Southern Culture Cuisine was born from the soap-slicked floors of The Starving Artist Café, where dreams and dirty dishes collided in equal measure. Picture a 15-year-old dishwasher, wide-eyed and unaware, stepping into the culinary underworld. Chef Shawn Crookshank, part sage, part pirate, handed over an apron with a raspy laugh and a motivational speech that teetered on the edge of sobriety. By the end of the night, Chef Roger Goodson was tossing beers my way like they were rewards for surviving the chaos. This was no ordinary introduction to the food world—this was initiation by fire, steam, and the faint promise of something bigger. In the immortal words of Hunter S. Thompson, “I bought the ticket, and I took the ride.” The journey out of small-town Appalachia to Charleston, South Carolina, felt like a culinary escape act. Johnson & Wales dangled the illusion of a traditional education, but Charleston’s kitchen trenches delivered the real schooling. Days evaporated into nights, and nights turned into folklore, as chefs like Chris Brant and Fred Neuville hammered the truth into my skull: passion and chaos fuel this industry. The Lowcountry’s pluff mud became the backdrop for a baptism of heat, salt, and smoke. Every shift was a chapter in a wild saga of culinary sin and redemption, and every scar was a badge of honor. Southern Culture Cuisine’s true origin story didn’t happen in a single kitchen, but in the realization that food could be more than fuel or art. It could be connection, rebellion, and salvation. After years of grinding through kitchens, the spark reignited with guerrilla-style dinner parties. These were no ordinary meals—they were clandestine festivals of music, art, and unholy indulgence. It became clear: food wasn’t just a dish, it was a bridge between people and their passions. The idea for Southern Culture emerged from this chaos—a company that could connect the dots between farmers, chefs, and the communities hungry for authenticity. What started as a scrappy sushi business has transformed into a full-blown operation: Southern Culture Cuisine Appalachian Produce & Food Service Provisions. Today, it’s a lifeline for local farmers and a beacon for chefs seeking soul in their ingredients. We’re not just delivering produce; we’re delivering the poetry of Appalachian fields and the promise of a shared table. It’s messy, imperfect, and gloriously human—a rebellion against the sterile world of mass production. The mission is simple: honor the land, uplift the people, and throw one hell of a dinner party along the way. Here’s to the ride—let’s keep it rolling.