of time so they hold their shape in the pot.
If you’re short on time? Use frozen. Just check the label: avoid the ones with weird fillers or “Italian-style” seasoning — the flavor won’t mesh well with cranberry and balsamic.
The Sauce
This is where the magic happens. I mix:
- One can of whole berry cranberry sauce
- About ⅓ cup balsamic vinegar
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- A pinch of cinnamon or clove (optional — it adds warmth)
- A splash of soy sauce or Worcestershire, for depth
- And a couple spoons of water or broth to thin it out
Stir it all in the bottom of the slow cooker, toss in the meatballs, and set it to low for 3–4 hours, or high for 1.5–2 if you’re short on time. Stir gently halfway through to coat everything evenly.
Serving Notes
I usually serve these straight from the cooker with toothpicks in a shallow dish on the side. If it’s a more formal meal, I’ll spoon them over polenta, rice, or even mashed potatoes and call it dinner. Garnish with chopped parsley or pomegranate seeds if you want to fake fancy.
These also reheat beautifully — meaning you can make them the day before, stash them in the fridge, and warm them up an hour before guests arrive.
They’re not just a crowd-pleaser. They’re a sanity-saver. If I’ve got a pot of these going, I know that no matter what else falls through — someone forgot the rolls, the pie collapsed, the power flickers — at least I’ve got one hot, satisfying thing I can hand people with confidence.
Recipe 3: Maple-Balsamic Glazed Carrots
Carrots don’t usually get a seat at the excitement table. They’re the side people expect to ignore — safe, sweet, fine if you need a vegetable on the plate. But these? These carrots get second helpings. People ask for the recipe. I’ve seen them get eaten before the ham. I’ve also seen them straight up disappear when no one was looking.

They’re soft, but never mushy. Sweet, but not syrupy. A little dark around the edges, a little tangy underneath the maple, and surprisingly complex for a root vegetable you bought in a five-pound bag.
The Setup
I use whole carrots, peeled and cut into thick coins or angled chunks — about ½ inch thick. Baby carrots will work, but they won’t hold the same texture and they’ll always feel a little too processed for my taste. The trick is size — not too thin, or they’ll fall apart.
Before they go in the pot, I toss them in a quick glaze made from:
- ¼ cup maple syrup (the real stuff, not “pancake topping”)
- 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- A pinch of salt and pepper
- Optional: a sprinkle of cinnamon, smoked paprika, or a dash of Dijon
Toss the carrots in the glaze so they’re fully coated, then pour into the slow cooker. I don’t add water or broth — the glaze is enough. Set to low for 4 hours, stir once if you remember, and test with a fork around the 3-hour mark.
What Happens in the Pot
They soften gently and slowly, absorbing the tang of the vinegar and the edge of the maple. Because you’re not drowning them in liquid, they won’t boil — they’ll roast, in a way. It’s a slow concentration of flavor instead of dilution.
If I want to push them a little further, I’ll broil them for 3–5 minutes on a sheet pan before serving. Just enough to catch the edges and caramelize that glaze. Totally optional. Totally worth it.
Serving and Extras
I finish them with a handful of toasted walnuts or pecans, and sometimes a few fresh thyme leaves. A little crunch goes a long way with something this soft. And if you’ve got a goat cheese log hanging around? A few crumbles on top make these feel like a restaurant side.
They’re great hot. Great warm. And they hold their own on a buffet — no fuss, no babysitting. Just set them out with a big spoon and watch them slowly disappear while people pretend they’re just “having a few vegetables.”
Recipe 4: Rustic Slow Cooker Stuffing
Stuffing is personal. Some people want it crisp on top, almost dry. Others want it gooey and rich, like a savory bread pudding. I land somewhere in the middle — golden on the edges, soft in the middle, flavorful enough to eat with a spoon but structured enough to hold its shape on the plate. And I’ll be honest: when I figured out how to make it in the slow cooker, I stopped putting it in the oven altogether.

Not because it’s easier — though it is. But because it frees up the one appliance everyone’s already fighting over.
