The Official Lights Out Cookbook and Apron Gift Set

There I was, innocently minding my own business, casually browsing upcoming books online when suddenly…well, HELLO there. 👀 You sweet, beautiful book, you. Come to mama.

There are two kinds of people in this world. There are the responsible adults who carefully compare prices, ask themselves if they really need another cookbook, and make logical, well-thought-out financial decisions. Then there’s me…the woman who stumbled across Forbidden Feasts: The Official Lights Out Cookbook and Apron Gift Set, audibly gasped, and somehow convinced herself this wasn’t an impulse purchase at all. It was practically self-care.

In my defense, if you’ve read Lights Out, you’ll understand why there wasn’t much of an internal debate. I absolutely fell in love with Josh and Aly’s story, and when I reached the last page, I wasn’t ready to leave them behind. So the moment I discovered there was an official cookbook inspired by the story, my inner fangirl had already clicked Add to Cart and preordered two copies—one for me and one for Sam—before the sensible part of my brain even had a chance to interject.

Did I technically need another cookbook? Absolutely not. I’ve owned enough cookbooks over the years to feed a small army, yet somehow I can still end up standing in front of the refrigerator wondering whether peanut butter toast qualifies as a balanced dinner. But did I need Forbidden Feasts? Apparently yes, because at this point Josh could probably put his name on a potato peeler or a pair of kitchen tongs, and I’d be standing there with my wallet open asking whether they came in matte black.

Then it arrived. Whatever tiny amount of restraint I’d shown while waiting for release day disappeared the second I had the package in my hands. I wasn’t putting it aside for later. I wasn’t finishing whatever else I was doing first. I opened that box immediately because I had waited long enough, and apparently patience stops being a virtue when one of your favorite fictional worlds shows up on your doorstep.

The first thing that struck me was how beautiful the whole thing was in person. I knew from the product photos that it looked good, but actually holding it was different. The cookbook felt substantial and thoughtfully made, the design was gorgeous, and the entire set immediately felt more special than the kind of licensed merchandise you buy simply because you recognize the name on the cover. And yes, I absolutely unfolded the apron too, because apparently opening this package had turned into bookish Christmas morning.

Naturally, I opened the cookbook right away expecting to flip through the pictures, skim a few recipes, bookmark a dessert or two, and decide what I wanted to try first. But that is not what happened. Instead, I started reading. Not just the ingredients. Not just the cooking instructions. I found myself reading every little introduction, every bit of commentary, and every clever callback tucked between the recipes. Before I knew it, I’d spent the better part of an hour sitting on my couch with Forbidden Feasts in my lap, grinning like an idiot because it felt like I’d been invited back into Josh and Aly’s world for one more visit.

Navessa’s opening line sets the tone perfectly: “Your kitchen has never seen anything like what’s coming next…and neither, my darling, have you.” It had that same playful, mischievous energy I loved about Lights Out. Right from the beginning, this cookbook knows exactly who it was made for.

Then I reached the recipe names. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time a table of contents entertained me this much. Somewhere between Ravish Me Chicken and Lingerie Cookies, I realized I was laughing more than I was menu planning. There were times I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was supposed to cook the recipes or blush at them, but either way, they fit Lights Out perfectly.

One of my favorite details is the commentary sprinkled throughout the recipes. The introductions don’t feel like filler. They remind me of moments from the book, make me smile at the callbacks, and help every recipe feel connected to the world instead of simply borrowing its name. Here, I was actually slowing down to read everything because I was enjoying myself.

And then there’s the food itself. Blood Moon Puttanesca immediately caught my attention because I’m a sucker for pasta, while the Chocolate Pomegranate Tart practically had me drooling before I finished reading the page. Heart Beet Salad somehow made beets look far more appealing than they ever have sitting in my grocery cart, which feels like witchcraft all by itself. I’m still undecided about whether I’m brave enough to attempt Morning-After Shakshuka before coffee because I’m barely capable of forming complete sentences first thing in the morning, let alone poaching eggs with confidence. Future Me can deal with that challenge.

And then there’s Josh’s Baklava. Naturally, that was one of the first recipes I bookmarked because if Josh likes it, I clearly need to sample it for myself. That’s perfectly logical bookish reasoning, and no one will convince me otherwise. I’m doing research. Obviously. 😂

The quality of the physical book impressed me just as much as what I found inside. The photography leans fully into the dark romance aesthetic with rich colors, dark backgrounds, dramatic shadows, gorgeous plating, and enough elegance that I found myself flipping through several times just to look at the photographs again. They are gorgeous.

