ATHENS, Ga. — After I exit the highway heading to my hotel, the first business I notice is a lunch spot called Plantation Buffet. The sign slaps me in the face with irony, as I've traveled here to meet with Nicole A. Taylor, the author of the recently released "Watermelon and Red Birds," the first major cookbook honoring the Juneteenth holiday. The restaurant served as a harsh reminder of Black pain, even as I was there to write about a highly anticipated book centered on Black celebrations. But for Black Americans, the intermingling of joy and sorrow is just a fact of life.
Juneteenth commemorates the anniversary of June 19, 1865, when more than 250,000 enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, first learned they were freed — two months after the Civil War had ended and 2 1/2 years after the Emancipation Proclamation. The first Juneteenth was celebrated in 1866, and until recently has predominantly been the realm of African Americans with Texas roots. While Taylor recalls hearing about the holiday during her time at the historically Black Clark Atlanta University, it wasn't until a little over a decade ago, when she stumbled upon a celebration at a Brooklyn park, that she began observing the holiday herself and has done so every year since.
Now it's a federal holiday, and this year she plans to observe Juneteenth in Athens with friends and family by hosting an event to celebrate her cookbook. Given the time and energy spent writing it, in addition to the past two years we've all experienced, particularly the recent targeted killing of Black people at a Buffalo grocery store, "I want to relax as much as possible," she says. Taylor teared up over lunch just thinking about all of the trauma Black people have gone through, the pain bubbling beneath the surface. "I have to turn it off if I want to get some work done."
Taylor's longtime literary agent, Sharon Bowers, first suggested that Taylor write a Juneteenth cookbook, saying it would be her magnum opus. Bowers had learned of Taylor's Juneteenth celebrations from her first book, "The Up South Cookbook," published in 2015. "Sometimes in the world of cookbook publishing, publishers use 'niche' as a term to denigrate a book's potential sales," Bowers said via email. "But I knew that this particular niche was really special, and Nicole's big-hearted, generous way of celebrating it was highly specific to her. And since she's a food professional with serious writing chops, it seemed obvious to me that she should write this book."
Taylor wasn't convinced. In fact, she says, that very niche-ness — plus the fact that she's not from Texas — caused her to delete the first email where Bowers brought it up. Bowers kept broaching the idea, and around 2018 or 2019, Taylor finally gave in and started drafting a proposal.
Then the pandemic happened and the murder of George Floyd sparked widespread racial protests, bringing a new national interest in Black life. "In the spring of 2020, after being in lockdown and seeing and being a part of the Black terror, the depressive state caused by the murder, the massacre of unarmed Black people ... being a part of that and experiencing that, I knew that I wanted this cookbook to be a guide to joy," Taylor says. "I knew for certain that this book is needed, and I can do this."
In June 2020, Taylor and her partner, Adrian Franks, purchased five acres of land, sight unseen, in Athens, where she was born and raised, and moved there from Brooklyn with their young son, Garvey, to ride out the pandemic. The couple call it the Maroon, named after the people who escaped slavery and created their own communities. The house, which they also plan to operate as a retreat, is filled with "touches in each room where you find Black culture and Black life," Taylor says. They include a Sonos speaker featuring Sheila Bridges's Harlem Toile pattern and skateboards from Jean-Michel Basquiat in the den; artwork from her husband, who also did the illustrations for the Museum of Food and Drink's Legacy Quilt; and wallpaper from Malene Barnett in the kitchen where she tested all of the recipes for the book. "You see intentionality because the Maroon house is a creative space for Black people, and it is the space that I grounded myself in to create this cookbook," Taylor says.
I jokingly call her the queen of Juneteenth, a title she vehemently denies. "I have been blessed to have a microphone to talk about Juneteenth foods. And I want to make that very clear," she says, citing others, such as Opal Lee, who fought hard to get the day recognized. However, "I would call myself the queen of Black celebrations," noting all of the cookouts, HBCU homecomings, kickbacks, happy hours and other such events she has hosted and attended throughout her life.