The Bread Matters (and the Drying Too)
I start with a good crusty loaf — sourdough, French bread, maybe a seeded country loaf if I’m feeling fancy. Cut it into cubes and let it sit out overnight to dry, or toast it in a low oven until it’s crisp but not browned. Don’t skip this step. Fresh bread turns to mush. Stale bread holds its ground.
I use about 8 cups of cubes, give or take, depending on the slow cooker size.
The Base Mix
In a skillet, I sauté:
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 2–3 ribs celery, sliced thin
- A generous pinch of salt and pepper
- A couple cloves of garlic
- And sometimes a handful of chopped mushrooms if I want more depth
Once soft, I stir in:
- A good tablespoon of poultry seasoning or a custom mix (thyme, sage, marjoram, maybe a whisper of nutmeg)
- And ½ to ¾ cup butter — yes, really — melted right into the veg
I toss all of that with the dried bread cubes, then slowly pour in 2 to 2½ cups of broth, stirring gently so everything’s moist but not soaked. The mix should hold together if you press it, but not be dripping.
Then into the slow cooker it goes, set to low for 4–5 hours, covered. If you want some crisp edges, crack the lid open for the last 30 minutes or turn to high for the last hour. You won’t get full-on oven crunch, but you will get those golden, toasty corners.
Make It Your Own
Add-ins are fair game:
- Cooked sausage? Go for it.
- Dried cranberries or chopped apple? Adds a nice sweet contrast.
- Toasted pecans? Bring crunch and butteriness.
- Want to go full savory? A little crumbled bacon and sharp cheddar work surprisingly well.
And yes, you can make this vegetarian. Just skip the sausage, use veggie broth, and double down on the herbs and mushrooms.
The Payoff
What you get is stuffing that stays warm for hours, doesn’t dry out, and can be scooped and served as soon as people are ready. No oven. No stress. Just a pot of warm, herby bread that tastes like someone put real time into it — even if they were busy with ten other dishes.
Recipe 5: Holiday-Spiced Apple Butter
If your kitchen doesn’t smell like cinnamon at some point in December, are you even doing it right? I don’t mean the scented candle version either. I mean the real deal — apples breaking down slowly, clove lingering in the air, maybe a little vanilla curling around the edges. This is where slow cooker magic hits its peak: low heat, long time, no fuss — and the result tastes like Christmas in a jar.

I started making apple butter to give away. Neighbors, teachers, distant cousins I forgot to shop for — they all got a mason jar wrapped in twine. But I always kept one back. Because once you smear it on toast, stir it into oatmeal, or tuck it under a slice of cheddar on a cracker? Forget gifting. You’ll want it for yourself.
The Apples
I use a mix — usually Fuji, Gala, and a tart one like Granny Smith. Around 4 pounds, peeled, cored, and chopped roughly. Doesn’t need to be neat — they’re going to collapse anyway.
Toss them in the slow cooker with:
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 1 tablespoon cinnamon
- ½ teaspoon nutmeg
- ¼ teaspoon clove
- A pinch of salt
- Optional: vanilla extract (add at the end) or lemon juice (to brighten)
Set to low for 8–10 hours, stirring occasionally if you’re around. They’ll turn dark, glossy, and soft enough to smash with a spoon.
Then — and here’s the key — you blend. I use an immersion blender right in the pot. You can also transfer to a blender in batches, but let it cool first unless you want a steamy apple explosion.
Once smooth, leave it uncovered on high for another hour or two, stirring every 20–30 minutes. This thickens it into that deep, spreadable, almost caramel-like texture that defines real apple butter.
Storage and Use
- Keeps in the fridge for 2–3 weeks
- Freezes beautifully in small containers or freezer jars
- Can be water-bath canned if you’re into that — just follow safe preserving guidelines
Use it on:
- Toast, biscuits, pancakes
- Yogurt bowls and granola
- Swirled into frosting or cake batter
- Over pork chops or chicken
- Or just by the spoonful when no one’s watching
This is slow cooking in its purest form. No timers. No browning. Just a pile of apples and patience, and by the end, something that tastes way fancier than what went in. It’s quiet, it’s nostalgic, and it smells better than any holiday candle money can buy.
