Adrian “The Soul Food Scholar” Miller, is the author of the 2014 James Beard Foundation Award-winning book Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a Time. Follow him @soulfoodscholar

I'm a peaceful man, but sometimes I do things that are best described as "fightin' words." This is such an occasion—here, I've dared to rank the top ten essential soul-food dishes of all time. 

Soul food—a cuisine that fuses West Africa, Western Europe and the Americas—is no stranger to controversy. Though the label floated around black culture at least a decade earlier, "soul food" had its breakout moment in the 1960s when Black Power advocates declared their independence from the narrative forced upon African Americans by white hegemony. Food was included in that ambitious project. Soul food was presented to the world as a cuisine wholly distinct from southern food, even though they shared common ingredients, culinary techniques, and history. 

It was a brilliant marketing move, but it was ideologically incomplete for two reasons. Despite the conscious effort to create difference, the lines between soul and southern cuisine are blurred inside the American South—so much so that even African Americans call what they eat southern food. Secondly, African Americans were left to fill-in-the-blanks as to what soul food is. Soul food's malleable definition was sufficient to get buy-in from African Americans all across the country, but it also allowed for a lot of regional and personal interpretation. 

Now, a half-century later, we can look back to see that a consensus has developed as to what should be on a soul food plate. Like many soul-food aficionados, my childhood memories of what I ate at home, at my grandparents, at church, and at restaurants have shaped the ranking that follows. I've endeavored to be as objective as possible by stepping back from my own personal preferences and adding what I have gleaned from the stupendous amount of research that I did for my book on the history of soul food.

Whatever follows, I'm certainly not trying to bad-mouth anything that any loving caregiver served you while growing up. Still, it's time to set the record straight. Here is a countdown of the best soul-food dishes. 

Without a doubt, chitlins (a.k.a. chitterlings) are the most controversial choice for this list, since they are the most divisive and misunderstood item on the soul-food plate. People either love them or hate them (count me on the "love" side) because of what they are (usually pig's intestines), or because of how they smell when being cleaned, cooked, or eaten. Regardless of the intense feelings, it's undeniable that chitlins have played an important role in the soul-food story. As early as the Middle Ages, the European gentry savored venison chitlins after a successful deer hunt, and in time, the intestines of domesticated animals like cows and pigs became a food enjoyed by rich and poor folks alike. In the antebellum South, both blacks and whites on the plantation prized chitlins after a fall hog-killing. African-American migrants took a love of chitlin-eating to urban areas outside of the South, and thanks to urban butchers and slaughterhouses, chitlins became a year-around treat. 

Black-eyed peas, actually a bean, have legendary status. Though native to West Africa, most people associate black-eyed peas with New Year's Day. Millions of African Americans have borrowed and transformed an old European superstition: that you can attain good luck when someone with dark eyes is the first to knock on your door on January 1st. Though the superstition doesn't have an analog in West Africa, black-eyed peas were traditionally eaten on auspicious occasions like the birth of twins or religious days honoring certain deities. When one gets a taste of some black-eyed peas bathing in a seasoned, smoky broth, one will understand why this dish was once considered a "food for the gods."

Dessert was a foreign concept in pre-colonial West Africa. Even so, sweet potato pie became a classic soul-food staple. Enslaved West Africans accustomed to a traditional diet that included tropical yams found sweet potatoes to be a useful substitute. In the beginning, the popular dessert choice was a simple whole sweet potato roasted in embers of a dying fire. First, enslaved cooks eventually added some eggs, milk, and spices to mashed sweet potatoes. Once cooked, the new culinary creation was called a sweet-potato pone. In time, a bottom crust was baked underneath the pone. Sweet potato pie has an annual showdown with pumpkin pie as the dessert of choice on Thanksgiving. It's not a problem, though: With African Americans, sweet potato pie is undefeated.

