Papa’s House

Papa’s house always smelled of pancake batter. Pancakes and orange and vanilla musk from his aftershave. The warm haze of the stove’s steam left me an eager five-year-old, awaiting the sound of the spatula’s spin and the sizzle of butter and cooking oil. Nothing else could beat the privilege he always gave me of topping each pancake with six chocolate chips. In all of his cooking perfection, he always managed to maintain the texture of the chocolate, so that the chips would melt on my tongue rather than in the cushion of pan-heated batter.

Commentary: Why Fox’s Series Empire is Taking Over

Empire has found a way to illustrate black culture in a manner that has drawn in a multitude of ethnicities, with 62% of its viewers of African American descent. It is the first time, in a long time – in my humble opinion – that a show did not seek out to please the masses (yet is somehow doing so), but rather it has targeted underserved audiences. Empire is a total paradox. A juxtaposition, if you will.