Recipe 6: Slow Cooker Ham with Mustard-Brown Sugar Glaze
I used to think ham was foolproof. Slice, warm, serve — what could go wrong? Turns out: a lot. Dry, rubbery slices. Weird, watery glaze. That cloying sweetness that coats your mouth and sticks around long after dessert. It doesn’t have to be that way.

This version isn’t a giant spiral-cut centerpiece — it’s a more manageable boneless ham, about 3 to 4 pounds. Big enough for a table, small enough to fit in the slow cooker. The glaze is sharp, sweet, and sticky without being syrupy. And the texture? Soft, not soggy. Sliced thick, not falling apart.
Choosing the Right Ham
Go with a fully cooked boneless ham, unsliced or only lightly scored. Avoid anything labeled “water added” — it’ll release too much liquid and throw off the balance. If it comes in netting, remove it before cooking.
I like to score the top lightly in a diamond pattern — just enough to let the glaze sink in. No deep cuts. You’re not carving a roast.
The Glaze
This one’s punchy. I whisk together:
- ½ cup brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
- 1 tablespoon whole grain mustard (optional, for texture)
- 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- A splash of orange juice or pineapple juice if I want it fruitier
- A few cracks of black pepper
Spread half the glaze over the ham before it goes in the pot, saving the rest for later. Set to low for 3–4 hours — just to warm through. No need to overcook a precooked ham.
During the last 30 minutes, I baste it with the remaining glaze and crack the lid open slightly so it can reduce a bit. If I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll lift it out at the end and broil it for 5 minutes to crisp the top — but that’s a bonus, not a requirement.
Serving It Right
Let it rest 10 minutes before slicing. I cut it into thick, tender slabs and pour a little of the glaze from the pot over the top. It’s sweet, tangy, and rich — the kind of thing that holds its own next to mashed potatoes and doesn’t feel like a leftover.
Leftovers, by the way? Amazing in sandwiches. Even better chopped into morning hash with potatoes and eggs.
This isn’t “just ham.” It’s the kind of quiet holiday win that doesn’t announce itself — but ends up being the first thing gone. And the slow cooker lets you nail it without sacrificing half your oven schedule or ending up with slices that taste like they’ve been hanging out in hot punch.
Recipe 7: Creamy Potato Gratin with Garlic and Thyme
I used to think gratin had to come from the oven. Golden crust, bubbling edges, burn-your-tongue corner piece — the works. But I also remember every Christmas where I tried to wedge a pan of potatoes into the oven next to the ham, the rolls, the stuffing, and a tray of cookies someone decided to bake last-minute.

One year, I gave up and tried them in the slow cooker. And you know what? They weren’t oven-style gratin. But they were still creamy, garlicky, layered like a dream — and ready right when I needed them.
The Potato Rules
Use Yukon Golds or russets, and slice them thin. Like ⅛ inch thin. Mandoline if you’ve got one, sharp knife and patience if you don’t. Don’t rinse them — the starch helps bind things.
I use about 3 pounds, peeled and sliced, layered directly into the slow cooker with:
- A few pinches of kosher salt between layers
- Grated parmesan or gruyère tucked in between every couple of layers
- And a slow-pour cream mix made from:
- 1½ cups heavy cream
- 1 cup milk
- 2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
- A few sprigs’ worth of fresh thyme leaves
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Optional: a pinch of nutmeg for depth
Pour the mix over the top until the potatoes are just barely covered. Cover and cook on low for 5–6 hours, or high for 2½–3, until the potatoes are fully tender and the cream is thick and rich — not watery.
The Browning Hack
If you miss that oven crust (and honestly, I do), you can transfer the whole insert to the broiler if it’s oven-safe. Just 3–5 minutes to brown the top, and it’ll feel like you cheated the laws of kitchen logistics.
No broiler? Sprinkle with extra cheese or breadcrumbs at the end and torch it if you’ve got one of those little culinary torches lying around. Or just lean into the softness — these hold beautifully warm and reheat like a dream.
