An excellent and thought-provoking examination of what it means to be Jewish and to be black and Jewish through the lenses of food and religion. Twitty gets it. And then he helps everyone else get it.
Thanks!

I loved this book! Such an important discussion on the intersectionality of Judaism, Race, and Sexuality. Each of these conversations has been happening in parallel, but it is crucial that we overlap these discussion so that we can all appreciate the *AND* of experiencing all of these at once. It can also help others with empathy and being better allies. Calling out racism and anti-semitism brings the bad behavior to the surface, and awareness begets change.
The interviews were insightful and the range was diverse, as well. The recipes look AMAZING and such a fun blend of cuisines. I particularly loved the way he discussed bringing Southern and Black culture into his seder plate.
This is a must-read for everyone as we continue these conversations around diversity and allyship in the US.

Chef Twitty describes this book as a hybrid and I couldn't agree more. It is so much more than a cookbook. It's packed with history, religion, personal experiences, culture, and recipes. My favorites are the spice mixes. I also liked Chef Twitty's suggestions to change up recipes using ingredients you may not have thought to use.

Thank you to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers

Michael W. Twitty is a chef and author I have been following for years. While I do have his first book, The Cooking Gene, I jumped on this ARC the first chance I got. I am so glad I did.
Even if you aren't a religious person, this is a gem of a book you need on your TBR.
Twitty talks about his time traveling and teaching at Hebrew School, and all of the microaggressions and hoops he had to jump through just to exist.
You will be drawn in by the history, the detailed descriptions of all of the delicious ingredients and foods, and Twitty's heartfelt storytelling.

Food writer and culinary historian Michael W. Twitty has an incredible gift for exploring meaning, purpose, and nuance in food we often take for granted. In this book, Twitty dives into the intersections of Black and Jewish cuisines and cultures. Koshersoul weaves together Twitty's experiences as a Black gay Jewish man, interviews, recipes, and more. While it felt a little scattered at times, I still thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

I read Michael Twitty's other book and i really enjoyed it. I wanted to read this to read more about him being Black and Jewish and how the intersect and help him create food. I like how we get the traditional dishes of various African countries, to the meals cooked up in the slave cabins of his ancestors, to the Ashkenazi and Sephardic traditions that are now his traditions,

I like Michael Twitty's writing, it eloquently expresses his cultures and his love of food. Being Jewish myself I love that he talks about one Jewish motto, that goes into many of our celebrations and food. They tried to kill us; they failed; let’s eat.

I hope others enjoy this look into Michael Twitty's culture and food.

Thanks NetGalley for this ARC!

Everything Michael W. Twitty touches is gold. From his first book, to his rice cookbook, to his appearance on Waffles & Mochi on Netflix, he can do no wrong.

KosherSoul is no exception. This book is an education, a celebration, and a recognition all in one.

It’s not hugely often that I’m in time to spot Jewish books on NetGalley (I’m deeply realistic about what I have time for, so I tend to not browse the NetGalley shelves too often!), but I was thrilled when I happened to be clicking through and stumbled upon Koshersoul: The Faith and Food Journey of an African American Jew by Michael W. Twitty (Amistad Press, 2022). I have Mr. Twitty’s first book, The Cooking Gene, on my TBR, but haven’t gotten to it yet, mostly due to the pandemic (it’s available at a nearby library, but I’ve been staying out of other libraries for the most part, in the attempts to keep their foot traffic lower). I was so excited when I received notice that my request had been approved. Into the world of Black Jewish cooking I dove!

Michael Twitty is a chef and a writer, living at the intersection of Black and Jewish in a country (and a world) that doesn’t have an excess amount of kindness for either group. That said, despite people’s confusion, despite people not understanding and deliberately not bothering to learn, being Black and Jewish co-exists beautifully together and is expressed lovingly in many ways, chiefly in the food that Mr. Twitty cooks. From the traditional dishes of various African countries, to the meals cooked up in the slave cabins of his ancestors, to the Ashkenazi and Sephardic traditions that are now his traditions, Michael Twitty finds deep meaning in the art and flavors of cooking and how his many beautiful identities affect his culinary creations.

