More Than Just Food — The Spirit of African American Cuisine

Welcome to Our Table

When you think about food, what comes to mind first? Maybe it’s the golden crust of cornbread fresh from the oven, that first crackle of chicken dropping into hot oil, or the earthy perfume of collard greens simmering on the stove all afternoon.

For us, food is more than just a meal — it’s memory, resistance, survival, and love all piled high on one plate. Here on the Melanated Lilies blog, we celebrate African American culinary traditions as living, breathing stories. Each dish is a love letter to our ancestors and a testament to our resilience and creativity.

This is the first course in our 10-part series, From Roots to Renaissance — A Journey Through African American Cuisine. Pull up a chair, pour yourself some sweet tea, and let’s share a story that began long before the first bite.

Food as History, Memory, and Identity

African American cuisine is an unbroken line connecting us to ancestors who planted rice paddies along the Gullah coast, who simmered pots over open fires in the Deep South, who cooked meals in tiny Harlem apartments after leaving the South behind.

Each recipe is a living archive. Every spoonful of gumbo or forkful of macaroni and cheese tells a story — about survival on plantations, about making homes in bustling city blocks, about holding on to joy through unimaginable hardship.

Enslaved Africans were robbed of language, homeland, and families. Yet, through food, they nurtured connection to their roots. Cooking became a hidden language of comfort, a sacred ritual, and a thread of cultural survival.

When you taste peppery collard greens or smoky black-eyed peas, you're tasting a story of endurance, a whisper of a grandmother humming hymns while she stirs her pot. It’s history you can hold in your hands — and taste on your tongue.

A Sacred Act of Survival

During the horrors of the Middle Passage, enslaved Africans brought not only their physical bodies but seeds, techniques, and spiritual relationships to the land. Once forced into American plantations, they were given scraps — the "undesirable" cuts of meat, bruised vegetables, leftover grains.

But these scraps became treasures. Chitlins (pig intestines) turned into a celebratory dish. Collard greens, boiled down with smoked turkey or pork, became silky and flavorful. Hog maws, oxtails, and pigs feet — all transformed into deeply seasoned stews.

These weren’t just meals; they were lessons in resilience and creativity. "Making something out of nothing" isn’t just a phrase — it’s a philosophy deeply rooted in Black culinary traditions.

Through food, enslaved people reclaimed some power. They took control over how to nourish themselves and their communities. Even in the most brutal conditions, food was a small, defiant act of care and humanity.

Soul Food: More Than Just a Trend

"Soul food" isn’t a marketing term; it is the story of Black survival and celebration written in flavors. The term rose to prominence in the 1960s alongside the Black Power movement, as a way to claim and celebrate cultural identity.

But soul food’s origins stretch back centuries — into fields and cabins where enslaved people had to make do with little. Dishes like fried chicken, catfish, smothered pork chops, candied yams, and sweet potato pie grew out of necessity and blossomed into beloved family staples.

What many overlook is the skill it took to create these dishes. Cooking collards until tender yet vibrant, seasoning fish just right, frying chicken to a perfect crunch — this is culinary artistry passed down through generations.

Soul food is a celebration of turning hardship into flavor, scarcity into abundance, and oppression into cultural power. It is both a survival tool and a joyous feast, a love letter to our ancestors on every plate.

Food as Revolution

Food has always played a role in activism and resistance in Black communities.

During the Civil Rights Movement, local kitchens — often led by women — became headquarters of the movement. Dinners and fish fry’s raised money to bail out protesters and support bus boycotts. Georgia Gilmore’s "Club from Nowhere" in Montgomery is just one legendary example.

Food gave strength to marchers and created safe spaces for strategizing and healing. Sharing a plate wasn’t just about nourishment; it was about solidarity, resistance, and collective care.

Today, this revolutionary spirit continues. Black farmers and food justice activists reclaim land, promote food sovereignty, and create community gardens in food deserts. Pop-ups and supper clubs push back against culinary erasure and showcase Black creativity and entrepreneurship.

A plate of fish or a pot of greens can be as powerful as a protest sign — a way to say, "We’re here. We will not be erased."

Spirituality and Ancestral Connection

Food isn’t just practical in Black traditions; it’s deeply spiritual.

Pouring out libations before meals to honor ancestors, cooking certain dishes on specific holidays (like black-eyed peas and greens on New Year’s for luck and prosperity), and trusting "intuition" instead of recipes — these are forms of cultural spirituality.

Many cooks talk about "feeling" ancestors guide them while seasoning a pot or kneading dough. This intuitive cooking is a form of ancestral conversation, a spiritual thread tying the living to those who came before.

Recipes are more than lists of ingredients; they are love letters from the past, full of wisdom and blessings. Each simmer, each stir is an act of reverence and connection.

The Power of the Communal Table

Across African American communities, gathering around the table is sacred.

Fish fries, crab boils, barbecue block parties — these are not just events, they’re ceremonies of laughter, healing, and community. The African American table is always open. It’s a space where everyone belongs, no one goes hungry, and stories flow as freely as sweet tea.

Sharing food is a way to create belonging and safety. It is the ultimate demonstration of radical hospitality. Even when resources were scarce, Black families would stretch meals to feed an unexpected guest.

At these tables, relationships are built, wounds are mended, and generations come together. Every gathering becomes an archive of love, humor, and shared history — a living testament to resilience and abundance.

A Modern Renaissance

We are living through a renaissance of Black food culture.

Black chefs and food creatives across the country are reclaiming old recipes, rediscovering lost ingredients, and innovating new expressions. Chefs like Mashama Bailey (The Grey), Bryant Terry (vegan soul pioneer), and Michael Twitty (historian and chef) are leading a movement to tell the full story behind the food.

Vegan and vegetarian soul food movements are bringing new life to traditional dishes, while urban farms are reconnecting Black communities with the land. Food festivals and pop-ups celebrate ancestral ingredients like benne seeds, okra, and sorghum.

This renaissance is about more than food trends — it’s about cultural power, historical truth, and creative freedom. It honors the past while boldly imagining a future where Black foodways are celebrated on their own terms.

These stories are more than just recipes — they’re living pieces of our heritage.

When we share and preserve these dishes, we aren’t simply passing down instructions; we’re protecting our cultural DNA. Each recipe carries the voices of our ancestors, whispering through every pinch of seasoning and every slow stir of the pot.

Food is a powerful vessel for memory, love, and resistance. It’s our way of saying, "We were here. We are here. And we will always be here."

By telling these stories, we honor the past, celebrate our resilience, and inspire future generations to keep the flame alive — to keep cooking, gathering, and remembering who we are.

Join Us at the Table

This is just the first course in our journey. Over the next nine posts, we’ll explore West African roots, survival cooking during enslavement, the magic of Sunday dinners, the hustle and flavor of the Great Migration, and so much more.

We hope you’ll cook along with us, share your stories, and celebrate the richness of this culinary heritage.

✗⚬ﾒ𝟶,

Till Next Time,