Julia Mae was raised in a one stop-light town in Louisiana. Her kitchen was not gourmet. She didn’t have fancy appliances or tools. There was no central A/C to keep the room cool while she made biscuits. Meringues and creams were whipped by hand. Fruit and potato peelers were non-existent. Yet, she worked miracles in that kitchen.

I spent a great part of my youth attempting to emulate her cooking. With the patience of a saint, she attempted to teach my sister and I how to make pies, puddings, pancakes and more. Quite frankly, we were terrible, but I became mildly obsessed with getting it right.

In the deep-south, food is love. I’m bringing a bit of that to NYC.