Part-memoir, part academic history, part exploration of the culture of food and how our identity contributes to what we cook (and how Black identity in particular brings not just baggage, but joy and beauty), Koshersoul defies genre – maybe making the point that those of us with multiple intersecting identities defy traditional classification as well.

Michael Twitty is a talented, eloquent writer. His writing is scholarly enough to challenge my exhausted, pandemic-addled brain, but friendly and comfortable enough that reading this is joyful. He writes of his life, his ancestors, with a deep reverence, and the same reverence is afforded to the food he creates and serves. To him, cooking is an art and deserves the same respect afforded to works of art, and his veneration of tradition has made me consider cooking in a different way: less of a chore, more of an act of worship, a respect for those who came before us, a celebration of who we are and our survival over the centuries. They tried to kill us; they failed; let’s eat.

Koshersoul wanders from subject to subject; it doesn’t follow any linear structure, but that’s part of what keeps it so interesting. His interviews with other Black Jews and chefs (many of whom I already follow on Twitter, so it was great seeing their words in long form!) intrigued me, but I also deeply appreciated reading Mr. Twitty’s experiences, difficult as some of them must have been to recount (racism is, unfortunately, alive and well in the Jewish community). The book is also heavy on Judaism and his life within it, so that absolutely called to me and made my soul happy.

Koshersoul is available from retailers on August 9th (and it contains recipes!).

I'll admit, I requested this ARC on a whim, as I was really interested in the premise of a book on the intersection of Blackness and Jewishness, particularly through the lens of food. And while I do think we kind of got that, I did feel like the concept here was a little all over the place. The food aspect often felt like an afterthought, and while I did find the normalization of Black Jews and the centering of that particular intersection to be really interesting, I just didn't feel like the entire book was particularly cohesive--I wanted a tighter narrative focus, and this almost felt like I was reading an early draft/collection of possible topics, not a finished work.

I'm also neither Black, nor Jewish, and while it's never explicitly stated anywhere, it felt very clear that I'm not meant to be this book's audience. There's a lot of Yiddish in the text, oftentimes without definition. On the one hand, I can appreciate the centering of the Jewish experience, but as somebody with a decent familiarity with Jewish customs due to learning/friendships, but without the deep knowledge that comes from lived experience, it felt like I was missing a lot of context while reading.

Finally, there was the recipe section at the end, which is what I was most looking forward to, but I found a little underwhelming. Essentially none of the recipes have photos, which for me is a pretty basic requirement, and nothing quite spoke to me. I think this is partially just because I'm not the right audience.

I did enjoy the book overall, but I think I didn't quite understand *what* this book was supposed to be. I can appreciate the sort of fusion attempts here, but ultimately I think it tried to do a bit too much.

As someone who read--and absolutely devoured--The Cooking Gene, I am familiar with Twitty's style of writing (I also follow him on Twitter). Like The Cooking Gene, this does cover quite a bit of territory/stories (and tends to meander a bit, but it's fine), is deeply personal, and is wholly unique.

I am neither Jewish nor Black, so I know very little about the history of Black Jews. I am from New Orleans and am familiar with the history of general Southern cooking and its deep roots in African and Black American food/cooking. I found this a very enticing and eye-opening read.

Many thanks to Amistad and NetGalley for a digital review copy in exchange for an honest review.

A fascinating discussion of the intersectionality of one man's Black Jewish identity. Something of a sequel to his prior work, The Cooking Gene, Twitty writes about his experience as a Black Jew who is too often dismissed or reduced to only part of his identity. Twitty's experiences as a Hebrew school teacher and observant Jew are interspersed with selections from the Torah and Talmud, as well as interviews with other Black Jews. Though it is listed here within the Cooking section, it probably belongs in the Religion or Sociology sections in a bookstore, despite the small collection of excellent recipes in the back.

Thank you to NetGalley and Amistad for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I was thrilled when I saw this book available, and even more excited when I got approved. And while I truly wanted to love this book, I just ... didn't.

