inspired us to cook. My mother, of course; so easy, | thought. | would interview her when | got home that<br>evening. But our teacher insisted that it be someone professional, like Escoffier or James Beard. My<br>dilemma was that the only chefs Id heard of were the ones on TV: Julia Child, the Frugal Gourmet, and the<br>Cajun chef Justin Wilson.<br><br>I wanted to write about someone who looked like me, and like my mother and grandmothers. | began my<br>search for a chef that | could admire. | started trolling around on the Internet without finding much on the<br>subject of notable black women cooks. | searched at the public library, and after some digging, I found an<br>article about a woman called Edna Lewis.<br><br>Edna Lewis's search for taste, as well as her story, stuck with me. A black woman from the South, Miss<br>Lewis moved to New York to start a whole new life, first as a laundress, later as a seamstress and<br>restaurant chef. She was never formally trained, but she had grown up cooking in rural Virginia, was<br>hardworking, and loved wholesome food made with fresh ingredients. This sounded like many of the<br>women in my family before me. As the opening chef at Café Nicholson in New York in the 1950s, she<br>showcased simple food and was heaped with praise for it. Through Miss Lewis | realized that there was a<br>history of black women, like me, in professional kitchens, and that | wasn't alone.<br>