100 books like Soul Food Sunday

You can’t read this book and not smile! This fun, rhythmic read by the lyrical Tameka Fryer Brown celebrates the bonds of a diverse urban community on Neighbors’ Day, and reminds us of the big and small ways neighbors show up for each other. Charlotte Riley-Webb‘s paintings swirl with energy to give a new dimension to Brown’s words.   

Written by a father and son duo, Family Reunion starts with a boy’s reluctance to join a family reunion and ends with him having a change of heart after bonding with a cross-generational group of relatives. Personally, the mini-scenarios throughout the book were so relatable, it made me wonder if the Richardsons were at one of my family reunions! Ashleigh Corrin’s bright cheerful illustrations seal the deal.

I don’t know if this book necessarily takes place in summer, but it’s centered around one of my favorite ‘African-American Joy Rituals’ - the Electric Slide! Kai agonizes over his failure to get a dance nickname from his very cool grandfather because of his two left feet. When his aunt gets married, he’s determined to conquer the Electric Slide at her reception.

Who doesn’t love a good, all-inclusive line dance? I still remember learning the Electric Slide when I was 6– to this day if I’m at a party and it’s playing, you’ll know where to find me (the dance floor!). Fun book.

Learning to ride a bike is no easy feat, so it helps when your encouraging dad is along for the inaugural ride.

This warm story of father-daughter bonding celebrates a bike-riding milestone and the feeling of freedom that comes from an afternoon spent outside on wheels. The story is lyrical and upbeat, with a whiff of nostalgia.

Angela Shanté and Seth Rogers have constructed a beautiful story around the infamous pastime in Black families sitting down for Sunday dinner.

While Sunday dinner's origins are rooted in chattel slavery, when enslaved Africans only day of rest was Sunday. Black families looked forward to a larger feast on those days. But while the options provided to the enslaved weren’t the best, Black Americans have always been able to transform the little they had into revolutionary additions to American cuisine.

The story of the Black Sunday dinner is one of resilience and community in the face of adversity. Sunday dinners with the main character expand in community as their family welcomes guests to join their weekly family ritual. When his teacher asks the class to share a family tradition, Sunday dinner becomes the obvious choice. 

I loved this book because of Twitty’s fearless and honest voice and how, as a gay and Jewish Black man, he reached for his innermost self through Southern travels, finding his culinary family along the way. Twitty has pieced together so many components–cooking, history, memoir, genealogy, discoveries as he travels to research, and even religion and sexual orientation issues.

Reading it, I was educated and entertained. I learned how much our American culinary culture contains influences from African Americans all the way back to the beginning of slavery. I also loved that it is a book of triumph as well as a lesson in good writing. There are even some recipes!

Until 2000, What Mrs. Fisher Knows About Old Southern Cooking (1881) was considered the first cookbook authored by a Black American. It was then that historians chanced upon an incredibly lucky finding: a copy of A Domestic Cookbook at the bottom of a box. As far as we know, there’s only ONE copy left of this little 39-page collection of recipes, which was first published in 1866.

Historians and researchers have delved deep into the mystery of author Malinda Russell, but we barely know more than she tells us in her introduction -- a life story laid out in stark, gripping first-person over just two short pages. As a business owner who specialized in pastry, Russell’s book has upended assumptions about 19th-century Black women and African American cuisine. In such a slim volume, she still includes 70+ kinds of cake and comments that “a great many ladies have wished to… show more.

Beyond appreciating this memoir’s important content and the masterful way Dr. Blackstock raises awareness about a public health crisis that needs prioritization, I love this book because the author reaches into the depths of her own family history in a very vulnerable way that discloses the personal in order to deliver a message that everyone needs to hear.

The implications of Blackstock’s argument about healthcare and medical racism should matter to every human body, thus making this book urgent reading material for all—from doctors to patients and their loved ones.

Blackstock unearths and examines a harsh truth for readers: inequities perpetuated by the racial hierarchy do serious damage to the human body, but it doesn’t have to be that way. And it won’t be that way forever if people become more aware and concerned and then work relentlessly to change the system.

I might not have written my own family history without the example of this book. I was enthralled when I read this compelling, well-researched, and well-written “family memoir” (as Murray calls it) years ago.

Everything about it drew me in, Murray’s compelling voice, the depth of her research, her descriptions of her relatives, and the vanished world they inhabited. Magisterial in every sense of the word, this is family history as American history, by a woman who was a lawyer, activist, and, in 1977, at age 67, the first black woman ordained an Episcopal priest.

Her book continues to inspire me to strive to meet her example.

This book has everything: found family, family scandal and mystery, and sports drama galore!

As someone who always wanted to play softball but was scared of striking out, the bravery of this story on all fronts inspired and thrilled me. Stone balances sports and STEM in such a creative way, showing rather than telling young fans they don’t have to go all in for one column or clique. They can be a little bit of everything and never be “too much” for their true team.