I friggin LOVE dessert during celebrations. Thanksgiving? Gimmie all the sweet potato and pecan pie! Christmas? My gawd I can't stop eating sugar cookies. Right around Easter is when I have to have a carrot cake. I
Full admission here: I can be super wasteful. I love to grocery shop and visit different farmers markets and so often my eyes are bigger than what I have space for in my fridge or what I can actually cook before it spoils.
If you don't know where "you gon' eat your cornbread?!" is from, this almost certainly isn't the blog for you! Cornbread is the manna of the gods. On its own, corn meal can be used to bread catfish, make hushpuppies, and of course, some amazing cornbread.
Pound cake is just another one of those things that black people have a strong culinary tie to. It has had an honored place at lively spades parties, Fish Fry Fridays, reunions, funerals, church gatherings and almost any other event in which large amounts of black people are gathered.
I have such strong memories tied to fried chicken. I can vividly remember the matriarchs of my family gathered in my great-grandmother's (Grand Mama) small yellow kitchen in Compton laughing, talking shit, and cooking.
So often I find that cooking a good meal can feel a bit like reinventing the wheel. That's not to say that there aren't amazing, completely original dishes out there that I just haven't thought of yet, but often my favorite "original" recipes are heavily inspired by other cultures, chefs, and dishes.
Growing up, the only biscuits my family ever had came out of the Pillsbury can. I would be lying if I told you that there isn't a can of them in my fridge right now. They are perfectly buttery, quick, and delicious biscuits that I'll probably never really rid myself of.
I've written, deleted, and rewritten this post about six times. I want to get it right. And while I'm not sure this is it, I've committed myself to getting it out, as imperfect as it may be. As I've said earlier there is something about the beginning of things that makes you want to commit to being your best self, and I, above all things, am committed to Brown Sugar and Bourbon.
Man oh man, I didn’t see this season of my life coming when I left my cushy (read: emotionally unhealthy) job in D.C. to go to grad school. I naively believed that life would kind of just smooth out and settle as I got older (plot twist: Nahh B).
Not going to lie, this isn't where I thought I'd be at 30. Slinging latte's and running food orders was not what I saw in my career horizons when I was a grad student at USC. But here I am, earning minimum wage on the brink of either a full on mental breakdown or (and?) financial ruin.
Admittedly it is featured on a food blog so there should reasonably be a food story in here somewhere but there isn’t. Part of launching Brown Sugar and Bourbon wasn’t simply to explore food and its ability to both build and bridge communities, but also to pull back the curtain on vulnerability; As a way, I suppose to become more comfortable with exploring my own.
When I saw blood oranges and jalapeños I really had the best intentions of doing la play on a fresh salsa or gremolata. I was so excited to start experimenting when I got home but, the blood oranges never made it into any of these crazy dishes I had planned. A big ass bottle of mezcal got in my way.
It's the most wonderful time of the year. The temperatures have dropped, holiday decorations are up, and sadly, you're probably sober. Fret not my dear, as your resident Fairy Booze-Mother I am here to give you my recipe for Spiked Eggnog.
The first time I ever had a lychee martini it was out at Nobu up in Malibu (insert Drake voice). The atmosphere in the restaurant was hip and thankfully I was dining with my parents because I couldn't afford a gaddam thing.