That’s when I realized this cookbook was never going into a kitchen cabinet. It begs to be displayed, so mine now lives right on my coffee table. And honestly, that feels like exactly where it belongs.

It’s beautiful and elegant enough to function as a coffee-table book all on its own, but it can also make one hell of a conversation starter. Anyone who notices it is either going to know exactly what Lights Out is—which means we immediately have something to talk about—or they’re going to see Forbidden Feasts sitting there and wonder why I have a cookbook in my living room. I can already picture that conversation.

“Why is there a cookbook in your living room?”

“Because it’s pretty.”

“Okay. Have you made anything from it yet?”

“…That’s not the point.”

Except, in this case, I actually do want to make things from it. In fact, the more I flip through it, the more my squirrel brain starts plotting something dangerous. Apparently, simply making one recipe isn’t enough. Now it wants to host an entire Lights Out-themed dinner party. Clearly, moderation has left the building.

Just imagine it. A table dressed in black, candles flickering everywhere, dark floral centerpieces, themed cocktails, and a room full of people dressed as their favorite characters. We’d start with the Blindfolded Tasting Board, move on to Thirst Trap Hot Wings, follow that with Ravish Me Chicken, and enough Lights Out Black Velvet Cupcakes to make Josh proud.

At some point my neighbors would probably start wondering what exactly was happening over here, but honestly, that sounds like their problem. And yes, I would absolutely wear the apron. Is it necessary? No. Will it make my fangirl heart ridiculously happy? Absolutely. Will wearing it suddenly transform me into someone who gracefully prepares elaborate meals while looking effortlessly put together instead of someone who somehow manages to turn her kitchen into a crime scene? Probably not. But if I’m going to burn dinner while attempting a recipe inspired by one of my favorite books, I might as well look the part while doing it.

I also know exactly how this hypothetical dinner party would go once everyone sat down. We’d probably spend about five minutes talking about the food before somebody mentioned Josh, and then the entire evening would deteriorate into a debate over whether he is husband material or the reason therapy exists. Actually…those two things might not be mutually exclusive. 😂

When I finally closed Forbidden Feasts, I had to laugh at myself. I’d originally sat down intending to browse a cookbook. Instead, I’d spent the better part of an hour lost in its pages. I’ve decided this is perfectly normal behavior and will not be accepting questions at this time.

And that brings me to the easiest part of this review: the rating.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Five stars.

There really wasn’t much hesitation here because Forbidden Feasts delivered on every reason I wanted it while also surprising me in ways I hadn’t expected. As a cookbook, it earns points because the recipes don’t just sound delicious; many of them actually look approachable enough that I want to make them. A cookbook can be stunning, but if every recipe requires fourteen hours, an obscure ingredient imported by carrier pigeon, and equipment I’ve never owned, it isn’t particularly useful to me. This one made cooking look fun rather than intimidating.

As a physical book, it easily earns five stars for presentation. The photography is beautifully done, the dark romance aesthetic fits Lights Out perfectly, and the overall quality makes it something I genuinely want displayed in my home rather than forgotten inside my kitchen cabinet.

But as a Lights Out companion? That’s where it really got me. Josh and Aly’s appearances in the second and third books weren’t enough for me. I wanted more of them, and I wanted another reason to step back into the world that made me love them in the first place. Somehow, a cookbook managed to give me exactly that. Not by trying to become another novel, but by taking the personality, humor, atmosphere, and little pieces of the story I loved and turning them into a completely different experience.

That’s why Forbidden Feasts doesn’t feel like just a companion cookbook to me. It doesn’t rely on readers loving Lights Out enough to forgive a mediocre product. It stands on its own while still giving fans something extra.

If you enjoy cooking, there are recipes here you’ll genuinely want to try. If you love beautiful coffee-table books, this one is absolutely display-worthy. And if you’re a Lights Out fan who finished Josh and Aly’s story wishing you could spend just a little more time with them, Forbidden Feasts feels a little like receiving an unexpected bonus chapter. Except this bonus chapter comes with dessert.

So yes, I may have discovered Forbidden Feasts completely by accident, preordered two copies before the sensible part of my brain could interfere, and justified the whole thing as self-care. But after finally getting it into my hands? For once, my complete lack of bookish self-control made a damn good financial decision. 😂🖤

Now, if you’ll excuse me, apparently I have a Lights Out dinner party to plan, an apron to wear, and a suspiciously named chicken recipe that I’m just dying to try. 😂🖤