My road to collard green enlightenment opened up, of all places, at the checkout at T.J.Maxx. The cashier’s beauty was captivating. She was at least six feet tall, her skin the color of black-brown mascara, and her smile a shade of light unachievable by dental work. She was twenty-four and extremely nice. After my inquiring about the origins of her accent (South Sudan), and introducing my project (Immigrant Kitchens), she offered to teach me how to cook her favorite dish from home. A couple days later, I got a text. Nyatiem Lual: “Hey would you like to have a goat meat?” I felt like I’d just won a trip to Africa.