Salmon, Grilled Raddichio, and Spiced Onions

Talk about a full, beautiful meal in a matter of minutes! Sometimes it’s fun for me to assemble a total meal concept instead of just making an individual Jesscipe. This healthy, clean meal is light yet substantial. Let’s definitely avoid that too heavy, nauseating, full to capacity feeling, shall we?

Ingredients:

Two salmon fillets

Salt and pepper

Three big cloves of minced garlic

Fresh thyme with the leaves peeled off (hold a sprig of thyme in one hand and slide the leaves off downward with the other).

A large Spanish onion sliced into rounds (Spanish onions are more flavorful than regular ones)

One and a half tsp of smoked sweet paprika (This is important; it’s a different flavor than regular paprika. The Smokey flavor is outrageously delicious and gives wonderful depth)

Three tbsp of balsamic vinegar

Two tsp additional fresh thyme, since you’re peeling it for the fish anyway

Two heads of radicchio, halved and rubbed with olive oil

Two cups of mixed greens lightly drizzled with olive oil and balsamic, to compliment the onions

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400. Salt and pepper the fish. Rub it all over with the minced garlic and drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle a generous amount of the thyme leaves and pat them in with the back of a spoon. Bake or roast the fish 12 to 15 minutes.

While the fish is cooking, heat a grill pan with olive oil. When the grill pan is very hot grill the raddichio halves on each side until there’s black grill marks. This results in both a wilt on the outside but still a crisp, crunchy core. Heat two tbsp olive oil in a large pan. Add the onion slices and sauté. Deglaze with the balsamic vinegar as the pan dries up, adding all the vinegar in stages. Add the smoked paprika and thyme and sauté until the onions develop this amazing caramelization. The smell is incredible.

Plate a piece of salmon over a cup of the lightly dressed greens. Add the raddichio halves on the side. Top the salmon with the glazed onions. Be so proud of yourself; you seriously just rocked the F out of this meal!

Gang Starr- Code of the Streets

Falafel and Stereotypes

Recently I took my 8 year old son to dinner at our favorite falafel joint. One of those small places where the tables are two centimeters apart. Sometimes it’s entertaining to overhear the conversations of your dining neighbors. Other times it’s excruciating. This was one of those times.

The topics discussed amongst the two 60ish couples was straight out of the Jewish, bored, whiny, Oy Vey handbook. I ate my shakshuka to the tune of tales of sciatica. My salad began to taste like money, as I listened to the ups and downs of his salary trajectory. My son’s hot dog and fries was accompanied by the dissatisfaction each of them naturally had with their entrees.

“This can’t possibly be a turkey burger?? Mordy, do you think it’s really turkey??”

My fish tacos (I was ravenous that day) instantly became unappetizing against the backstory of a cousin’s psoriasis. Again, all peppered with them bitching about the food, sending it back, then complaining some more. Sigh; meal ruined. Even my baby was like, “Mom, get us out of here”. It wasn’t just the gross and boring topics being dissected. It was that this couples dinner was so stale, predictable, uninspired, and seemingly not that enjoyable. It seemed like a way to simply pass the time with other likeminded whiners to break up the monotony of routine. Which is totally normal and something we all deal with, but still. It bummed me out, Man. All of us knows how it feels to sit at a dinner table with nothing much to say, be it to our spouse or whoever else is across from us. It blows. It’s like, if I’m supposedly close to this human, WHY DOES TALKING TO THEM FEEL LIKE I’M STICKING A TOOTHPICK IN MY EYEBALL?? Shouldn’t conversation with someone we choose to spend time with (or love) flow naturally like a babbling brook? Being a conversationalist myself, I’m good at it in all scenarios, but it’s loathsome when it’s forced or when I’m the only one doing the talking. Then I resent it and fantasize about being alone. Being divorced adds another dimension for me too, as far as how I envision dinners out with my eventual person. Yes, I’m well aware that many dinners and evenings spent together won’t look like two people who can’t keep their hands off each other, while discussing Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. I’m not unrealistic. However I am an idealist at this stage while manifesting the kind of dynamic I want romantically going forth. I don’t want boredom. I don’t want bitching about the food simply to fill space with words. I don’t want to need other equally uninspired people to keep us company, so we can all fool ourselves into thinking that was an evening well spent.

