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“I want to dispel the myths of what America thinks Black cooking is and is not,” she writes in the opening pages. “Through my stories, recipes, and experiences, I challenge the belief that Black cuisine is monochromatic.” 

Named one of “16 Black Chefs Changing Food in America” by the New York Times, Shanti has been hard at work building her legacy as a Black, queer woman in the culinary world. In 2020, she earned a James Beard nomination for Rising Star Chef of the Year, recognizing her “Affrilachian” cooking at Benne on Eagle in Asheville, North Carolina. After that, she dazzled American television viewers on season 19 of Bravo’s Top Chef. Earlier this year, she opened a fish-fry restaurant, Good Hot Fish, in Asheville’s historically Black business district, earning accolades from Eater as one of the best new restaurants in America.

Now, the Virginia native blesses us with a cookbook that doubles as a memoir, honoring the Southern matriarchs in her family while celebrating the culinary diversity of the Black diaspora. Featuring 125 recipes and vibrant photography by Johnny Autry, Our South takes readers on a journey through five southern micro-regions—each revealing its own “courses and customs”—and people who shaped Shanti into the chef she is today. 

Between stops on her book tour, Shanti took a moment to speak with Civil Eats about Black food, queer voices in cooking, and what it’s like to be a restaurant owner in post-hurricane, post-election Asheville.

When and why did you decide to write this cookbook?

In 2020, a literary agent named Rica Allannic approached me about writing a cookbook. At the time, I was incredibly burdened by my chef position [at Benne on Eagle]. It was a very high-pressure job, with the restaurant open seven days a week for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Like a lot of people during 2020, I had a moment of reflection where I asked myself what I was doing and what legacy I was leaving. I had never opened my own restaurant, never even done a popup or anything like that. What I needed at that time, or what I wanted most, was to feel like I had a voice.

It was important for me to document these recipes, not just for me personally. I feel like there are so many foodways and traditions within Southern cooking that are kind of dying. A lot of the recipes in my family weren’t even written down. If I wanted to know how to make something, I had to call my auntie, or my mom had to track down little handwritten pieces of paper. 

In the introduction, you write that you “want to dispel the myths of what America thinks Black cooking is and is not.” What are some myths of this type you see perpetuated in the culinary world and beyond?