Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Introduction
I know what you might be thinking: What is a basketball Hall-of-Famer doing writing a cookbook? What could I possibly know about food and cooking? Well, I’m gonna tell you something: You don’t get to be 7'1", 325, with a 7'4" wingspan and size 22 feet, without knowing a thing or two about how to eat. As I like to say, I got a G-14 classification—the special clearance you get when you’ve won titles—for knowing a thing or two about a thing or two, and that includes what makes for a good meal.
For a long time, I didn’t have to think too much about what I’d be stuffing into this big mouth of mine. I had my sisters and my mom—my job was to look out for them, and they spoiled me and cooked. And they did it well. Mac ’n’ cheese, fried chicken, barbecued chicken, banana pudding—they played the hits. Oh, and plenty of spinach, too, because I thought I was Popeye, and it was the only vegetable I’d eat. Even though we didn’t have much, we always had good meals. I don’t know how my mother did it, but every day was a hell of a breakfast, hell of a school lunch, and hell of a dinner.
Lucille O’Neal was also a stretcher—she knew how to make a lot from a little. She figured out how to take inexpensive ingredients, like eggs and chicken, and change ’em up over the course of the week. Then, when the money would start to run out, we’d go to our safe haven of cereal—especially Frosted Flakes, which remains one of my favorite foods to this day. Just check my pantry (and Frosted Flakes–Crusted French Toast on page 93 and Frosted Flakes–Chocolate Chip Cookies on page 213). And there’d be, like, ten pounds of sugar in the house at all times, so we could get as much mileage out of our lemonade as possible. But no matter what, our mama never made us feel like there wasn’t enough to go around, and there was always room for more people at the table. You may wonder where this physique came from, but take one look at my mother and you know who is responsible for this big ol’ heart.
I like to say that what keeps me motivated is my MBA—mama, babies, and associates. I’ve got my brother and sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces, six beautiful children with two beautiful women, plus teammates, friends, and partners who, along with their families, have become like relatives over the years. I take care of this crew in all kinds of ways, and you know there’s gonna be a good meal to go along with it; whether it’s people stopping by to watch the game, having a barbecue, grabbing some breakfast, or just kicking back. And now that I’m middleaged, I finally realized it was time for me to contribute in the kitchen. I thought, You know what? I gotta learn how to cook. I want my mom to officially hang up her apron, retire her number, put her feet up, and watch General Hospital. And I wanna cook for my kids. Growing up, they knew three things: 1. Never interrupt Daddy’s nap on game day. 2. My love for them is unconditional—forever and always. 3. If you want to touch my cheese, you have to get three degrees—a bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate or JD. And now they also know, especially thanks to spending most of the year 2020 together 24-7, that I’ve got them covered in the kitchen too.
When it came to learning how to cook—something that’s not exactly easy, considering my schedule—I knew that I had to give the process a Shaqification. I may have a doctoral degree in education, but I have never claimed to be the smartest guy in the room. So, I became an expert at taking things that are difficult and breaking them down into simpler parts. It started back when I was in school—When did Columbus arrive in America? I couldn’t memorize it, so I made up a little song—1492, this is what we gotta do; 1492, this is what we gotta do. I took the information and made it work for me. The same went for basketball. You know how I learned to play ball? By watching the greats, like Alonzo Mourning, Bill Russell, Hakeem Olajuwon, Isiah Thomas, Julius “Dr. J” Erving, and Wilt Chamberlain. How did I learn how to cook? Same thing—from watching the all-stars: my mama, my executive chefs Matt Silverman and Matt Piekarski, and my personal chef Alex Conant. I couldn’t do the real fast boom boom boom boom that the chefs do; so once again, I figured out how to make it work for me. I’m real good at following directions, so I asked for a bunch of simple recipes that were full of the flavor, which my mother taught me and in which I’ve since received an honorary chef’s degree from all the eating I’ve done throughout my life. With those basics, I realized I could do some pretty good work. And the same will go for you—it’s like anything else in life: the more reps you get in, the better you become.
The mission to tighten up my kitchen skills is also what led me to develop my line of appliances—so I could just press a button, walk away, talk to my kids, maybe have a Strawberry Shaquiri, and ding, get dinner on the table. Can you make these recipes without these time-saving, strong move-making, love life–improving appliances? Most definitely. But do I think everyone’s kitchen is better with a little Shaq in it? Damn straight I do.
But this book really is about the food. When it came time to think of titles for it, I first wanted to call it Recipes for Dummies, because that’s how easy I wanted the methods to be. But then I thought, maybe, Shaq-a-Nova, because I wanted to show all those young people out there how important and easy it is to do something helpful around the house. But, then, the obvious right choice came along: Shaq’s Family Style, because if you’re making these meals for your loved ones, even if it’s just one or two nights a week, you’re winning.
The recipes you’ll find here are inspired by a combination of things: mostly recipes I know I can make (as in, not very difficult), things from my childhood (pancakes, fried chicken, barbecue chicken, mac ’n’ cheese, banana pudding, Oreos), things I love to eat (pancakes, fried chicken, barbecue chicken, mac ’n’ cheese, banana pudding, Oreos), places I’ve been (loaded waffles from Atlanta, St. Louis-style ribs, Louisiana jambalaya), people I love (my mama’s meatloaf, spaghetti and meatballs), things I believe in (like the kind of great meat you can get from Meat District and put in everything from tamale pie to smash burgers), and, of course, some of my world-famous inventions (Smack Ramen, Big Chicken, thammiches—not to be confused with sandwiches). And they are going to have you covered for every meal of the day, whether it’s just you and your family, or the whole neighborhood getting together. I even threw in some recipes for when you want to keep things a little bit healthier. I can’t say that it’s what I’m about 100 percent of the time, but I do know how important it is to balance some of those shrimp and grits and chicken tenders with things on the lighter side, so you don’t end up with a BOTB—Barkley over the Belt. These recipes are more exciting than the whitefish and asparagus diet that my trainer Roc Shabazz once tried to keep me on, but they’ll still have you looking just as strong as me. But really, anything made with from-scratch ingredients is a heck of a lot better than anything you get going to the drive-thru or heating up from a package.
Okay, enough talkin’—it’s officially game time. So, grab your apron, grab your whisk, maybe give yourself a little pump-up speech in the mirror, hear the fans chanting your name, and get into that kitchen. And don’t forget to send me an invite for dinner sometime; just make sure there’s chicken.
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