I know so many couples who maniacally calendar the shit out of their lives. Dinners up the wazoo, locked down in advance to keep busy. To have a reason to put on lipgloss and heels. To be out with their spouses without really interacting with them. Forgive the negativity. I just don’t ever want to run out of things, real things, to say to my Man. I don’t ever want his presence alone to not be enough for me. I always want to hold hands under the table. I want to be so happy at this said meal, just to be next to or across from him (preferably next to), that the food won’t matter that much. No complaining. No talk of money or ailments. No kvetching. I don’t know if this will always be possible. I do think there is the exception where this does exist, and it certainly doesn’t mean a relationship is bad if it doesn’t. Boredom is normal. People get tired. It’s hard to have a roster of dazzling and scintillating topics to discuss on a random Sunday night. It’s what I want though.

I’m setting my bar so high and placing my order for a guy I’m so content just to share a meal with, even if we sit in fully satisfiable silence. He will feel the same, and won’t even notice when I inevitably get food on my face. Anything and everything will be beautifully and equally shared, whether it’s quiet or appetizers. I’ve been starving for this and I’ll send guys back until the right one is brought to me ️.

40 Candles 🎂

 This is the second Sixteen Candles reference I’ve made in the past week. Wearing this style hat makes me think of 80’s teen goddess Molly Ringwald in that film. Any 80’s kid knows what I’m talking about. Those movies were seriously the best. Being a Yeshiva girl where the only requirement for being “fashionable” in high school was a wearing floor length denim parachute, I recall being in awe at the styles in movies about public school kids. Why did they look so cool??? Were they allowed to buy and wear whatever they wanted??? Public school seems to begin at the crack of dawn, so what time did they have to wake up to pull together outfits with such clarity???The best was how if they went out AT NIGHT, a foreign concept to a Yeshivah student who first got home at 5:30, they CHANGED INTO EVEN COOLER OUTFITS. These Brat Packers had lives yo.  Yeah, I know it was a movie but it all seemed representative of an adolescent life that was simply not an option for me. The good news is that I can wear whatever the F I want now. If I want to dress like Molly did, ain’t no one to tell me I can’t.

This bulky red Maje sweater was delicious on a crisp autumn afternoon. There’s nothing better than the right sweater this time of year, when we don’t overheat by having to layer on a coat. The baggy, distressed jeans with the tapered ankle are so 80’s too. Red kicks were an obvious choice. Red was huge during that decade and so was being super matchy. The sneaks are Margiela btw. Topping this off is one of my favorite J Crew hats. A dark gray wider brim number that I love to wear tilted forward or back. Any angle works for this hat. It’s an easy fit that looks fly this time of year. Now if only I had some guy named Jake to yearn after from afar...

De La Soul- Sexy Bitch

Blackbird

 I love this whimsical Marc Jacobs sweater. In general I love birds. I have them strategically placed throughout my house, on jewelry I wear daily, and printed on clothing. I love what they symbolize; freedom, soaring to new heights, lack of fear, and gliding effortlessly through the sky. This pastel parrot looks cool contrasted against the black sweater. I paired it with these athletically striped black jeans to add some sporty detail. The jeans are from Mother and have short, distressed ankles. I liked the Oxford style ankle boots with this in that I felt it gave the look some gravity, as opposed to say, a ballet flat or a plain boot. This look is cute but isn’t thesis worthy:) Jeans, a fitted sweater with a dash of personality, and boots is a staple look as the weather gets colder. I kept my white shades though. No way I’m giving those up yet.

Organize Yourselves

BEFORE

AFTER

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AFTER

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AFTER

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One of the practical keys to a successful life is organization. Not OCD arranging the cans according to height like in the film Sleeping With The Enemy. But keeping ourselves together in order so that we can function in an uncluttered manner. Uncluttered in both physical, mental, and emotional states. Removing excess so we can better see our surroundings, make better choices, and feel less overwhelmed by the billion pieces that make up the human experience. One of my yoga teachers, Tim, often tells us to “organize yourselves”, and by this he means how we organize and arrange our bodies. I’ve never heard another teacher instruct the class to do this, and I fell in love with this directive instantly. Many people think yoga can be lofty, hippie dippy, la la la, and with little focus on concrete and pragmatism. This couldn’t be further from the truth; by respecting and neatly handling the physical body and getting it in order, we are then better prepared to handle and deal with other parts of life in a calmer, less reactive way.

Organizing our lives is essential for remaining clear. We organize and arrange ourselves not to tightly grip reigns of control, but to maintain a gentle composure as we transition through the day. To maintain the integrity of our foundation, as my other teacher, Betsy, says. Organization always makes us feel better in that we feel more streamlined in our approach.

