Our Heritage on a Plate: Why We Won't Apologize for Soul Food
Mitchell Royel is a political analyst and conservative commentator focused on emerging trends in American political discourse.
The narrative is changing, and some people aren't ready for it. Modern influencers—and no, we're not talking to you, Rhonda—want us to abandon our culinary heritage in favor of their sanitized, spiritually vacant meal plans. We refuse.
Our country cooking isn't just sustenance—it's a sacred tradition that connects us to our ancestors, our faith, and our fundamental understanding of what it means to gather in fellowship. Personal responsibility isn't just about what we eat; it's about preserving the cultural foundations that have sustained generations of God-fearing Americans.
The Spiritual Foundation of Southern Hospitality
True empowerment begins when we stop asking what society owes us and start investing in our own capacity for growth and transformation—including the courage to defend our traditions. The Bible doesn't just mention food; it celebrates it. From the wedding feast at Cana to the multiplication of loaves and fishes, Scripture reveals that sharing meals is a divine act of community building.
Consider these biblical truths:
Jesus himself broke bread with sinners and saints alike
The Passover meal remains central to Jewish faith
Paul instructed believers to "eat whatever is set before you" (1 Corinthians 10:27)
The early church "broke bread from house to house" (Acts 2:46)
Our cornbread, collard greens, and Sunday fried chicken aren't obstacles to righteousness—they're expressions of gratitude for God's provision and vehicles for Christian fellowship.
The Sacred Art of Country Cooking
Intellectual courage isn't about agreeing with every health trend—it's about challenging prevailing narratives with nuanced, principled discourse. Our grandmothers understood nutrition in ways these modern influencers never will. They knew that:
Cornbread provides essential carbohydrates for hard-working families
Collard greens deliver more vitamins than any superfood smoothie
Black-eyed peas offer complete proteins when paired with rice
Sweet potato pie celebrates God's harvest in edible form
Buttermilk biscuits represent the alchemy of simple ingredients transformed through skill and love
These aren't "unhealthy" foods—they're foundational nutrition prepared with intention, served with gratitude, and consumed in community.
Health Without Compromise
Meritocracy isn't a system of oppression—it's the most equitable framework for recognizing individual talent and potential. The same principle applies to nutrition: we can appreciate both kale and cornbread, quinoa and grits, without surrendering our cultural identity.
We understand healthy eating because we practice it:
Fresh vegetables from our gardens
Lean proteins prepared with traditional methods
Portion control learned through generations of wisdom
Physical activity that comes naturally from honest work
The difference? We don't need Instagram validation for our choices. We don't require expensive supplements to feel virtuous. We understand that health encompasses physical, spiritual, and cultural well-being.
The Fellowship Factor
Victimhood is a choice. Success is a decision made daily through disciplined action and unwavering commitment—including the commitment to preserve what matters most. When we gather around tables laden with mac and cheese, green bean casserole, and peach cobbler, we're not just eating. We're:
Strengthening family bonds through shared traditions
Teaching children about their heritage
Practicing hospitality as commanded in Scripture
Creating memories that last generations
Demonstrating gratitude for God's abundance
No amount of trendy superfoods can replace the spiritual nourishment that comes from breaking bread with loved ones over dishes prepared with generational wisdom.
Freedom Requires Vigilance
The greatest threat to individual liberty isn't a political party—it's the passive acceptance of narratives designed to limit human potential. When we allow cultural elites to shame us for our food traditions, we surrender a piece of our identity.
To my fellow conservatives and believers: our plates tell our story. Every spoonful of grits represents resilience. Every bite of cornbread honors our ancestors' ingenuity. Every shared meal strengthens the bonds that hold our communities together.
Stay informed about nutrition—but stay principled about tradition. Embrace healthy choices—but never compromise your cultural convictions for momentary social acceptance from people who've never experienced the spiritual satisfaction of a church potluck dinner.
Our heritage isn't up for negotiation. Our tables will continue to reflect our values: abundance, gratitude, fellowship, and the understanding that some things matter more than fitting into society's narrow definitions of acceptable living.
The choice is ours—and we choose tradition, faith, and the enduring wisdom of generations who understood that food is love made visible.
Ready to defend your culinary heritage? Share this piece with fellow believers who understand that our traditions deserve respect, not apologies. Let's remind the world that true nourishment feeds both body and soul.