When the news broke that beloved chef and television personality Anne Burrell had passed away at just 55, the culinary world and her legion of fans were left reeling. For many, it felt impossible that someone so vibrant, so full of life, could be gone so soon. But for those who knew her best—like fellow chef and close friend Sunny Anderson—the loss was almost too much to bear.

In an exclusive, emotional interview, Anderson opened up about her friendship with Burrell, the memories they shared, and the lessons she learned from a woman who was, in her words, “larger than life.”

A Presence That Filled the Room

“It’s just shocking,” Anderson began, her voice trembling with disbelief. “We’re not supposed to be talking about somebody at 55 years old being gone. Especially Anne Burrell, who seemed larger than life. She took up all the space in a room, but in the best way possible.”

For Anderson, Burrell was more than just a colleague on the Food Network circuit. She was a force of nature, someone whose energy was infectious and whose love of life was impossible to ignore. “You meet so many people in this business,” Anderson reflected, “but there are certain people who just have this energy. That was Anne. She outwardly enjoyed this thing called life.”

Not Just Colleagues, But True Friends

Anderson and Burrell’s friendship went far beyond the cameras and culinary competitions. “We started together at the same time,” Anderson shared. “We’d hit each other up, go over to each other’s places, catch a meal, and just laugh about everything.”

Their connection was built on shared experiences and a mutual respect that only deepened over time. “In the last few years, we got to this point where it was like, ‘Girl, we started together and we’re still here. Let’s celebrate each other.’”

But, as with many close friendships, there were bumps along the way. Anderson admitted that there was a time when their relationship wasn’t perfect. “At one point, we weren’t great. But I wanted us to be great. I hit her up, we cleared it all up, and it was the best friendship I’ve had since then. It was like a clean slate—happiness, great vibes. She was an awesome friend.”

A Final Meal, a Lasting Memory

Anderson’s voice caught as she recalled their last meal together—a memory now tinged with both joy and sorrow. “I don’t take breaking bread lightly,” she said. “Our last meal together, we were on such a high. We ate well, we laughed, we planned. I feel like I’m living the cliché you always hear: if there’s an issue with someone, clear it up. I’m so thankful I did that, and that we did that together.”

It’s a lesson Anderson hopes others will take to heart. “People always say, ‘If there’s something unresolved, fix it.’ I used to wonder who that could be for me. It was Anne. And we fixed it.”

The Private Side of a Public Star

Despite her larger-than-life persona, Burrell was also deeply private—especially when it came to her health and personal struggles. Anderson shared that she was unaware of any health issues Burrell may have faced. “We adored talking about the silliness. Gardening, conventions, what she was going to eat. We never talked about health struggles.”

What Anderson remembers most, though, is Burrell’s unwavering positivity. “Some people, you get on the phone and it’s all complaints. That was not her. She was always excited—‘Let me tell you what I just did, let me tell you what I’m about to do.’ She was full of life.”

A Stage Until the End

In the days before her passing, Burrell was still doing what she loved. She had recently performed at Second City, the legendary improv theater, and by all accounts, was her usual, effervescent self. “She was so excited about that,” Anderson said. “She went back for more. Everyone who was there said she was just, as usual, full of life and on a million.”

The Sweetest Side, Often Hidden

For all her bravado and kitchen command, Burrell was also deeply sweet and tender—a side not everyone got to see. “There’s a certain personality in chefs,” Anderson explained. “They’re like commanders. You have to put on that vibe. But then you go out for lunch and realize how much you have in common. That was Anne. She was both sides of that coin.”

Anderson wishes more people knew that softer side. “She was like a grown-up kid. If you didn’t know her sweet and tender side, I wish you did, because it was the sweetest and the most tender.”

A Legacy of Joy and Gratitude

As the conversation drew to a close, Anderson was asked how she thought Burrell would want to be remembered. Her answer was simple, but profound: “#lucky girl. She put that on every post. It was a reminder to herself and others—‘Wow, look at this. Look at this life.’ She was a lucky girl all around.”

Burrell leaves behind her husband Steuart, two cherished cats, and a stepson she adored. Anderson has yet to speak with Steuart, the loss still too fresh, but she sends her love and gratitude for the time they all shared.

A Final Lesson

In her grief, Anderson finds solace in the knowledge that she and Burrell repaired their friendship before it was too late. “I’m so thankful I did that. I hope it heals your heart a little bit to know that you actually did what so many of us don’t—you healed a part of yourself and repaired a friendship.”

Remembering Anne Burrell

Anne Burrell’s legacy isn’t just in her recipes, her television shows, or her unforgettable hair. It’s in the lives she touched, the laughter she shared, and the joy she brought to every room she entered. She was, as Anderson so beautifully put it, “larger than life”—and her spirit will continue to inspire long after the kitchen lights have dimmed.