Tal-mood

I'm going to wager that this is a first Talmud pun...🤔🤓✡.       

Often times, as I'm writing a style post that began as more one dimensional, it morphs into a deeper piece. I love when this happens. I admittedly feel like a bit of a douche waxing philosophic about an outfit. Sure, I love fashion. I really do. I have always used it as a means of expression. One of my earliest memories is of a four year old me wearing a faux denim cowboy dress, purchased from Pathmark. Um, as in the supermarket. My mother begged me to wear something else, but I stubbornly insisted on wearing that dress numerous days in a row. Questionable fashion choice, but good for me for owning Herself even in nursery school. It took me decades to gain footing in other areas of my life, but in that department I guess I stubbornly did my thang. However, while I really like clothing and accessories, let's face it; it's not what makes the world spin on its axis. So when I'm able to turn a style post into substance, I feel proud, especially since that evolves organically. It's always unplanned. While writing the post about the navy leather outfit, other ideas took shape in my hand. I referenced some but more thoughts remained that I wanted to share with you. That's the thing about a true idea; it's the center of a spiderweb of thoughts🕷.

It will always yield more, cause us to keep going. I mean, why stop? Surely there's someone you can ask/vent to/discuss with. THAT is what makes the world spin on its axis🌎. That is the point of this blog. In Judaism the Talmud encourages questions, discussions, and debates. Different rabbis represented opposing schools of thought, and laws were created based on how the majority opined. I loved learning Talmud when I was younger. I enjoyed the Aramaic in which it's written, and in general I love to analyze. But I've been grappling with this lately; does any organized religion truly welcome questions? It's easy to say that, as long as the answers and results yield the same. I have been feeling that the message might be, "Sure, ask away, as long as you stick the formula that the rest of us are using. Cuz if you don't, well..." Religion and spirituality are two completely separate entities, though they often get muddled together. Many use religion as a way of convincing themselves it's bringing them to a higher spiritual plain. It does not work this way. The only way to exist in a state of pure spirituality is to connect to your God given spirit, the one tool already within you. We were all given this incredible gift at birth. Imagine yourself full of this vast expanse of cosmic energy, just in the jacket of your amazing body. A jacket that's one day going to be removed, as hard as that is to admit.

Can it really be that our spirit, this undefinable magic, is affected by your sexual orientation, race, length of your skirt, celibacy, or in which direction you light the menorah? That if you're a girl with visible elbows or ankles, you are deemed less spiritual? That the amount of Hail Marys or psalms you say determines your relationship to God?  I say this not in ridicule but in genuine inquisitiveness. If God made all of us, ALL of us, and brought us into this world in such a state of clean perfection, do we really think He is setting us up for a lifetime of crawling through an obstacle course of rules just to return to Him? Don't you think He loves you more than that? The greatest spiritual teachers talk about how all our actions are based on either love or fear. When we act in a manner that's beneath us,  it's because we are usually deep down afraid of something. Afraid of not being loved, being unseen, being wrong, feeling not in control of our own lives, scared of death, feeling more jealous than we want to admit, etc. The following of rules, as I've come to see it, is a very fear based practice. It's a carefully constructed illusion of control. If I do this God will reward me.  If I do that I won't get struck by lightening.  If I do x I'll be known as devout in my community.  If I'm a good boy or girl I'm guaranteed a front row seat in heaven.  How did we get so conditioned by thoughts such as these? Think about it; other flesh and bone humans decided all these rules. What makes anyone the authority? Why are we so sure this is what God wants??? He never told any of us.

Interpretations of what other humans believe to be the will of God has morphed over the years into some pretty crazy shit. I had a teacher in high school who would be considered to be exceptionally devout. She taught me in tenth grade. I was flummoxed one day in class as she explained to us that after her adopted son turned 13, the age of bar mitzvah, she will no longer touch him in any way. Since he's not biologically hers, any physical contact between sexes is forbidden. WHA????? This reminds me of my favorite line in the film The Royal Tenenbaums, where the awesome Gene Hackman says of Gwyneth Paltrow,"and this is my adopted daughter, Helen." How sad a life for any child to not receive oceans of physical affection from his mother? How can that not lead to a life of loneliness, isolation, and neglect? To not kiss your son goodnight in the name of God? Come on. That can't be a divine wish. I know that's an extreme case, but I also don't think God really cares if I wait one, three, or six hours between eating meat and dairy. Or if I take a final with exposed ankles. Or if I hold hands with my (imaginary) boyfriend? Or if someone finds true love and peace with someone of the same gender. Or if I'm Jewish or not. I know God loves me, and that's frankly all I need to go forth. Look, He's not handing the manual to me just like He's not handing to manual to the Pope or the Chief Rabbi of Israel. All this is just what I believe He wants from me. And that is to be a kind, peaceful, giving, and receptive contributor to the world. To act from my spirit, not from a man made encyclopedia of rules.

