Forbidden Feasts: The Official Lights Out Cookbook and Apron Gift Set

There are two kinds of people in this world. There are responsible adults who carefully compare prices, consider whether 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 available for preorder, literally squealed, 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 by Navessa Allen, you probably understand why there wasn’t much of an internal debate. I absolutely fell in love with Josh and Aly’s story, Josh had already earned his place as my very first Book Boyfriend, and I wasn’t remotely ready to leave their world behind when I reached the last page. So when I discovered there was an entire cookbook inspired by them, complete with an apron, my inner fangirl had essentially clicked Add to Cart before the sensible part of my brain could file an objection. Did I need another cookbook? Absolutely not. But at this point, Josh could probably put his name on a potato peeler, oven mitts, or a set of kitchen tongs, and I’d be standing there with my wallet open asking whether they came in matte black.

I expected Forbidden Feasts to be a fun collectible that would feed my Lights Out obsession a little longer. What I wasn’t expecting was to open it and realize just how much thought had gone into making it feel like an actual extension of Josh and Aly’s world.

First of all, this cookbook is freaking gorgeous. The photography immediately caught my attention with its rich colors, moody lighting, dark backgrounds, candles, and dramatic styling. Everything has that seductive, slightly dangerous atmosphere that fits Lights Out perfectly. I found myself lingering over the photographs before I’d even paid much attention to the recipes. They could have easily thrown together sixty ordinary dishes, slapped some naughty names on them, added a recognizable title to the cover, and called it a day. Let’s be honest, plenty of us probably would have bought it anyway. I certainly would have, because apparently Josh’s name gives him direct access to my bank account. Thankfully, that’s not what they did.

One of the first things I appreciated was how the cookbook is organized. Instead of simply dividing everything into the usual appetizers, entrées, desserts, and drinks, the five sections follow the progression of Josh and Aly’s relationship. We begin with First Temptations, move through Entanglements and Dangerous Mains, and eventually arrive at Forbidden Sweets and Nightcap Rituals. It’s a clever way to connect the recipes to the romance without sacrificing the practicality of a cookbook. Basically, we’re being seduced by food while retracing the relationship between a masked stalker and a woman who looked at all his red flags and apparently decided they made lovely decorations. Naturally, I approve.

The recipe introductions were probably my favorite surprise. Some are written from Josh or Aly’s perspective, and I found myself reading every one rather than simply flipping ahead to see what the food looked like. They capture the humor, personalities, and ridiculous situations that made me love these characters in the first place.

Blindfolded Tasting Board plays into Josh’s fondness for surprises, blindfolds, and being in control, while Josh’s Homemade Trail Mix reminded me of Aly discovering food from the Faceless Man in her car and wondering whether her stalker was being thoughtful or trying to poison her. Then there’s Potato Roses for Aly, Josh’s carbohydrate-based attempt to recover from the slight overreaction otherwise known as sending her an entire flower shop. And Josh’s Temptation Pancakes with Berries and Crème Fraîche brought back the completely normal experience of waking up to discover that the masked man who broke into your house had left breakfast. You know. Romance.

There are even little exchanges between the characters woven into the recipes. Ravish Me Chicken had me laughing because Josh starts with a comment about something being hot, spicy, and Italian before Aly takes over and explains why the traditional name Marry Me Chicken isn’t quite their style. Considering these are two people for whom muddy, sweaty woods make perfectly acceptable romantic scenery, I have to agree. Ravish Me Chicken is much more on brand.

And it isn’t only Josh and Aly getting dragged into the kitchen. Fred naturally has Fred’s Stolen Focaccia, because we all know unattended carbohydrates belong to Fred. Moira gets her Irish Coffee, Uncle Nico’s Sicilian roots are represented with Uncle Nico’s Pasta with Clam Sauce, and Wendy and Clarence are remembered through Chana Saag After Dark. I loved seeing those connections to the supporting characters, especially because they reminded me of the friendships, family relationships, and smaller moments that made Lights Out feel like more than just a dark romance.

