Meet Female Founder, Nzinga Knight

My dad is Trinidadian, my mom is Guyanese, and I’m a first-generation Caribbean American who grew up in East Flatbush. My family is also Muslim. For me, growing up Muslim in this vibrant Caribbean culture, there were certain things I couldn’t do. For example, my folks stopped taking me to the Labor Day Parade when I was kid, and we don’t drink alcohol. But sorrel brings back memories of family gatherings where everybody would bring their specialty. My aunt’s speciality was the crab and callaloo, and sorrel is what my dad brought. Food has always been a way for us to enjoy and nourish each other, and at the same time preserve our culture in this new place where my family set up new roots.

We slow brew the ingredients in @brooklynbrewedsorrel to extract the flavor, and, by bottling it, that flavor builds over time. First you taste the floral sweetness from the hibiscus and cane sugar, but it’s not overly sweet. Then you taste a little tartness in your cheek from the citrus. At the end, you taste the ginger and spices.

With the packaging, I wanted to create something special. I’ve had people comment, ‘Oh, look at them trying to gentrify sorrel.’ It’s wrong to assume that because it’s a beautiful product, then it must be white people taking your culture and selling it back to you. I’m of the culture, and I’m presenting sorrel as it should be presented. This drink made its way from Africa to the Caribbean to America, over centuries — it’s a treasure. That’s the feeling I want people to have.

Above all, my recipe is authentic. It’s important to me that Caribbean people are like, ‘This is the real thing.’ Sometimes people suspect at first that it might not be the real deal. But when they taste it, they say it’s some of the best sorrel they’ve ever had.