Before these rule books, we already were given what we need to feel connected: the elements, the stars, our bodies, our breathing. There is no purer place than a hospital delivery room. When that baby comes out, attached to its mother, nestled in her arms, crying, blinking open its eyes for the first time, is that mother thinking ,"I can't wait to plow you with religious dogma so that you'll have a successful, proper life?" No, of course not. No mother is thinking that, nor is the father. The first thing any parent in a delivery room wants to know is if their new child is breathing. It's all that matters. A healthy, breathing child. As time goes on we want that baby to smile, to laugh, to eat, to sleep, to walk, to be kind, to let us hug them, to share with their little friends. Isn't it amazing how those things are all we want? Maybe this is what God wants from us too. If we were created in His divine image, and if within us exists this infinitesimal magic, maybe we are more similar to God than we are comfortable with. Because we are human, and humans feel adrift in the abstract. So we cling to restrictions and stringencies because we don't know how to get through the day without them. We need to trust more. Trust that God is happy with us the way He made us. God is too busy to make a half assed project. He already gave you all you need. Seek spiritual connection within, not from without. I promise it's more fulfilling that way. It brings a sense of calm to your life you didn't know was attainable. How wonderful to not live your life in outline form. If religions each have their own gazillion interpretations of life, then which one is right? It's impossible to determine that. There's no winner in that race because there's one judge, and He is rooting for all the competitors. So let's use what we KNOW we have and not what we THINK we need to live a spiritual life. Hey, no one ever arose from the dead to tell us what the heavens really want from us, so we can stop trying so hard feverishly to guess. If we all unzip our jackets of gender, race, and religion, we will find we all have the exact same tool kit. The one they give you with free formula samples in the maternity ward. Let's use that and see how it goes.       

Listen to Redbone by Childish Gambino

Pretzel chicken

This is a great way to make fried chicken tenders. My fam prefers this to traditional bread crumbs. It's so easy and makes the crispiest cutlets. Kosher peeps who can't mix meat and dairy can use regular pretzels, but those who aren't kosher should def experiment with those delicious flavored pretzels, like honey mustard or garlic Parmesan. I love the Snyder's brand for those. The plain pretzels I use are Bachman's but any salty brand will do. Since you're grinding the crumbs yourself you can play around with your choice of flavor. Don't 🙄 and not grind your crumbs; I promise it's quick and easy. And you'll feel so satisfied at making fresh crumbs. You can make extra in advance and keep in an airtight container for future use. There are other snacks that make great chicken tender crumbs: Terra chips, potato chips, Israeli BBQ twists or falafel bits. It's a fun variation and a sure fire hit with adults and kids alike.

Ingredients:

A pound of white meat chicken tenders

Three beaten eggs

Two cups all purpose flour

A large bag of plain pretzel twists or the snack of your choice (if you only have small snack sized bags just use several).

Directions:

Grind your pretzels in a food processor until crumbs are made. Set aside in a bowl. Put the eggs in one bowl, the flour in another. If using plain pretzels you can season the flour with a tbsp each of garlic powder and paprika. Seasoned flour always has a nice depth to it. Prep the tenders: dip each in four, shake off excess, dip in egg, then cover in crumbs.

Pat the crumbs in well to ensure they stick. Heat vegetable oil in a deep frying pan. There should be enough oil half inch up the sides when you fry (as in more than when you sautée). Frying oil must be very hot. You can test by tossing in a piece of bread.

Fry the chicken until golden brown on both sides. Remove onto paper towels to absorb excess oil. Serve with your favorite dipping sauce or condiments. This is a great party pass around, especially for a group of guys watching a game⚽️🏀🏈⚾️🏉. They'll think you're a genius.

Oh my cod

Lol, I couldn't resist this title😂🐟. At least I can amuse myself while churning out these posts. This excellent fish recipe was very easy and came out so impressive looking. It was legit professional 👏🏻. Delicious Mediterranean flavors here; fresh oregano, kalamata olives, fresh tomatoes, and thick, buttery cod. Baked and served atop wilted arugula, cooked with a touch of balsamic vinegar. This plated wonderfully.

I gave a serving to a cousin in a takeout container, and he wanted to know which restaurant it came from (sup, Josh). The fish stays moist since it's cooked covered, ensuring the perfect texture. If you didn't think you could cook fish perfectly, this recipe will prove you wrong. Go forth and sea what you're capable of, in the kitchen and out.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup kalmata olives chopped

2 tsp capers chopped

2 anchovy fillets chopped

1 garlic clove minced

1 tsp lemon juice

3 TBS olive oil

6 cherry tomatoes

1 TBS chopped oregano 

4 cod fillets

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400.  Spray a 9x13 baking dish.  Then mix anchovies, capers, olives, garlic, lemon juice, oil, and oregano.  Set aside.

Season fish with salt and pepper.  Pour mixture over fish and top with lemon slices.

Cover dish with foil and bake for 15 min.  

Now to prepare the arugla.  You will need:

1 TBS olive oil

2 garlic cloves sliced

8 oz arugula 

1 TBS balsamic vinegar 

1/4 tsp coarse salt 

Directions:

Heat oil in skillet with garlic.  Once fragrant add arugula and stir until wilted and then add vinegar.  Then season with spices.

