Food is Storytelling.
It's no surprise that many writers find themselves drawn to the food world, either as chefs, bakers, food writers, or cookbook editors. You can discover a lot, some even think the most, about a person by learning about their food stories. Our culture as Americans, especially us Southerners, is no exception.
Buttermilk Road Sunday Suppers started out in 2012 with the notion that you could easily connect a city full of people with one idea: a family supper, all at one table, over wine, shared bowls of greens, and, of course, a biscuit or yeast roll.
When I came up with the Buttermilk Road Sunday Supper concept in 2012, it was out of a deep desire to cook for people while also exploring a community that I didn't have the time to as a hustling writer/pastry chef/mother of two/broke ass creative. I wanted to still cook for people and with people. I wanted to learn more about where I had been living for years, more about the region - from Mississippi to Floyd, Virginia - that my family had roots in. I wanted to be with my kids while I learned about where I was in the present tense, where my family had been in the past, and where I was heading in the future. All of this through food? Yes.
And things grew. I grew. The Sunday Suppers were exuberant for a couple of years. People came and shared and laughed and shot whisky out of empty dessert bowls. Second line parades with full brass bands marched down the East Nashville streets. People came from San Francisco and New York to feel the feels. It was good.
And then it was time to stop. But the stories continue. The search continues. The ideas keep coming. And, now, Buttermilk Road is more about collecting and traveling and experiencing what the world, not just Nashville or the South, has to offer. I'm still so proud of my roots as a pastry chef and feel really fortunate that my hard work and dedication to that craft still keeps me moving around, baking for and with some of the finest chefs and friends in this country. I find stories every day in my travels. Buttermilk Road is where I can share that. Here is where those stories will live.