Serving Thoughts
I like to add chopped fresh chives on top or a little extra cracked black pepper before serving. They’re rich — you don’t need a giant scoop. But they’re also the kind of dish people quietly go back for thirds of. Something about garlic, cream, and potatoes in December feels like an invitation to linger.
Gratin doesn’t need to be dramatic to be memorable. This version doesn’t demand your oven or your stress — just your trust in the slow cooker to do what it does best: hold the flavor, take the heat, and quietly deliver something worth remembering.
Recipe 8: Hot Honey Brussels Sprouts
Let’s just say it: not everyone gets excited about Brussels sprouts. They’re a gamble at holiday meals. Half the table loves them roasted and crispy, the other half acts like you just served boiled socks. But when you glaze them in hot honey, cook them low and slow with a little vinegar and spice, something happens. They don’t crisp, no. But they do turn tender, bold, and slightly addictive — the kind of thing people take “just to try” and then go back for twice.

The Prep
Use fresh Brussels sprouts, not frozen — the frozen ones get waterlogged and sad. Trim the ends, peel off any bruised leaves, and halve them lengthwise so they cook evenly and soak up all the flavor.
You’ll want about 1½ to 2 pounds, depending on your crowd.
The Glaze
In a bowl, whisk together:
- ¼ cup honey
- 1½ tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (more if you like heat)
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- A pinch of salt and black pepper
Optional extras: a clove of garlic, minced fine, or a splash of hot sauce if you’re leaning bolder.
Toss the halved sprouts in the glaze until well coated, then pour everything into the slow cooker. Set to low for 3 hours, stirring once or twice. They should be fork-tender and glossy, with just a little bite left in the center.
If you want to concentrate the flavor more, remove the lid for the last 30 minutes — it’ll let the liquid reduce and coat the sprouts more thickly.
Make It Sing
Just before serving, I like to add:
- A drizzle more hot honey
- A sprinkle of chopped toasted pecans
- Maybe a few pomegranate seeds if I want color and contrast
They’re great alongside roast meats, rich casseroles, or anything creamy. The heat cuts through, the honey keeps it balanced, and suddenly the sprouts are one of the most talked-about dishes at the table.
They won’t be crispy — don’t expect that. But they will be flavorful, complex, and unlike any sprouts most people have had. And if you happen to have leftovers, chop them into tomorrow’s hash with eggs and potatoes and watch what happens.
Recipe 9: Gingerbread-Spiced Slow Cooker Oatmeal
There’s something sacred about Christmas morning. Not in a grand way — in a quiet one. Slippers on, coffee brewing, maybe a fire going if you’re lucky. And before the chaos of gifts, travel, brunch casseroles, or whatever else the day holds, there’s this brief window where something simple and hot can anchor everything.

That’s where this oatmeal comes in.
It’s not flashy. No cinnamon rolls shaped like wreaths or pancake towers shaped like snowmen. Just a pot of warm, spiced oats that smell like cookies but eat like breakfast. It’s gingerbread in bowl form — and the slow cooker does all the work while you sleep.
The Base
Use steel-cut oats — not rolled, not instant. Rolled oats will turn to mush after hours in the pot. Steel-cut hold their shape and texture, giving you a creamy base with a little bite.
I use:
- 1 cup steel-cut oats
- 4 cups liquid (usually 2 cups water, 2 cups milk — dairy or non-dairy both work)
- ¼ cup molasses
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- 1½ teaspoons ground ginger
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- ¼ teaspoon nutmeg
- Pinch of salt
- Optional: a splash of vanilla extract or maple syrup at the end
Stir everything together in the slow cooker and set to low for 6–8 hours. If your cooker runs hot, aim for the lower end or add an extra splash of milk in the morning.
The Overnight Method
If you’re nervous about waking up to scorched edges, here’s the trick: butter the insert or use a slow cooker liner. And if your cooker has a timer or warming function, even better — let it switch to warm after 6 hours and hold steady until you’re ready.
In the morning, stir well — the top might look a little thick, but once you mix it up, it all comes together.