Place finished cod over arugula and enjoy!  

Deer God

I have always wondered about the antler growing process on a deer. Or any other horned animal. I'd look at these heavy, majestic, massive, intricate horns and wonder

A)  How the hell do they walk around with those things??

B)  How insanely uncomfortable it must be to have the horns poke through the animals' heads.

Imagine hard, sharp objects fighting to pierce through your scalp. It's like teething from your skull. Babies writhe in agony as their teeth come in, and we parents desperately try to soothe them, knowing there's not much we can do. It's just a shitty process that's biologically necessary.

I am learning that life is a continuous series of shitty, difficult, uncomfortable growth processes. I often write about how growth is hard. That's because it is. Army crawling through dark tunnels of the mind, so that we can come out into the light of the other side. This doesn't appear to ever stop, and while that sounds annoying and exhausting, it also means we never stop growing. No tunnels means no emergence into light.

I have been reading a lot lately on self study, as a means to rework my thoughts and reactions. This is very uncomfortable work. It requires reaching deep into childhood memories to begin to understand our current state of adulthood. Why we react the way we do. Why certain situations trigger the F out of us. Why we are people pleasers, overachievers, why we choose people who enable us to perpetuate unhealthy patterns. Why we always need to be the mouse running through the maze, enduring hits and roadblocks just to get the cheese. It's the cheese we want, right? That little reward at the end that convinces us it was all worth it. We are good little boys and girls if we secured the prize. In my case the cheese is crumbs of affection, which I realized recently I've had to fight for my entire life. This is a hard truth, yet it explains oceans about my behavior and choices. I plan ahead, overdo, and preempt so I can ensure I get the cheese out of self protection. This was never done for me, so my self preservation instincts kicked in long ago so I can help myself. Or rather, I think I'm helping myself by getting that instant gratification, but I'm really harming myself. By focusing on the cheese, my vision of the process becomes very cloudy. I don't see people and scenarios as sharply as I should since I'm going for the prize. This is ironic and ridiculous, given what an observant, tapped in person I am.

I recently went through several instances that have forced me (thank god) to turn inward and figure my shit out. It was time. Time to face facts and gain awareness in order to change. The first step to achieving different results (and I REALLY want different results) is awareness. And awareness is tough because it humbles the shit out of us. It forces us to see how we are far less in control we are than we want to believe. We cling so tightly to convictions, rationalizations, and patterns in order to convince ourselves we have our lives together. It is very hard to admit we don't. However without this admittance, we will forever be stuck. There is no chance of a different outcome without a different process. I have been learning that any suffering and anxiety I feel is a chance to dig deep and approach things differently.

I have read this from Deepak Chopra to life coaches on Instagram. My fave IG coaches are Mark Groves @createthelove and Abraham Hicks; both of these accounts help me tremendously. Anxiety, fear, frustrations, and anger can be seen as blessings. We get to learn about ourselves which will only lead to uncovering better versions of who we are. If we don't look we simply don't find. In my case, the knee buckling fear I feel when I don't feel seen/acknowledged/responded to needed to be addressed. It's insane that a text message from a guy, or lack thereof, should determine the course of my day. None of my reactions stem from insecurities; that would make more sense. I am very aware of what I bring to the table. So then why am I like this? I needed to learn and begin to sort out what are old reactions to what is relevant now. They're all pretty much old butterflies that still come swarming at me now. They're not real though, I conjure them up out of habit. And habits can be broken. It was hard to quit sucking my thumb at 15 (!!) but I did it and now have beautiful teeth. Even harder was to change my diet and workout routines, but now I have a body I truly love. It was difficult to start waking up at 5:45 to go to my sunrise yoga class, but that gave me an entirely new life. I have changed much tougher patterns; I can do this. I am stronger than I give myself credit for, another pattern created from being so used to not receiving credit from others.

Women in general have a hard time crediting ourselves. It's seen as selfish and egotistical. In fact, refusing to learn about ourselves is selfish, because we are unconsciously choosing to deprive our loved ones of our best selves. If we really want to give, which we do, we have to be as emotionally healthy as possible. To not do this work because we don't want to admit we aren't perfect; THAT is the egotistical piece. We will be painfully astounded by what we need to realize about ourselves. There's no room for ego in this process, which is a gift. To have true, pure results out of life we need to face rejection, hurt, confusion, and abandonment. Use rejection as a chance to explore why you are feeling rejected in the first place. Understand all the crazy assumptions and scenarios you concoct in order to gain false control over situations. As soon as I started to see all this, I felt stuff begin to melt away. Shedding skin, leaving old crap behind. Yoga, by the way, teaches all of this. All. Which is why I responded so quickly to its teachings. I was ready to become a new Me, I just needed help.

