If you have seen the movie or read the book, THE HELP, then you will know how I was raised from the time of my birth in 1946 until my "Mother of Color" left to nurse younger children, in 1956. She woke me in the morning with kisses and put me to bed with wonderful Gullah stories. My first language was Gullah, and I still speak it. For my parents part, they knew they had a gem in this wonderful woman, and compensated her well for her nursing efforts (I have seen the ancient, fading cashed checks).This book is a wonder of fabulous memories of foods, all of which I have eaten. I especially remember the poor man's bread which I used to beg Willie Mae to make. Now understand, this is not a Julia Child endeavor - it is a work of art. But you will come away will a visceral understanding of both the historical and culinary in-breathing that surrounds the island that can only be reached by boat.