Serving Ideas
This is where you can go sweet or savory:
- Top with toasted nuts, chopped apples, or dried cranberries
- Add a swirl of yogurt or a dollop of peanut butter
- Drizzle with a little honey or maple syrup
- Serve in mugs for easy grab-and-go if your morning’s in motion
It’s not just breakfast — it’s breathing room. A warm bowl in a quiet kitchen before the day unfolds. And if you’re feeding a house full of guests, this takes one more thing off your plate while giving everyone a gentler start.
Recipe 10: Chocolate-Peanut Butter Lava Cake
You want a showstopper? This is it. No blowtorches, no soufflé drama, no worrying about whether something will “set.” Just a warm, gooey, chocolatey mess of a dessert with pockets of peanut butter and enough wow-factor to make people hover near the slow cooker with their spoons.

And yes, it’s absurdly easy. Dump, stir, top, and walk away. It turns out perfectly if you leave it alone and let it do its thing — which is basically the motto of every good slow cooker recipe.
The Setup
I start by greasing the insert or using a parchment sling. This isn’t the time to test your non-stick coating.
Then I mix:
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- ½ cup granulated sugar
- ¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- ¼ teaspoon salt
In a separate bowl:
- ½ cup milk
- 2 tablespoons melted butter or oil
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Stir the wet into the dry just until combined. Then fold in:
- ½ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
- And ½ cup peanut butter chips or small dollops of smooth peanut butter
Pour the batter into the slow cooker and smooth the top.
Now here’s the lava part:
In a heatproof measuring cup or bowl, mix:
- ¾ cup brown sugar
- ¼ cup cocoa powder
- And 1½ cups hot water
Pour that directly over the batter — don’t stir. It’ll look weird, but that’s how you get that self-saucing effect.
Cover and cook on high for 2–2½ hours — until the top is set and puffed, but a spoon still reveals molten goo underneath.
Serving Notes
Spoon it out warm into bowls or mugs. Top with:
- Vanilla ice cream
- A drizzle of heavy cream or warm milk
- Or nothing at all — it holds its own
It doesn’t slice like a cake. It scoops like a cobbler. And no one will care. The edges are cakey, the middle is molten, and the peanut butter streaks through like a surprise you planned on purpose.
You can scale this up or down, but keep the depth in mind — it cooks best when it’s about 2 inches deep in the cooker. Too shallow and it dries out. Too deep and it takes forever.
It’s the kind of dessert that makes people say, “Wait, you made that?” and you can just nod while your slow cooker hums along smugly in the background.
Big Batch Logistics and Warming Tips
One pot is easy. Two, doable. Three or more slow cookers going at once during a holiday meal? Now you’re event planning. This is where most people get tripped up — not cooking, but holding. And if you’ve ever tried to keep mashed potatoes edible for three hours or had guests arrive an hour late, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
The “Keep Warm” Trap
Most slow cookers have a “keep warm” setting, which sounds perfect — but it’s not always as gentle as it sounds. If your cooker runs hot, that setting can still hit 160°F or more. That means delicate dishes — like creamy gratins or already-finished hams — can keep cooking, drying out or splitting if they sit too long.
My rule: If it’s been on “keep warm” longer than an hour, give it a stir. Add a splash of broth or cream if it’s thickened. And for things like dips or sauces, sometimes switching it off and just covering tightly with a towel is enough to hold it safely for another 30 minutes without ruining the texture.
When to Cook Ahead
Here’s the secret most people don’t talk about: almost everything on this list can be made a day ahead.
- Stuffing, meatballs, carrots, ham — all reheat beautifully.
- Apple butter and oatmeal are even better on day two.
- For baked goods like lava cake, it’s best fresh — but even then, you can measure everything and stage it so all you have to do is mix and pour.
When I know I’ll be using multiple slow cookers, I stagger cook times — one runs the night before, one goes in early morning, and one finishes just before dinner.
Reheating in the Slow Cooker
Yes, you can do it. But don’t start cold. Room temp the dish first if possible. Add a little liquid to help it warm evenly. Stir once halfway through. For things like sauces or dips, reheat on low and switch to warm the minute it’s hot enough to serve.