If I examine my life today, I am factually no longer unseen. I am objectively acknowledged. I am actively living out my dreams and pursuing my passions. I am clear on my purpose and path. On paper I have a completely actualized life that I'm proud of. So to tie up my happiness in a text message or phone call from some dude is nuts. I know I'm a Kween, I just need to align my actions with that fact. And since my actions stem from my reactions, then my reactions needed some serious dissection. In science class, we dissect specimens to learn every detail about them. You are your most important specimen. There is no education without dissection, which requires sharp tools. They say stagnation is death because without change there is no life. It's true, the years of my life that were identical and stagnant weren't such happy years for me. It's unnatural to have all remain status quo. We are nature, and nature demands change. To not evolve is to battle all nature asks of us. Which is why it feels so lousy, even if we can't identify it. In yoga we flow. We stay firm yet flexible. We stay strong yet soft. We believe in ourselves but are humbled to learning more. We change shape while reveling in our firm connection to the earth. We pump ourselves full of self love while simultaneously welcoming space for newness.

Man, I love this practice. But to practice takes discipline. It requires physically and emotionally showing up. It's called a practice, even by the masters, because perfection is never achieved. We are always a work in progress. I love the image of the beautiful lotus emerging from the mud. From ugliness comes beauty. From pain comes wonder. And like the antlers on a deer, we can carry a far heavier load than we ever thought possible.  As we poke through our own thoughts we rise majestically. We teethe like babies to create necessary new stages of growth. How lucky are we to begin to know this? To turn pain into progress. Turning hell into healing. We have every tool needed to do this. Don't be afraid. This is a private journey that you don't need to blog about if you don't want to. That's why I'm here. The first step is understanding fear. The second you start that you are immediately braver. And when you claim back your bravery, that's when you line up with yourself.

Deer God, you so deserve to feel like the warrior you are. But first, the training. You weren't created for a mediocre half life. Go get yourself. You'll fall, cry, and bleed along the way, but forgive yourself for tripping (I'm a perfectionist so this part really challenges me). And if someone makes you feel less than worthy, after constructing the voodoo doll, thank them silently for forcing you to face the need for introspection. Let your pain teach you and guide you to a stronger mental plane. It will be the best trip you ever take. I know you can do this because I can, and we are all the same underneath the layers of nonsense we bury ourselves in. This is such a loaded post and I'm not really sure what the perfect closing line should be. Perhaps giving up the idea of perfection is where I leave you... Yeah, that sounds right.

Love, LB

Listen to Can't Buy Me Love by The Beatles

Wearable Art

While I'm a Creative, I don't respond much to art on walls. If I see colored dots or splatter paint I'm like, "yeah, whatever". The one artist who I have a major reaction to is Keith Harring. There is such frenetic movement and life in his work. I marvel at the famous "Crack is Whack" wall every time I'm on the FDR Drive en route to NYC. It never fails to move me. Imagine my delight at finding this Keith Harring button down shirt, in this Israeli boutique I keep mentioning called Plazmalab.

Now this is what's considered wearable art. I paired the shirt with these wide legged dark rinse jeans. The wash of the denim feels vintage industrial to me, and the shirt is a throwback to Keith's peak in the 80's. There are retro undertones to the whole look. I put on chunky black boots to ground the lightness of the shirt into winter. I'd choose a different shoe and lighter denim wash in warmer weather. The hat in a classic style capped things off, bookending the look for colder seasons. If I look super happy in these photos, it's cuz I was. This shirt symbolizes an artist who has provided me with inspiration for many years. His work makes me think and feel, and wearing his art felt meaningful. When fashion and art collide, it gives us the opportunity to turn clothes into messages💌. Even if that message is sent just to yourself, it's gratifying to deepen the superficial. Good clothing should indeed make us feel something. Bonus points for making us think🤔👠🎒👒👢.

Kosher for Passover Walnut Cake

Ingredients:

• 9 tablespoons Passover margarine or butter
• 2/3 cup superfine sugar
• 1 tablespoon vanilla sugar
• 4 organic free-range eggs
• 2/3 cup cake meal
• 2/3 cup potato flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons Passover baking powder
• a pinch of salt
• 3 tablespoons milk or water
• 6-8 tablespoons jam of your choice
• superfine sugar, for dusting
• 3/4 chopped walnuts For decoration

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F and line a 7-inch round cake pan with parchment paper.
2. In a mixing bowl, cream the margarine or butter with the sugars until light and fluffy. Separate the eggs and beat in the yolks only. Sift in the cake meal, potato flour, and baking powder, and fold in carefully. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites with a pinch of salt until soft peaks form. Add a spoonful of the egg white to the cake batter and mix in thoroughly. Now fold in the rest of the eggs whites, taking care not to knock out any air. Spoon the mixture into your prepared pan and bake for 35-40 minutes until risen and golden.
3. After the cake has cooled, slice in half horizontally and spread the bottom half with jam. Replace the top half and sprinkle superfine sugar over the top. Enjoy!

Listen to When I See You Smile by Bad English

Blaga Books

Reading is one of the greatest joys in my life. It always has been. I'm proud to be an avid book lover, as well as grateful. Books have been a deep source of calm, enjoyment, excitement, and emotion for me. When I not entrenched in a book I AM PISSED. I'm agitated, like I can snap a pencil in half. When I love a book, and if I don't love it I put it down, all I want to do is curl up and read. Knowing my story is there for me fills me with an old school richness that technology doesn't provide. I love sharing books, so I bring to you all the books that are impacting me deeply. I don't want to summarize or review them. I want this new blog feature to be based on trust.