This is why after living in my house for 7 years I was itching to give all my closets a complete restructuring. As much as I’ve made efforts to simplify certain parts of my life, I’ve got lots of stuff. I shop way less but have collected and amassed a lot over the years. This is great when I need to prep for a fashion shoot, but can be a bit of a shit storm when I need to get dressed in the morning. I have stuff, my four kids have stuff; STUFF! I am in innate organizer but it was too big a job for me. Plus, when you live with it you stop seeing it. Also, to sit in my house tearing apart every closet would take weeks and a dedication I just don’t have right now. I’d rather spend my time doing other things. It was clear I needed to outsource.

Enter Jenna from Lumisa, a company that specializes in all things organizational. Having someone be in your home for days on end and see all your shizz, from the ratty underwear you should have thrown out years ago, to outdated toys, to expired pantry goods and NOT JUDGE YOU FOR IT is a big deal. Personality wise it must be the right fit. This person is spelunking into the bowels of your home, and uncovering caves you’ve forgotten existed. Then going to the Container Store and labeling everything.

Jenna is legit a ray of sunshine. She looooves her job and gives her clients her all. It was seriously a joy to see her print out “black thongs” both in English AND Spanish, so my housekeeper could learn the new system. Naturally we became insta pals. My beautiful pantry had become pretty gross over the years and she whipped it into shape. Baskets, lazy Susans, and bins were tastefully transformational. My clothing closets were organized by event and color. I had my own system where I knew where things were, but it wasn’t neat or attractive. My home is beautiful and it did bother me that it’s innards didn’t match up with the exterior.

Jenna kicked my closets’s butts, and totally gave my entire home a fresh feel. Prepping for shoots is so much easier now; she created system upon system so I can keep track of what I own. It gave me a renewed reverence for all I have lovingly selected and collected over the years. She gave order to the archives, which in turn has made my life calmer and easier. I seriously recommend hiring this Organizing Oracle to help you gain control over your life. Enjoy this little peek into the Lady Blaga vault to see how Lumisa can transform your closets. Don’t delay getting your life in order, in any capacity. Arrange yourself and be stronger in all your choices.

I can’t recommend Jenna enough! To contact Jenna email her at jenna.cognetti@gmail.com.

Trail Mix Bark

This was easily my most requested Jesscipe from my last food shoot. It’s funny, the whole instastory thing felt so unnatural to me at first. It took me some time to embrace social media in general. I could not understand why anyone really cared what I was doing at 2:30 pm on a Tuesday, so it felt oddly self aggrandizing to talk about my daily activities. But that’s the biz, and though I don’t love hearing myself recorded (I think I sound like the love child of Barry White and Fran Drescher), I have come to really enjoy sharing through the stories. My favorite stories to film are the food because it’s fun to share ideas and tips. It feels organic to me since I’m actually really doing it anyway. It’s thrilling when I story a new concoction that seems to excite my followers, especially when it’s easy like this bark. If I can help you look like a rock star in the kitchen, no one needs to know that this took minimal effort. Your culinary secrets are safe with me. I promise you’ll knock their socks off with this one. I don’t love white chocolate, but I loved how holiday appropriate it would look here. White, snowy chocolate, woodsy granola, crunchy peanuts, and red dried cherries evoking that beautiful, wholesome holiday color palette. This is great to serve as a dessert after a special meal, or to keep in the freezer and have your overnight guests sneak a snack as they please. 2 AM? Sure, why not! This is also a lovely hostess gift if you’re not traveling far, since the chocolate will get melty after a little while.     

You’ll need:

A baking sheet pan with edges

Wax paper

Six bars of good quality white chocolate. I use Ghirardelli.

Two cups of granola

Half a cup of salted or honey roasted peanuts.

Half a cup of dried cherries or craisins.

3/4 cup of mini chocolate chips.

Directions:

Spray the baking sheet well with non stick spray. Press wax paper or parchment paper down firmly on top. Tape the edges if needed. Don’t spray the top of the paper. Set aside.

Melt the chocolate on top of a double boiler until smooth. Let cool slightly then pour on the baking sheet and spread around evenly with a sprayed spatula. Mix all components of topping together in a bowl and scatter evenly over the melted chocolate, pressing down gently.

Place sheet in the freezer for a couple hours. After it’s totally frozen break the bark into pieces of different sizes and put back in the freezer in an airtight container until ready to serve. I love the contrast of the white chocolate served on a dark platter. Play around with different chocolates and toppings. You can even serve a couple choices or an assortment. Have fun with this one! 