There was a time when cornbread was so essential to a soul-food meal that certain foods like greens wouldn't be served unless cornbread was present. Cornbread is just one example of the influence that indigenous people in the Americas have on this cuisine. In addition to making traditional Native American corn-based breads like pone (later called hoe cake), enslaved Africans made familiar breads from West Africa using cornmeal as a substitute. Soul-food cornbread is distinguished from southern cornbread by the fact that it always has some sugar in it. Some misguided souls believe this transforms soulful cornbread into cake. No matter. Whether it's hot water cornbread, Jiffy mix, or spoonbread (a cornbread soufflé), cornbread is the staff of soul-food life.

Traditionally, West Africans made seafood their protein of choice, and African Americans have carried on that culinary tradition. Even during slavery, the weekend fish-fry was a much anticipated event. On a typical plantation, the field work schedule stopped by noon on Saturday, and the enslaved spent the rest of the day doing chores and food-gathering activities like fishing. Catfish gets the most press these days, but any number of fish would be gobbled up depending on what was available: buffalo, mullet, perch, porgy, and whiting, to name just a few. Frying was the preferred way to cook fish because it allowed the food to be enjoyed on the spot. This gives further proof to the old saying, "Fish should swim twice—once in water and once in grease."

In soul-food culture, "red" is a color and a flavor. We don't get caught up in discerning whether or not something is cherry, has hints of cranberry, or is a tropical punch. It's just red. The enduring popularity of red drinks is a nod to two traditional red drinks—kola tea and hibiscus tea—that came to the Americas during the Atlantic Slave Trade. Red drink can take several forms, but it is often served as Kool-Aid or as a punch.

Peach cobbler can thank technology, in part, for its elevated status over other soul-food desserts. Cobblers were once a seasonal fruit dessert only enjoyed during late spring and the summer months. It typically was made in a large cast-iron pot set over a fire. The pot was filled with any available fruit, some additional sweetener, and some spices, and then the entire thing was topped with a crust made from leftover biscuit dough. With improvements in canning technology, fruit cobblers could be eaten year-round. As ovens improved, soul-food cooks could now add a bottom layer of crust, thus making the dish a little fancier. Peaches, it turns out, were once thought of as an aphrodisiac. This may explain why, despite the existence of so many types of cobbler, peach has captured so many hearts.

I know elderly African Americans who believe that mac 'n' cheese is wholly created by soul-food cooks, but that's clearly not the case. The confusion may arise from the fact that enslaved cooks were introduced to this dish outside of an Italian context. Before significant waves of Italian immigrants arrived in the U.S. by the late 1800s, wealthy whites visiting Europe fell in love with mac 'n' cheese and brought recipes back with them. White planters like Thomas Jefferson introduced the dish into Big House kitchens. Enslaved cooks were called upon to prepare the dish, typically on the weekends or when special guests dined on the plantation. After Emancipation, African Americans embraced this dish and made it a part of the culinary repertoire for Sunday dinner. It has retained its special status ever since.

Vegetables get much love on the soul-food plate, and greens (the edible leaves of certain plants) are the most consistent starring attraction. Most African Americans trace their roots to West Africa, a region where greens are a mainstay of many local cuisines. Enslaved West Africans brought a taste for greens with them across the Atlantic. Because they couldn't get the bitter tropical greens they were used to eating, African Americans substituted the bitter greens that Europeans cultivated—the most popular being cabbage, collards, kale, mustard, and turnip greens. Those greens are eaten year-round, but have special meaning on New Year's Day as symbols of prosperity. For those who have discovered collards and kale in the last five to ten years, welcome to the party. We've been eating them for nearly four centuries.

Fried chicken is one of the most glorious things ever created. It's one of the few foods that could be served for Sunday dinner, at church functions, or for other special occasions. Though it is beloved by many cultures, there are several bones of contention as to exactly who should get credit for inventing this dish. Whether it was a cook in West Africa, Western Europe, or Southeast Asia, fried chicken has become an African-American favorite. Classically fried in a cast-iron skillet, made Nashville hot, or paired with a waffle, fried chicken has divine status in soul food cuisine. No wonder we've nicknamed it "The Gospel Bird."