Let's try it this way; I give you my recommendations and please let me know how (if) you've connected to the story. I'd love to get dialogues going with you about quality literature. I will be selective and only share titles that have knocked my socks off. Special books that I need you to know about. Let's give Instagram a break😉.

The two books that have left me breathless are "Brida" by Paulo Cohelo and "A Man Called Ove" by Fredrik Backman. Both of these will stay with me forever. I have learned incredible lessons from each of them. They have reaffirmed my belief in the purpose of life. I'm a better person for having read them. I can't wait to hear your comments. I am so excited to share another passion of mine with y'all.   

Happy reading, Library Books📚

Take That, Mariah ! ❄️☃

This title is a nod to those ridiculous paparazzi pics taken of Mariah Carrey, every year in Aspen. There's snow everywhere, temperatures are frigid,everyone is in ski gear, and God bless Mariah; she's in fur stilettos and a child size coat unzipped to show massive cleave. It's "apres ski" before, during, and after ("apres"=after). Who knows if she's actually ever skiing, but no matter. She gets her photo op🙌🏻 ⛷.
   

This look is very chi chi winter glam, perfect for the  "I'll just wait here with cocoa while you dangle from a chair lift and risk plummeting to your death" look. The rickety bench in the sky held together by dental floss has one less tush to support. I actually skied quite a bit as a kid, and liked it. I began to develop a fear of heights as a teen, which is such a shame. I'm working on that, but I do recall at one point thinking it was silly to go up and down a hill all day. I'd rather read.

What I love about this yummy, winter chic look is that it's pulled together but truly effortless, which is what loungewear should be. You can't lounge believably and look like a loser who is trying too hard. It defeats the purpose of trying to sell the "oh, I just threw this on" vibe. This outfit is a statement in its wide scale, yet tailored waist and cropped top. The grey with just a touch of sparkly emerald green is understated with just the right dose of detail. This is a delicious winter brunch outfit. The white faux fur headband from Century 21 is the only needed snow bunny accessory🐰❄️.  It's a bit of 80's Dynasty mixed with modern cool. Joan Collins wouldn't have been caught dead in a sweatsuit, but perhaps the furriness would win me some Baby Boomer points. I draw the line at shoulder pads (for now). I always like a natural looking face, even when my makeup is professionally done. Again, when pulling off the lounge around feel, I really recommend the freshest face possible. Cheeks and lips that were just stung by the cold in a pretty way. Cozy up with someone you love today😊☕️. Save the Gucci stilts on ice for the divas. How lucky are we to be safe and warm inside?

❤️, 🐝🐝Neuwirth 

Sweats Appeal

This was my favorite look of this shoot, since it perfectly sums up my style philosophy. Comfort, cool, urban, glam, new, and vintage, all rolled into one. I love using clothing in unexpected ways. Giving my cute, soft Aviator Nation sweatsuit from my fave athleisure store (still not down with that word) Clementine a shot of chic was a creative exercise. While I'm aware of trends, I don't really follow them. I'm much more comfortable randomly mixing things in an organic, unique way. I loved putting my favorite collared denim button down under the sweatshirt. This gave the look collegiate structure and made it more of an actual outfit. A sweatsuit worn in the typical fashion isn't me. It reminds me of those insane hot dogger neon situations that was the height of cool in my youth. Any "easy" two piece anything feels lazy for me. I get the ease, but I feel stupid like that. Here, I wanted to show how a basic sweatsuit can be transformed into a stylish ensemble, simply by adding a couple of glam touches.

Gold high tops anchor the look, giving urban shine. The aforementioned button down, my fave from J Crew, coming across as anything but preppy. My vintage Lynx vest which you've seen me wear a million times, since it works with almost anything. That's basically it. The best part of this sweatsuit is the fun but not in your face color. I love the soft red with the blue stripes. This pops the Lynx vest, making one hell of an argument for the theory that opposites attract. Forgive this cheesy closing line, but this outfit was definitely a slam dunk😜🏀👟. Always play around with style. There's just no reason to look the same for 70 years and then call it a day. There's no reason to do anything the same for 70 years and call it a day. We are all more interesting than that. What's the most unique outfit you've worn recently? Please message me with a pic if you have. I'd love to see how you combine and mix as well‼️

Love the 🐝

Listen to Cry Baby by Janis Joplin

Viki Jeanne

A few months ago I simply could not get up at 5:45 for my sunrise yoga class (I know, it sounds insane but it's so worth it). I went to another class with a new teacher from Baltimore, who had just arrived fresh from her Thai massage studies in Thailand (redundancy alert). I get very attached and accustomed to my routine, as most of us do, and truthfully when you aren't vibing with a new yoga teacher, it's annoying since the classes are long. This is obviously a lesson in non attachment and flexibility. In being open to new methods and new approaches. It's something we all need to work on, and it only serves us well. For every lousy experience there will be five amazing ones. Well, on this particular day I was introduced to Viki. It was yogi love at first sight. Glowing skin, a calming delivery, a radiance in her eyes, and a deep joy at having just come to our location to teach. What sold me on her was a sentence she said that I will never forget as long as I live. I have called upon it every single day since I first heard it. It was this, "I promise you, you are being taken care of". I have never been spoken to like that before, ever. It was a security I have never had, but I believed her immediately. As I sat grounded to the earth I did feel supported and sustained. Viki said this with such gentle conviction. I was blanketed in safety and love. Such a short phrase that is really all we need to know.