Then I started paying attention to the recipe names, and apparently nobody involved in creating this cookbook had any intention of allowing us to behave like mature adults. There’s Thirst Trap Hot Wings, Meatball Obsession, Shibari Pretzels, Love Your Ass-paragus, Heart Beet Salad, Blood Moon Puttanesca, Perfect Alpha Steak, Lingerie Cookies, Chocolate-Stuffed Strawberries, Candy Pearl Necklace, edible chocolate “latex,” Lights Out Black Velvet Cupcakes, and Josh’s Baklava. And yes, the baklava acknowledges the whole balaclava/baklava situation from the book. Apparently, the goal was to make sure none of us could browse the dessert section with a straight face.

The drinks are just as entertaining. There’s Red Flag Sangria, which might be the most appropriately named beverage ever created for this particular romance, along with Angry Aly, Martini, Wet? Or Wet and Dirty?, Moira’s Irish Coffee, Sex in the Woods, Throat-Soothing Tea, and After-Hours Golden Milk. By the time I reached Banana Smoothie with Optional Banana Peg, I had accepted that subtlety had packed its bags and left several pages ago.

But underneath all the naughty names and inside jokes, there’s a legitimate cookbook here. That’s what impressed me most. These aren’t simply novelty recipes designed to get a laugh before the book goes back on the shelf. There are dishes I could genuinely see myself making, along with cooking tips, substitutions, and variations that make the recipes more approachable. I also appreciated the inclusion of gluten-free options and recipes that can be adapted for vegan diets. It shows that some consideration went into making the food enjoyable for different people rather than relying entirely on the Lights Out connection.

There’s a nice variety, too. Some recipes are ridiculously simple, like trail mix or a tasting board, while others are more involved, with pasta, chicken, steak, lamb chops, ramen, shakshuka, and lasagna. Then there are the desserts, coffee drinks, cocktails, and mocktails. Some dishes would be perfect for date night, others look like comfort food, and a few seem specifically designed to make dinner guests ask questions I may or may not want to answer. Somewhere along the way, I stopped laughing at the names long enough to start mentally putting together actual menus.

I also appreciated how many smaller references were worked into the recipes and introductions. Aly’s exhausting hospital shifts, Josh’s attempts to take care of her, their ridiculous banter, the coffee and wine, the cold weather, Fred’s food crimes, and the Trocci family’s involvement all make appearances in one way or another. These little details were especially enjoyable because they didn’t feel like random references included simply to remind us which series the cookbook belongs to. They brought back specific moments and relationships I remembered from reading Lights Out.

And that’s where Forbidden Feasts really won me over. I bought it expecting a beautiful collectible, but reading through the introductions felt like getting another little visit with characters I wasn’t ready to leave behind. Yes, there are masks, blindfolds, ropes, kink, and enough wildly inappropriate humor to make it obvious which fictional world we’re visiting. But there are also reminders of the quieter, more affectionate moments between Josh and Aly. Beneath all their chaos, so much of their relationship was about learning what the other person needed and showing up for them in their own unconventional ways. I wasn’t expecting a cookbook to remind me of that part of their story, but it did.

Of course, being this gorgeous created an entirely different problem because apparently the prettier something is, the less capable I become of using it like a normal person. Part of me wanted to tuck the entire gift set safely away with the rest of my bookish treasures, while the other part wanted the cookbook somewhere I could actually enjoy it. Eventually, the coffee table won. Now I can pick it up whenever I want, admire the photography, revisit the introductions, or find something I might want to make.

It also makes one hell of a conversation starter. If someone comes over and immediately recognizes it, I’ve found another person who understands the obsession, and we’re probably about to spend the next hour talking about Lights Out. If they don’t recognize it, I get to explain exactly why they should read the book. Either I find one of my people or I recruit a new one. I consider that a win either way.

And then there’s the apron, which is apparently responsible for giving me an idea I’m now completely incapable of letting go: I need to host a Lights Out-themed dinner party.