What I did like is the effort the author makes towards normalizing Black people being Jewish. Not every Jew is white-passing, and Black Jews do exist. As he says:

"I want people to know that being Black and being Jewish is not an anomaly or a rare thing. I want people to know how these two identities have such a rich history that the lesson's we've learned across time and space complement each other and have so much to teach us about community, self-determination, diaspora, nomadism, and collective liberation."

He also discussed how powerful collaboration between these two marginalized groups can be.

The summary talks about exploring the way that food and traditions from two different diaspora communities can be combined to create something that honors both sides. And while I fully respect that, I didn't actually see much of that in the book itself.

Instead, I learned more about three hundred years of Baltimore's history, a ton of random comments from others, and musings on how Jewish the author is, with a hefty dose of Ashkenormativity, despite the author's express statement that he isn't Ashkenormative. In fact, he clearly states that he is "a Black American member of a Sephardi/Mizrahi congregation," but there is a ridiculous amount of Yiddish thrown into the text. Much of it isn't defined, and I only understood because I grew up in a Yiddish speaking home. And I get that Yiddish is especially hard to translate into English sometimes, not just the meaning, but because the alphabet isn't the same as the one that we use - it's written using the Hebrew alphabet. I noticed that some words were spelled wrong (leaving a letter out, such as using "kop" instead of "kopf" to mean head), and that the spelling used for other words (mayseh, for example, took me a quarter of the book and a discussion with my Yiddish-fluent mother to decipher as "meise" or story).

Although I was born and raised Jewish, and have a very accepting view on other Jews - whether they are matrilineal/patrilineal, or identify as converted or returned to Judaism - I do have an understanding that not everyone is as understanding or welcoming. The author identifies early on as a convert, and from what I know, not everyone in Jewish circles is as open towards converts. The author's experiences clearly show in his constant need to prove his "Jewishness" through the text in this book. It breaks my heart to know that people who have made a conscious decision to come to Judaism and undergo the conversion process aren't always accepted, and made to feel as "other." But when someone tells me they're Jewish, I just look at it like, "okay, welcome to the family." Instead, the author reverts to Yiddish words whenever and wherever he was able to cram them in, despite practicing as a Sephardic/Mizrahi Jew, which has their own cultural diasporic languages and practices. It came across as overdone and unnecessary. And the fact that these Yiddish terms weren't clearly defined made this a prime example of Ashkenormativity, or viewing Jewishness solely or primarily through an Ashkenazi lens.

I would have liked to learn more about how African American and Jewish foods can be combined. Instead, I was subjected to diatribes about Eastern European Jews being "white," despite all evidence, including genetic, showing that they aren't white people from Europe, but a distinct cultural group from the MENA (Middle East and North Africa) region, who simply lived in Europe as part of their diaspora journey. Ashkenazi Jews are often white-passing, and can certainly benefit from that privilege at times, but ultimately aren't actually white.

And as the last thing I would have expected from a book that was supposedly centered around food and faith, seeing the topic of Israel/Palestine arise not once but multiple times, completely turned me off. It felt an awful lot like the author might have wanted to talk about food and faith, but got sidetracked immensely, venturing into topics that weren't related at all. Let me say this for the people in the back - NOT EVERY JEW WANTS TO DISCUSS ISRAEL/PALESTINE IN EVERY OR ANY CONVERSATION. And while this is a topic that is often close to the heart of many Jews, especially those with ties to Israel, it certainly didn't have a place in a "cookbook."

As for the cookbook part, I found myself distinctly underwhelmed by the vast majority of the 50 or so recipes that were included. A few of the recipes sounded vaguely interesting, but had such long ingredient lists of things that aren't typically in many cabinets, that I'm extremely unlikely to ever try them out. And while I was looking forward to seeing his mac and cheese kugel, which wound up including raisins? Is this an actual thing? Because it's something that definitely doesn't appeal. I don't know, maybe there are people out there that enjoy raisins in mac and cheese, but I've never come across any of them.

I think I could have liked this book more if it was more focused on food and merging the recipes from two different cultures, rather than throwing ingredients or styles from one group into the other, or just adding in a Jewish or Yiddish dish name (like kugel).

This book has a lot of detailed information for people interested in learning more about Jews of Color and African-Jewish cooking.