When we feel safe and cared for, we have courage and belief, which lead to pretty much everything. Adults need to hear this just as much as kids do. Think of how many times throughout the day you try to make your kids know they are safe and loved. Who tells this to us? So much adult nonsense comes from fear. If we did ever feel really enveloped and secure, we somehow detach from the root of that as we get older. And things go off the rails in our minds and lives. My orthodox upbringing had really helped me mold so easily to the belief I have in yoga, since faith and belief is built into my wiring. I am deeply grateful for that. I have never questioned God, a higher power, spiritual reincarnation, or the powers of nature. I know I am cared for by the elements because in Judaism we are trained to bless nature all the time. Jewish mysticism is so otherworldly, as is yogic philosophy. It's natural for me to draw from one belief system to the other. Fear is what holds us back from growth and change, for obvious reasons. In that one statement Viki released us from ever needing to rely on fear as a trap. It took my breath away in its truth, and it has allowed me to go forth. Most of my anxieties I previously clung too have melted away. I'm not afraid of change. I know I'll be ok. I have spent holidays and vacations differently than ever before. Forty years of doing something the same way can feel strange to deviate from. Nah, it really doesn't phase me. I feel excited and resilient. What did scare me prior, before I knew I was being taken care of, was living out identical years until I eventually died. That ate at me like crazy. Every change I have made, whether with grace or a measure of trepidation, I owe to my teachers. Sure it was myself too, but they hold my hands from afar. I have started trying to relay this message to my kids more. I don't know if I always did the best job, since I didn't feel safe myself. You can't give what you don't have. But my children seem pretty resilient and steady, which means maybe I've done better than I thought... It's never too early or late to hear these words. My gorgeous Viki, thank you for leaving Baltimore and teaching that class that day at that time. There are no accidents. Meeting you was proof I am indeed being taken care of. I believe you.

Love always, Jess

Grandma's Sweet Cheese Pie

I found this other Bubbie Shirley gem while flipping through my bridal shower recipe collection. It feels good to share as much of her joy of cooking with you as I can. She really was talented in the kitchen. Here's a visual; Shirley was tall, about 5'10, black hair, brown eyes, and very regal and statuesque. I most certainly did not get her height. She loved to write greeting cards in her beautiful script for every occasion. She was excellent at rhyming, something she passed down to many women in the family, myself included. She loved to write her own lyrics to songs and sing them to the crowd at family occasions. I definitely have done that my whole life 🙋🏼. She ended every song or poem with her signature lines,

"Mazal and bracha, gazunt and Hatzlocha, we wish it all for you."

That is Jew speak for blessings, health, and success. We all knew these lines were coming, so the crowd would jokingly sing along in unison. The power of words and music bringing people together never ceases to amaze me. The same holds true for food.  This dessert is perfect for a brunch, dairy meal, and the upcoming holiday of Shavuot.

Oven 350. Mix a cup and a half of graham cracker crumbs with 1 tbsp of cooled, melted butter. Press down firmly and evenly in a greased 10 inch pie plate or springform pan. Bake the crust for ten minutes. Set aside.

Filling: a pound of farmer cheese. 3/4 cup each whole milk and sugar. 1 egg. 1 tsp vanilla. Mix well, pour in crust, and bake 20 minutes. Let cool completely. Whip a cup of sour cream or plain yogurt with a tsp and a half of vanilla. Spread on top of pie. Top that with sliced strawberries, any type of other berry, or drained crushed pineapple. Do not attempt if you are lactose intolerant😂.

Listen to Any Way You Want It by Journey

Vex and the City

 I have entered the world of dating, something I've never done. Having gotten married at 20, the only "dates" I went on were movie/hang out situations with yeshivah boys. Fast forward two decades later, I am dating Men. I am learning that despite age defining a guy as a technical man, he can be just as infantile and emotionally challenged as an adolescent. Truthfully, the boys that really liked me in high school were quite honest about that. Of course I had the required experience of pining after one guy who was consistently an asshole for two years, but I chalk that up to initiation. Most of us go through that. If we like, love, and cater to them enough, they'll come around, right? A big part of me still thinks that. I need to recondition that thinking ASAP. I know that often stems from insecurity with girls, but it's the opposite with me. Miraculously, despite having a list of reasons why I should be an emotional mess, I have always had a very clear sense of self. I have always been confident, secure, and comfortable with who I am. I never went through the "I'm not good enough and I suck" phase. I feel blessed with that, it's a really hard hole to dig yourself out of.  Rather, I think I'm so darn terrific that OF COURSE this male will be falling all over himself to be with me 😂 (note the emoji meant to add a drop of ironic self deprecation, though I mean this).
 