Leather Shorts

 This was the best post title I could think of, because is there really anything more to say? “Leather Shorts” are most def a show stopper, even in words alone. I was talked into buying these babies ten years ago, when my fashion choices were way safer. I didn’t have nearly as much confidence or bravado at that time, for several reasons I won’t delve into right now. I talk about that mostly in my Inspire section posts, so feel free to hop on over there and get to know that side of me too. I laughed nervously when the pushy saleswoman tried to get me to purchase what looked to me like a leather diaper. I didn’t like my butt or legs at that time either, so the whole concert seemed insane and age in appropriate. Btw, I was 30. If that’s an indication as to the warped view that I had of myself as an “old, washed up Mom in an orthodox neighborhood”, then there you go. So sad, but it’s over so it’s really fine. We can only improve coming from places that need improvement.

Ok, so she talked me into the shorts. I thought they’d be one of those items I wore once max, or perhaps one of those indulgent purchases that never actually leave the closet and make it onto your body. I must say that these Haute Hippie shorts are hands down the coolest item in my pretty darn cool closet. I wear them a ton, and they’re always a showstopper. I have gotten tremendous use out of them, and now that I truly do like my butt and legs thanks to yoga, I rock them proudly at 40🏻.

For this look I contrasted the lil sexy shorts with an oversized chunky turtleneck sweater. I love things that are large scale, and this sweater is another fave. It was instant comfort and ease literally just thrown on with the shorts. Sexy and comfortable is always the goal. With or without tights, the high heeled Brian Atwood boots give the right amount of height and edge, and are very comfortable as far as high heeled boots are concerned. I am not a heels gal at all, so you can trust me if I tell you these were good to my feet. This new hat from Urban Outfitters is a new purchase that I’m loving this Fall! It’s the perfect scale of width and flop. It fits great on my head with no fussing. The round Prada glasses are old and look great every time. This look has a very retro Bridget Bardot feel. I saw Bohemian Rhapsody last week with my son. It was outstanding, and I was inspired to dress with a nod to that incredible time period where rock and roll was at its best, and mostly coming from England. The fashion at that time is my favorite era. I’m guessing Freddy Mercury would have dug a cool pair of leather shorts. Or even had it actually been a leather diaper.

Talib Kweli- Broken Glass

Whole Wheat Yogurt Pear Muffins

Whoa, that’s a mouthful of a title, but these muffins are mouthfuls of yum. I enjoy substituting pears for many recipes that call for apples. Autumn is the perfect time to play with pears. There are so many ripe, delicious varieties. These muffins are easy to make, and are perfect for breakfast, brunch, or a non terrible snack. They’re little, unlike many gargantuan store bought muffins that are let’s be real, akin to eating half a cake. One of these is truly harmless. The yogurt keeps them moist in a beneficial way, as opposed to using more oil. Swapping out some white flour for whole wheat lends a hearty flavor and cleaner composition. I usually find making muffins a bit annoying; the scooping and scraping of the dough at least a dozen times. But this didn’t feel that way to me. I kept the measurement at a dozen and the batter slid effortlessly into the muffin tin. If only the muffins didn’t slide so easily into my mouth. Yeah, you saw that coming, it’s fine.

Ingredients:

Batter-

3/4 cup lightly packed grown sugar

1/4 cup canola oil

1 egg

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2/3 cup whole wheat flour

2/3 cup all purpose flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup non fat yogurt

2 pears

Topping-

1 TBS oil

2 TBS brown sugar

2 TBS whole wheat flour

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

Directions:

Mix topping ingredients and set aside. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line the muffin tin with liners or spray with cooking spray. You can bake with the liners then remove before serving, since paper liners can look tacky. In a large bowl combine the brown sugar, oil, egg and vanilla. Mix well.

In another bowl combine the other dry ingredients. Add to the egg mixture with the yogurt. Just stir together. Over mixing will result in dense muffins. We want these babies light! Stir in the chopped pears. Fill each space two thirds full, then sprinkle a little topping on each.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes until golden brown and the muffins spring up when touched. Yields 12. Freeze in an airtight container for up to two months.

That’s My Crew

For those of you who often read my style posts, you know what a longtime fan of J Crew I am. Whether I’m wearing their pieces as a layering building block or featuring one that’s a whimsical print, this brand never disappoints. Like ever. Since childhood. It’s so common that our tastes evolve and change over the decades of our lives. We all have tons of photos that should be captioned “what was I thinking????” Sweater sets and me are not friends. Voluminous poet sleeves? Eek. Heinous trends we were once obsessed with that morphed into embarrassing lapses in judgement🤦🏼‍♀️. It’s cool; it’s so important to be able to laugh at ourselves and refine our style over time.