I’m thinking Blindfolded Tasting Board or Thirst Trap Hot Wings to start, Ravish Me Chicken for dinner, Lights Out Black Velvet Cupcakes or Josh’s Baklava for dessert, and Red Flag Sangria, because there is absolutely no universe in which I host a Lights Out dinner and don’t serve something called Red Flag Sangria. Add candles, moody lighting, the cookbook, the apron, and a table full of friends who have read the book, and we have ourselves a perfectly reasonable evening for grown adults.

I may even make my hubby wear a mask and pretend he’s Josh while I play Aly for the evening. He put a ring on my finger willingly, so I feel like there were warning signs.

I do want to make one distinction when it comes to the recipes themselves. Although I found plenty that I genuinely want to try, my rating is based on the cookbook’s presentation, creativity, variety, instructions, and how much I enjoyed reading through it as a Lights Out companion. I haven’t personally prepared and taste-tested every dish, so I can’t claim that every recipe turns out perfectly. What I can say is that the recipes look appealing, the instructions offer useful guidance, and the cookbook gave me far more reasons to use it than I originally expected.

WOULD I RECOMMEND FORBIDDEN FEASTS?

Absolutely, especially if you’re a fan of Lights Out and want something that lets you revisit Josh, Aly, Fred, and the rest of their wonderfully chaotic world. It’s a beautiful companion cookbook with entertaining character references, clever recipe names, gorgeous photography, and enough variety to make it useful beyond simply being a collectible.

I’d particularly recommend the cookbook and apron gift set to readers who enjoy bookish merchandise that actually serves a purpose. You can display it, read through it for the humor and familiar moments, or use it to plan a themed date night or dinner party. The apron makes the set even more fun for anyone who wants to bring a little Lights Out atmosphere into their kitchen.

That said, I think fans of the novel will get the most enjoyment out of it. Much of the humor comes from recognizing the characters, their relationships, and the events being referenced. If you haven’t read Lights Out, you can still appreciate the recipes and photography, but you’ll miss some of the inside jokes that make the cookbook so entertaining. I’d recommend reading the novel first, both for the context and because some references may reveal details about the story.

MY FINAL VERDICT:

Forbidden Feasts: The Official Lights Out Cookbook and Apron Gift Set turned out to be so much more than the fun collectible I expected. The photography is beautiful, the organization is clever, the recipes offer plenty of variety, and the character introductions had me laughing my way through the pages. I especially appreciated that the creators didn’t rely entirely on recognizable names and naughty jokes. They put together something that feels connected to the original story while still functioning as a cookbook.

What made it a five-star experience for me was how much I enjoyed exploring it. I bought it because I wanted another piece of a fictional world I loved, but I ended up with something that brought back favorite characters and memories, introduced me to recipes I genuinely want to try, and somehow convinced me that what my life is missing is a dark-romance-themed dinner party.

I wouldn’t change anything significant about the presentation or concept. For what I wanted from an official Lights Out companion, it delivered beautifully. It’s gorgeous enough to display, entertaining enough to read for fun, and practical enough that I fully intend to put some of those recipes to use.

And now I just have to decide whether I should purchase a second gift set so I can keep one safely tucked away on my bookish trophy shelf. Oh, who am I kidding? The opportunity to pretend I have any restraint flew right out the window several paragraphs ago. We both know I’m buying another one.

Final Book Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5) | Spice Rating: 🌶️ (1/5)

And yes, apparently I’m giving a spice rating to a cookbook. The recipes themselves aren’t explicit, but between the suggestive names, playful innuendos, darker romantic themes, and Josh being Josh, Forbidden Feasts was never getting away with a zero rating. One pepper feels appropriate for a cookbook that manages to be naughty without actually being a spicy romance novel.

CONTENT & TRIGGER WARNINGS

Although Forbidden Feasts is a cookbook rather than a novel, it contains adult humor, sexual innuendos, references to kink and BDSM-related themes, and imagery inspired by the darker elements of Lights Out. Some recipe names and introductions reference stalking, masks, blindfolds, bondage, and other aspects of Josh and Aly’s relationship.

Readers with food allergies or dietary restrictions should also review individual ingredients and substitutions before preparing any recipes.

NOTE: This review reflects Forbidden Feasts: The Official Lights Out Cookbook and Apron Gift Set, purchased through Amazon.