On a warm afternoon in the virtual rolling out studio, the conversation on “Food, Forks & Flavor” turned from simmering skillets to simmering history. Two women who have spent the last four years excavating a truth America has long ignored: Black food isn’t just part of the American story — it is the American story.
Meet Anela Malik and Renee Wilson, the powerhouse duo behind American Soul: The Black History of Food in the United States, a sweeping new book that is equal parts cookbook, cultural commentary, historical archive, and coffee-table showpiece. The book, published by National Geographic, is making waves before it even hits shelves.
“Nothing great comes overnight,” Wilson laughs. And she’s right. This project has been fermenting since 2020, though its roots run far deeper — to childhood kitchens, military barracks, embassy dinners, and family legacies that stretch back generations.
The book America didn’t know it needed
American Soul is as ambitious as its title. Malik describes it as a “part cookbook, part historical narrative, part exploration,” an odyssey through Black foodways from the colonial era to the present.
It charts two parallel diasporas:
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The Africans forcibly brought to the colonies whose agricultural genius shaped Southern cuisine, and;
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More recent immigrant communities whose recipes and rituals have become inseparable from the nation’s palate.
Wilson underscores its urgency. “People of color’s contributions — everywhere, not just food — are erased. This book is us saying: ‘no more. This is the truth.’”
When a pandemic sparked a movement
Strangely enough, the idea crystallized during the isolation of the pandemic, a time when the world briefly claimed to care about Black lives. For Malik, a former U.S. diplomat and lifelong food aficionado, it felt like a calling.
“I had been sharing Black culinary stories for years,” she says. “Suddenly, the world realized I existed.” Her editor suggested pairing her historical lens with a Black culinary expert. Enter Wilson.
Wilson, a New York–based chef and military veteran, was scouted specifically because the publishers wanted a Black woman chef — rarer in the industry than most realize. She had the technique, the pedigree, and something more: a curiosity awakened at just the right moment.
“I’d baked for fun. I went to culinary school using my GI Bill. But Black food? Southern food? I never saw myself in it. Working on this book changed me. It was like finding my ancestors on a plate.”
Anela Malik: The diplomat who followed her appetite
Malik first entered food at 15, working restaurant jobs to get through college and grad school. After receiving her master’s degree from Georgetown, she took a “big-girl job” in Jordan as a U.S. diplomat — yet food pulled her right back in.
“I refused to be that American eating burgers abroad,” she jokes. Instead, she used food to break out of the expat bubble, practicing Arabic at local markets and learning dishes from home cooks.
She also carried the weight of a family that taught her the history schools refused to. “I grew up knowing we built this country. My mom even made me color a children’s Bible so Jesus wasn’t white. Turns out she was right about a lot.”
When 2020 erupted, her storytelling went viral. The book offer followed.
Renae Wilson: The chef who didn’t know she was writing her own origin story
Renee’s path couldn’t have been more different. “I didn’t want anything to do with food,” she admits. After leaving the military and moving to New York to pursue music, she burned out quickly — “It was hard and racist.”
With GI Bill benefits ticking down, she enrolled in pastry school, then culinary school.
She became a sought-after food media professional, cooking and developing recipes for Bon Appétit, EatingWell, Real Simple, and more. Still, something was missing.
“I never claimed Southern food. I’d say I cooked ‘everything.’ It wasn’t until this book that I realized my family’s food was worth honoring.”
One discovery floored her: her great-grandmother had been a chef, feeding entire Texas towns from her tiny kitchen. “Holiday tables filled with turtle, ham, goose, squirrel, every kind of salad—this was a woman who cooked with abundance. That was my heritage, and I didn’t even know it.”
A book, a web series, and a mission
Malik’s larger body of work interlocks with American Soul. Her web series, Our Block, travels across the U.S. spotlighting Black communities, activists, artists, and—always—food. It expands the book’s mission into a living archive of the Black present.
“All my work intertwines,” she says. “Everything I do is rooted in community.”