I learned that there is ego in that statement. Not in believing in myself and having acute awareness about my sense of Jess, but ego in that other people's issues have nothing to do with me. In other words, if a dude has unhealthy emotional problems, deep rooted insecurities, erratic behavior patterns, or fear of commitment, then those things live within him and are not in any way tied to me. Assuming that meeting me once or twice, even on fantastic dates, will automatically erase decades of buried emotional shit, is foolish on my part. As I'm figuring this out, I'm realizing that it's not just me knowing what I bring to the table. IT'S JUST THAT I AM SO NORMAL, SO I DO NOT PROCESS WHEN SOMEONE IS NOT. I had to scream that in caps. I naively assume everyone is a balanced, emotionally tapped in, honest person like myself. I keep hearing and seeing more and more that this isn't the case.

I recently was fixed up with this guy and had two of the most phenomenal dates in history. Natural, easy hours of conversation that ran both light and deep. Zero awkwardness. Jokes. Compliments. Hand holding. Intense physical attraction. I really enjoyed myself. I felt adored, seen, and understood, which is what every relationship should feel like. I had good reason to believe this would evolve in the same manner in which it had begun. NOPE. While the dates were wonderful, his in between communication skills were terrible. As in nonexistent. I wouldn't hear from him for long periods of time, which felt so rude and disrespectful. I really took that as a lesson in patience and restraint. I did not reach out on between, hoping to spark conversation, as I've always done in the past. I got to a place of gratitude for the lesson: Jess, not everyone thinks like you. I mediated on being more open minded, and on bringing in all my yoga teachings about having a pliable, open mind and heart, not just a body. I really liked him so I did not want to judge him. But I also knew that a relationship, especially in the beginning, shouldn't feel so frustrating. There was too much anguish too soon. It was ridiculous. I have come way too far to tolerate anything less than what I deserve and yearn for. After going dark the first time, I eventually got this long, seemingly sincere apology about him being overwhelmed with some personal stuff🙄, but that he had such a great time and would love to see me again. I saw humility in that text, so I was gracious, cool, and agreeable to another date. I wanted to believe it was a fluke.

Date 2 was off the charts wonderful, and he was so apologetic again. Um, then he checked out again for the exact same time he did prior (nine days but who's counting?). Date 2 ended with him telling me to reserve a certain weekend so we could go out, after he returned from a family vacation. I waited and waited, dumbfounded that he would repeat the exact same behavior he just apologized for. It made no sense. There was zero follow up about the weekend date. I was beyond agitated and it took over my every thought. I threw out a "hey, how was your trip?" text. What I got back were six pictures of his family on the beach. Er....?

Listen, I am very energetically perceptive. I always have been. I know when someone likes me, is vibing with me, and is physically attracted to me. That part was there. The second part of consistency, maturity, and follow up was not. There were other red flags I chose to roll with, honestly since I really am a very open minded and understanding woman, and I really want a relationship. It sounded like he never had a loving, serious relationship. He said he'd never been in love but I figured he just hadn't met the right person (me). In describing some past relationships, all the women mentioned sounded broken and inept, but yet remained topics of conversation. He's in touch with most of them. Why keep in contact with chicks like this?? They must make him feel masculine and superior. The Hunter, the Hero, the Fixer.

There are other parts to the story that lead me to believe he was vastly insecure. One such detail was that he told the person who fixed us up that he was slightly intimidated by all the cool things I'm doing, blog, DJ, etc.   🚨🚨🚨 Lame Alert‼️ I will not apologize for being a full woman with dreams, goals, and interests. What I'm doing now is just the beginning, so if a man can't handle these initial stages of me writing and playing music , then HE is the one who is broken and lost. Perhaps he collects women like that as some messed up support group. It was all very self destructive: I knew he really liked me but his deep rooted issues destroyed the chance of anything real taking hold. When I feel a pure connection to someone, I roll with it full steam ahead 🚊. I am a healthy girl, so I process connections in a true, healthy manner. Which means the opposite case exists as well; unhealthy people will take that true connection and have no clue where to go with it. I have never examined things in these terms. It is a vexing necessary evil in understanding why men, who I really don't know, can act like such assholes. It has nothing to do with me. I keep hearing "men are the worst" etc. I don't believe that and I can't believe that. I don't want to ever get to the place where my optimism and innocence turns dark and bitter. What I need to learn is that these guys are coming to the restaurant table with years of shit that I can't see after several hours. I have nothing to hide, but that's rare.

