James Beard Award-nominated writer and producer Nicole A. Taylor felt called to write a Juneteenth cookbook long before the occasion was first recognized as a national holiday last year. For Taylor, Juneteenth has been a time to both reflect and celebrate for more than a decade.

Then, in summer 2020, the dynamic of the holiday changed, and Taylor knew the time was right. Following the murder of George Floyd in May of that year, people across the U.S. started acknowledging long-ignored African American histories and realities, and awareness of Juneteenth—of freedom delayed—spread outside of the Black community.

Formerly enslaved people celebrated the first Juneteenth on June 19, 1866 in Galveston, Texas. On this day, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation was signed, supposedly ending slavery, federal troops arrived in Galveston to ensure that all enslaved people were indeed free. Ever since that first celebration, Juneteenth has migrated, grown, and transformed in the same ways that Black Americans have been forced to in order to survive and thrive in the U.S. For some, the festivities include strawberry soda and backyard barbecues. For others, it has long been an opportunity to gather at block parties and celebrate Black-owned businesses.

In her new Juneteenth cookbook, Watermelon and Red Birds, published today, Taylor makes note of the way Juneteenth traditions differ in cities like Oakland and Atlanta. “As Americans started to migrate and started to move out of the American South, Texas in particular, we know they went up to Chicago, they went out West, they went to L.A., they went to Milwaukee, Seattle, and Oakland. That’s when you started seeing these public Juneteenth events across the country,” said Taylor.

Taylor appreciates the common thread uniting Black Americans as they celebrate the same holiday 2,500 miles apart: the importance of prioritizing community and joy in the face of a system that often creates a sense of hopelessness. “Rituals of leisure and care are as much a testament to what Juneteenth has made possible as voting rights and desegregated buses are,” Taylor writes.

The book, however, is not simply a record of Juneteenth traditions and food. Taylor makes a point very early on to distinguish her cookbook as a guide for the modern Juneteenth, one that fuses the nostalgic and the contemporary. “This book is not an attempt to capture the tastes and recipes of that 1866 Juneteenth celebration,” Taylor states in the book’s introduction. “This is a testament to where we are now. It’s an attempt to fashion a Juneteenth celebration for the 21st Century.”

The title of the book honors a native African fruit that has become an American summer classic and pays homage to a Black and Indigenous proverb associating red birds with ancestral guidance. Divided into multiple parts, the book includes an introduction, a list of gadgets and pantry essentials paired with a collection of BIPOC-owned brands, and recipes for everything from spice blends to cocktails and festival fare to sweets. A last section called “Everyday Juneteenth,” features less-involved dishes and drinks that honor Black American culinary history.

From the section headers to the recipe notes, Taylor’s cookbook features as much cultural education as food-preparation instructions. The section introducing festival-themed recipes, for example, provides background on why outdoor spaces and fairs traditionally became places of solace for African Americans celebrating in a segregated U.S. The recipe for beef ribs details the exclusion of Black pitmasters from barbecue cookbook publishing, despite their fundamental role in defining American barbecue.

For African Americans, Taylor’s writing and recipes read as both a nostalgic hug and a switch-up. For non-Black readers, the cookbook reads as an introduction to Black food and celebration culture. Civil Eats spoke with Taylor about what inspired her book and the trepidation surrounding the supposed “gentrification” of the new, official Juneteenth as awareness of the holiday continues to spread outside of the Black community.

Were there other cookbooks that served as an inspiration to you as you wrote Watermelon and Redbirds?

One-hundred percent—so many cookbooks. I first wanted to dig into barbecue books. Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, has a barbecue book that came out in the ’80s. I don’t know if many people know that.

I took a look at other barbecue books including ones from Adrian Miller and Rodney Scott. Any of the canon of Black cookbooks that people know and love definitely inspired this—from Jessica Harris to Edna Lewis, Bryant Terry to Shannon Mustipher. These are all friends and colleagues and people who left a mark on Black cookbooks.

The book strikes an impressive balance between honoring tradition while also challenging it. What motivated your choice to create this fusion of nostalgia and contemporary for Juneteenth celebrations? And what was it like to navigate that over the course of your research?

The word celebration doesn’t mean “every day,” so I wanted to make sure that readers have this canon of celebration food that the African American community will always have at the table. But I also understand that we live in all different parts of the country. I wanted to take the word celebration and figure out, “What does that mean, to people? What does it mean to me? And what are Black celebrations? What would typically be on the table at some Black celebrations?”