In Miami, these dinners blend food, faiths and dialogue about honoring ancestors
How do we honor and remember our loved ones after they die? Every religion and spiritual tradition has an answer to that question.
Miami native, Nadjeda Cherilien, is using food and dinner table conversations to bring people together to discuss questions like these and share pieces of the culture and tradition that make up the fabric of South Florida.
Cherilien said the main intention behind her new dinner series, called “Seasoned Stories,” is to open people’s eyes to the similarities between different cultural traditions while connecting through shared stories.
“When I was doing my fellowship at Sant La, I recognized that we share a lot of similarities with other communities as it pertains to celebrating our ancestors or the dead,” Cherilien said, referring to Sant La Haitian Neighborhood Center based in North Miami. “I was recognizing that, my goodness, there’s so many similarities, even with the foods.”
Seasoned Stories began as a capstone idea for Cherilien’s fellowship, and eventually became a reality with help from the Green Family Foundation and Sant La.
At the pilot event over the weekend, local faith leaders and community members explored what their faith traditions teach them about death, grieving and celebrating the legacy of ancestors.
The focus of the night was Fèt Gede, or “Festival of the Dead,” a tradition sometimes referred to as the Haitian Day of the Dead, which incorporates Vodou traditions. Attendees heard reflections from a Haitian Manbo (or priestess), a Muslim Imam, a Christian pastor, and a member of the Jewish community.
The practices that celebrate ancestors — Dia de los Muertos in Mexican culture, Fèt Gede in Haiti and All Souls Day in Christian religions — may be different, but the goal is basically the same: to honor the deceased and keep the memory alive of those who have died.
And showcasing those commonalities by bringing in various speakers, Cherilien said, is at the heart of Seasoned Stories.
“We’re more alike than we are different, and I want to continue to highlight those similarities as opposed to those differences,” she said. “Being able to see the humanity is absolutely important, which is why Seasoned Stories came about.”
Using food as a way to break the ice or bring people together is not a new concept. Cherilien’s new dinner series joins other events, such as “Awkward Dinners,” a program by South Florida People of Color that aims to “challenge social norms, unlearn biases, and embrace uncomfortable conversations” over a meal. There’s also We Met in Miami, a nonprofit that, though not food-focused, is meant to combat loneliness by facilitating connection and building community. We Met in Miami is hosting a healing event called “Grief in Community” later this month.
Understanding the history of Vodou
Held in the backyard of The Vegan Marie, a vegan Haitian restaurant in Little Haiti, a few dozen people trickled in wearing traditional Gede festival colors — purple, white and black — on Saturday, the weekend after Halloween.
On the menu, catered by Chef Patrick Thezan, was a meal made up of traditional Haitian dishes — including a beet and potato salad, roasted epis chicken with dion dion rice and ‘pain patate,’ or spiced sweet potato pudding, for dessert. An outdoor bar served creole punch and sangria.
As people dined under the stars, Charlene Désir, a professor at Nova Southeastern University who teaches about Vodou and pan-African spirituality, spoke first about the concept of Vodou and how it is linked to the Haitian Revolution.
“Vodou is a legacy of our ancestors,” she said. “When the Africans came, or were brought to the Americas, the first ones landed in Haiti … When they got onto this land they were given Catholicism, Christianity.”
In a speech at times reminiscent of spoken word poetry, Désir explained that Vodou was practiced by the slaves as a way to process their survival and challenge European colonialism.
“The Haitians decided, if our bodies are enslaved, our minds are not because were are spirit,” she said. “There is one God, and we are all children of God. So they created Creole, a language that all pan-Africans can speak together… and then they created a system of understanding the cruelty of what they were facing, and that was Vodou.”
In Haitian and African cultures, ancestors are a huge part of life. November is a special month to celebrate the dead, but for many Haitians, honoring ancestors is a year-round practice.
Désir talked about her grandparents, lineage and invited the audience to connect with the energy of their ancestors throughout the night.
“This is a constellation of understanding that everyone has these different energies in their families,” Désir said.
Désir explained the various Gede spirits, like Baron Samedi, the spirit that takes souls to the afterlife and Brav Gede the watchman of the graveyard. She said that every family can have a Gede, or a group of spirits that represent the death and fertility of a family, and the importance of preserving memories.
“We remember. Even though we were born in the U.S, even though we can’t speak Creole, even though we’re Christian … even though we’re straight, we’re queer, we have abundance of spirit memory and we must use that.” she said.
Vodou has been persecuted throughout history for having links to “magic and witchcraft,” a pejorative view that resurged during the American occupation of Haiti in the early 1900s. Event creator Cherilien said she didn’t grow up practicing Vodou, and that conversations about it in her own household were “often taboo.” But, she said her grandfather was deeply connected to Vodou healing and spiritual practices.
“That duality shaped my curiosity and respect for how spirituality and culture intersect across the diaspora,” she told the Herald.
Exploring new faiths
Some speakers touched on the notion of Vodou being misunderstood.
Pastor Nyya Toussaint, an associate pastor at First Church Miami, spoke about how many Christians can be hesitant to explore other faith traditions, such as visiting a mosque or partaking in a Gede ceremony.
“I think it’s an important time, if you haven’t, if you are a part of the Christian faith to question, to explore… You don’t have to give up your faith,” he said.
Toussaint, who grew up in the Pentecostal Church, introduced the concept of “double belonging,” adding that some people may find meaning in multiple faith traditions.
In true Miami fashion, Jamaican air horns and house music could be heard blaring in the distance from a neighbor’s background as the speakers discussed their connections to ancestors and death. And though the topics were heavy, the speakers kept their remarks light and conversational.
“Grief doesn’t always have to be a sad moment, it can also be a moment of joy,” said Cherilien.
Kyle East from the activist organization Jewish Voice for Peace spoke about the Jewish perspective on death and mourning.
“We also have a communal mourning and connecting with our beloved dead practice called Yizkor. It’s a service that we do on Yom Kippur, the highest holy day of the year… we also make space to bring in our ancestors.”
East also spoke about a practice, traditionally done by Azkhazi women, where people visit the grave of ancestors, wrap a wick around their grave and then use the wick to create “soul candles,” to remember them for different parts of the year.
To close the evening, dancers from the “NSL Danse Ensemble,” dressed in purple, white and black told the story of life and death through movement.
The next Seasoned Stories dinner will be in early 2026, Cherilien said. The theme is likely going to be renewal and new-year traditions, drawing inspiration from across the African diaspora and in places like Japan and China.
“The goal is to continue creating spaces where people can see themselves in one another’s rituals and stories,” she said.
This story was produced with financial support from Trish and Dan Bell and from donors comprising the South Florida Jewish and Muslim Communities, including Khalid and Diana Mirza, in partnership with Journalism Funding Partners. The Miami Herald maintains full editorial control of this work.
This story was originally published November 12, 2025 at 5:30 AM.