Transport and Sharing
Taking a slow cooker on the road? Wrap the insert in a towel, set it in a box or laundry basket, and don’t forget the lid clamp or a big rubber band. You can plug it in at the destination and reheat or just keep warm, depending on the timing.
And if you’ve got guests bringing their own slow-cooked dish? Claim an outlet early. Have a power strip. Know where the cords are going. It’s a tiny detail, but it’ll save your kitchen from becoming a tangle of plugged-in chaos.
FAQ – Slow Cooker Christmas Recipes
The moment people see more than one slow cooker on the counter, the questions start flying. Can I make this vegetarian? Will it overcook? Can I bring mine to the potluck without spilling gravy in my backseat?
So let’s get into the things people actually want to know — not just the “can I substitute” stuff, but the kitchen-stress questions that come up when the guest list is long and the oven space is limited.
Can I make these vegetarian?
Absolutely. Most of the sides — like stuffing, carrots, Brussels sprouts, and gratin — are either already vegetarian or easy to adapt with veggie broth and a few swaps. For meatballs or ham, you’ll want a separate main, but the slow cooker’s great for a lentil stew or chickpea tagine if you want a hearty option.
What size slow cooker do I need?
Most of these recipes are written for a 5- to 7-quart cooker — the standard size. If yours is smaller, halve the recipe or cut the cook time a bit (shallower contents heat faster). If yours is bigger, don’t underfill it too much — the surface-to-liquid ratio matters.
Can I prep these dishes the day before?
Yes — and you should. Chop vegetables, mix glazes, even pre-assemble stuffing or layer your gratin. Keep it in the fridge overnight and start it fresh in the morning. The only things I wouldn’t leave overnight in the cooker insert are egg-heavy bakes or things that absorb too much liquid (like raw oats or stuffing with broth added).
How long can food sit on “keep warm”?
Generally 2–3 hours safely, though some dishes (like meatballs, ham, or dips) hold even longer. Stir occasionally and add a splash of liquid if anything starts to look too thick. For anything dairy-heavy, aim for under 2 hours.
What if my slow cooker runs hot?
Add a layer of foil under the lid to buffer the heat. Or just cut the time down and stir more often. You’ll learn fast if yours leans aggressive — things will finish quicker and may dry out sooner. Adjust by checking early the first time you try a recipe.
Can I cook two dishes at once?
Not in the same pot — flavors will blend and cook times may not match. But you can run two cookers at once (just test your outlets first). If space is tight, you can also cook one, then clean the insert and start another right after — some dishes reheat better than you’d think.
Can I transport these for a potluck?
Yes. Keep the insert in the cooker, lid on tight, and wrap the whole thing in a towel. Place in a laundry basket or sturdy tote and plug in as soon as you arrive. Bring your own ladle, extension cord, and label — it helps.
Do I need a programmable model?
Helpful but not required. Manual cookers are fine if you’re around to turn them off. Programmables are great for overnight oatmeal or long party days when you need it to switch to warm automatically. If yours has a hot “keep warm” mode, test it ahead — some stay too warm for delicate dishes.
Bottom line? You don’t need to overhaul your kitchen to make these recipes work. You just need to know what your slow cooker can do — and what it shouldn’t be trusted with — and everything else falls into place. It’s about smart prep, good ingredients, and making room for food that doesn’t ask for constant attention.
Closing Thoughts
If there’s a theme running through all of this, it’s not just “cook it in a slow cooker.” It’s: make room. Make room in your oven. Make room in your schedule. Make room at your table for dishes that don’t demand performance — just time, a little planning, and a lot of heart.
Slow cooker Christmas recipes aren’t about taking shortcuts. They’re about keeping you out of the weeds when the living room’s full and the oven’s maxed out. They’re about making food that holds, waits, shares. Food that lets you look up from the stove and actually be part of the day.
Because the best holiday food doesn’t come from stress. It comes from that calm middle hour between when the meal’s cooking and when everyone sits down — when the kitchen smells right, the playlist is going, and you’ve got a spoon in one hand and a mug of cider in the other.
That’s where this kind of cooking lives. And it’s why I’ll keep making these dishes — year after year — even if no one else knows how simple they really are.
— Adrienne