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Lindsey Williams
Avery/Penguin Group, February 2006

You gotta love a cookbook that begins with a one-liner statement by the author that he's an addict.

Frankly, being raised in a part of the world where cooking is flavorful if nothing else, I can't imagine anyone who claims to enjoy food not being at least a tad addicted to what is commonly called 'soul food.' Lest you think you've remained untouched by this culinary phenomenon, bear in mind that it's not just the cuisine of black America. As Lindsey Williams, author of Neo Soul, explains, "You can call it soul food, comfort food, or Southern cooking..." and the key ingredient is the flavor.

Now, growing up in Texas, I never fully realized until I was a traveling adult just how good food is down here. I won't waste time pondering the why's, I'll just say that I do feel for folks who've not had a chance to try meats and vegetables that are so carefully inundated with herbs, spices, and other flavorings that different dishes can literally conjure up unique emotional reactions. Hence, the connection of the concepts of 'soul' and 'love' with soul food.

While this kind of good eating was just the way we had supper in my house, for Lindsey Williams and family, it was the heart of their family. Lindsey's grandmother is Sylvia Woods, also known as "the Queen of Soul Food" in parts as far north as Harlem, where her restaurant, Sylvia's, has became famous in its 40-plus years. So, the author grew up in the North surrounded by the aromas and flavors of the South. A self-proclaimed "fat kid" and food addict, Williams' first book is more than just a collection of recipes -- it's a brief memoir of his struggle with obesity, his love of food, and how he managed to find a way to create cooking that's both tasty and healthy.

Oh, and he managed to lose 200 of his 400 pounds along the way.

Williams, who describes in his book how he earned and then whittled away a fortune in the hip hop music industry at its start, completely reinvented himself and his lifestyle. His book and growing catering company by the same name are his way of what some of us call "right livelihood" -- as his famous grandma says in the foreword, "When you've struggled as much as Lindsey, it's important to share your experiences and your discoveries with the whole world."

It's hard enough for a white Texas girl like me to envision healthy food being something other than rabbit food and tofu. It's got to be even tougher growing up black, and especially in southern states, where the whole idea of soul food is heavily enriched with emotion-packed heritage, and try to relate the flavors of your creative ancestors to salads and soybeans. But that's just what makes this book good -- it's got recipes for dishes that Williams hopes even the hardest-core soul food addict will love.

Here, I have a confession: I'm no chef. In fact, my oven doesn't even work well at present. I don't even like to cook -- but I do like to eat. So does my family. So, with Lindsey Williams' book in hand, I attempted a handful of his recipes -- with mixed results. In all fairness, I simply can't render a verdict on some of my attempts, thanks to that damned oven. Also, I fudged on the prep time involved in some cases (I still haven't quite gotten the whole "working supermom" thing down to a fine art.) Not that all of Lindsey's recipes take a long time -- in fact, I was really surprised at just how simple so much of the requirements seemed. That simplicity, combined with my need to constantly multi-task, made me think that I could rush through the occasional step or two. Found out that doesn't work when it comes to producing desired end results as far as texture goes. Damned oven...

But flavor...

O.M.G.

This stuff tasted good! You know, with a husband from the Northeast (where apparently the motto is "the blander, the better" when it comes to food) and a kid with typically delicate tastebuds, I've come to the point of hardly ever seasoning anything I make. I sure don't use anything like peppers or onions! But even my household Bland Brothers agreed that Lindsey's recipes -- even those that didn't come out of that damned oven looking good -- tasted divine.

Nothing exotic. No special culinary equipment (except a working oven) needed. Don't even have to travel to a fancy grocer downtown. Incredible tasting food.

And by the way, after letting Lindsey's book convince me to bake my first apple pie from scratch, I'm sure I'll never serve another store-bought one.

Williams hopes to lead the pack of present-day foodie gurus toward flavorful expressions that are totally possible to create and be loved by regular people -- and that won't lead us down the path to destruction. That's what we need -- not to learn how to love foods that we can't pronounce, can't find in our local grocery store, and need to invest our savings in order to get the right preparation tools. Lindsey Williams is teaching what he learned -- how to take something he loved but that wasn't good for him and transform it into a healthful experience, delicious in its own right.