Most humans in both genders have massive triggers and complexities that have never been dealt with. I certainly don't want the job of digging through someone else's crap. No thanks. This guy was so extremely inconsistent. He'd have bailed eventually. I think my assured nature threatened him. Age doesn't define a man, clearly. Emotional maturity and sensitivity does. Consistency, reliability, security. Respect. I honestly learned a lot from this.  It makes me feel a little sad that I have to curb my enthusiasm when I know there's a real spark and connection, but I guess that's life. Specifically dating life. I never understood what it meant to protect myself emotionally, but I'm getting educated. It means protecting my heart so I don't watch as it gets run over by someone who doesn't deserve a license. Chemistry and connection are natural, but I need to mix those with logic and caution. Blech. I heard this shit happened, but I never thought it'd happen to me. Nothing more to say but "onward". 

Sour Cream Coffee Cake

This is one of my Bubbie Shirley's famous recipes. For those of you who have been reading the blog from the start, she is the grandmother of applesauce fame. She was a phenomenal cook. There were things she made from scratch that I've never known anyone else to make. Chocolate pudding, gefilte fish, perfect pinwheel cookies. She made these tiny, chocolate chip cookies that looked as if they came from a factory. Every holiday that she and my Pop would visit for, she'd bring the chocolate chip and pinwheel cookies in these vintage tins. One blue, the other yellow. They had a flower motif. Those cookie tins were synonymous with her, and they were all I wanted after she died. No one could find them. However, I did get something really special from her apartment that I use and cherish. A metal bread box that's easily 100 years old. It was from her mother, my GG (great grandmother). It's large but fits perfectly in one of my counters corners.

Having it in my kitchen brings me joy. I am very sentimental, and it's so cool to know that I am another homemaker of a different generation using this heirloom. Bubbie's sour cream cake, with its sheer, delicate coating of sugar on top, was fought over by everyone. Second slivers stolen when no one else saw. There was never one crumb left. I love sharing meaningful recipes with you. Food really is love❤️. Bubbie Shirley, this one is for you🍰.

Ingredients:

1 stick butter or margarine softened

1/2 cup shortening

1 cup sugar

4 eggs yolks and whites separated

1 cup sour cream

3 cups Presto flour sifted.  **Sifting is a must here. This cake has the most delicate texture because of it.

 1 tsp vanilla

Directions:

Beat butter and shortening in a mixer with paddle attachment, gradually add sugar, add egg yolks one at a time mixing after each, add sour cream, slowly fold in the flour, vanilla, and egg whites. EGG WHITES MUST BE BEATEN STIFF PRIOR (eek, sorry for yelling but this is crucial. I want perfection for you!).

Put in a ten inch UN greased tube pan. Add the following crumb mixture on top. OMG, the topping is magic I swear. 1 tbsp shortening, 2 each tbsp flour and sugar. Mix flour and sugar with a fork, add shortening.

Bake at 350 for one hour.

She's so cute. I got this recipe from her own handwritten card at my bridal shower. At the end she wrote "be Tay Avon". This is Hebrew for Bon ap petit 😊. Bubbie Shirley died many years ago, but I still taste her cake in both my mouth and heart 🍰👄❤️. From her kitchen to yours. I'm just the messenger here. 

Leanne Marshall

The Leanne Marshall show was all about love❤️. Held on Valentine's Day, her signature brand of feminine romanticism was the perfect closure to Fashion Week. Let's face it, the fashion industry isn't always the warmest, fuzziest biz, especially in NYC. I love New York but it is indeed a vast concrete jungle. Leanne Marshall reinforced the idea that love is above all else. There are never enough reminders of this. Love was felt immediately upon entrance, as each seat was thoughtfully adorned with a stunning love note containing a rose colored, laser cut, paper tree. It was the most beautiful touch. It was heartwarming that the designer made sure to include such sweet detailing for her audience. I took my card home to my kids, my 8 year old son loved it and put it next to his bed. 

Leanne was the 2008 Project Runway winner, and since then has shown at every Fashion Week. True to her California roots, her entire collection was made from leftover bridal designs and organic cotton. Chunky knitwear, subtle stripes, and oversize jackets wowed in bold, unique color combos. Her signature silk chiffon gowns flowed in vibrant color duos like navy and citron and  turquoise and mustard. Metallic bronze and dusty rose also draped the 40 different models walking her runway. That was the best part; the wide range of models in color, height, and weight. All shapes and sizes were honored. True beauty means inclusion.

The show ended with Leanne's new cutie pie fiancée leaping up from his seat to give her a huge bouquet of red roses. Aw😘😘😘🌹🌹🌹. Loving gestures bookended the entire show. It was a terrific way to conclude the hectic craziness of NYFW.

As for moi, I went with drama. My look centered around my daughter's storm trooper backpack from Target. No joke. I paired that with this marbleized two piece ensemble from Norma Kamali. It's a romper and large scale cargo coat. I just put a turtleneck and tights underneath to winterize it, and I will use any excuse to wear a hood. I felt very futuristic and I loved it. "Mom, did you take my Star Wars backpack without asking me????" was an inevitability I was prepared to face👽. Mazal Tov, Leanne!! Wishing you and Remy a long life full of love, laughter, creativity, and organic materials✌🏼️❤️👰🏼. 

Listen to Parting Glass by Ed Sheeran