Personally, I’m wary of peeps who have dressed the same since infancy. How much have you changed and grown if your wardrobe hasn’t changed even a little?? This is why I love J Crew. Their look is constantly evolving and flowing with the changing needs of the customer. The more pragmatic, preppy designs from my youth became the butterfly printed silk button down of my adulthood. Burgundy pocket t shirts grew into a burgundy pleated leather skirt, one of my prized items in my entire closet. My best hats came from J Crew. Sunglasses, gauzy beach wear, and vibrant color blocking are some of my favorite concepts from the company. My all time fave would have to be my impressive collection of button down shirts. From masculine oxfords to silky, feminine styles that drape my femininity, my J Crew shirts literally carry every outfit. I’ve asked a lot of them over the years, mixing them up in a million different looks. They fit incredibly and are classy and sexy at all times. Yes, I’ve given some J Crew away over the years. The solid pencil skirts aren’t me, and neither were the boxy floral dresses that made me feel like Jackie O for five minutes. I never loved their leopard prints or sequined pieces. But there has never been a time in my fashion history that hasn’t included this brand. Here are some of my favorite J Crew looks from the Lady Blaga archives. Which do you like best? Any suggestions for more ways I can mix it up that might help you put together an outfit? I love acting as a stylist, so if there’s a certain concept you could use ideas for, I would love the challenge of coming up with inspirational combos for y’all. Can the J in J Crew stand for Jessica?

Autumn Pear Salad 🍐

This wonderful seasonal salad is crisp, colorful, nutty, and fresh. I truly love creating new and interesting salads that “feed” off of the current season. The butternut squash here gives a fullness and gravity, while the pears keep it refreshing. The craisins and candied pecans further add dimension, sweetness, and warmth, while the thin slivers of red onion balance that out with their savory taste. What I really love is the dressing I made up. I like using a coordinating juice as a base, so I used pear juice here. The result was a lovely pear vinaigrette. It’s a cute, creative way to keep consistency. For instance, a classic lemony vinaigrette wouldn’t make sense, in that it would compete with and overpower the sweet elements. If you have a well stocked kitchen, you probably even have all of this on hand. If not, try to improvise with whatever fresh ingredients you do have (Unless you only have condiments. Do not make a ketchup salad. Go shopping🥗). 

Ingredients;

Six cups of spring mix lettuce. Romaine, butter, or red leaf would work too.

A cup of candied pecans.

Two cups of diced butternut squash.

A generous handful of craisins, two firm but sweet pears diced, any kind that isn’t mushy on the inside; the pears are needed for a fresh crispness.

A small red onion sliced into thin slivers.

Directions:

The only thing needed to be done in advance is that the butternut squash needs to be roasted in the oven on 400 until fork tender, about 25 minutes. Cool the squash at least partially before adding it in. It’s ok if it’s a bit warm. Mix all ingredients in a large bowl. I like a lot of mixing room so I always do it in one of those giant aluminum tins.

Dressing:

A quarter cup of lemon juice

A quarter cup of olive oil

Half a cup of pear juice

Half tsp salt, quarter tsp pepper

2 tbsp champagne vinegar

Whisk all very well. Add the dressing to the salad starting with a third cup. You may not need more. The goal is a lightly dressed salad. No dousing or drowning. Add more as needed, saving rest for future. You could even use the extra as a marinade for chicken or fish. This is a fantastic dinner when it follows a soup.

Listen to Method Man- Bring the Pain

Tears for Fears

I have been going deeper within lately. This has been brought on by certain situations that dropped me off at a fork in the road in the middle on nowhere. Sometimes we have no choice but to Google Maps ourselves before going forth. This is one of those times for me, and I have felt truly grateful for the painful circumstances; they are here to teach me much needed lessons. Truthfully, I know nothing in my life will continue to change without me putting myself under this microscope. As we know, pain is much needed information. And as much as I’ve learned about myself, and however far I’ve come over the past couple years, I underestimated what keeps holding me back from further growth. This is all extremely humbling in that it makes me feel like a bit of a fraud. Who am I to advise anyone on anything?? I’m so blessed to have this wonderful platform on which to share, encourage, and support my readers. One of the most valuable pieces of feedback I consistently get is how encouraging, positive, and strong I am. During this time of deep self study, I realized I have been identifying with gripping, all consuming fear my entire life. I thought I was rid of it, but that’s not so at all. While I may have appeared brave to myself and to you, I haven’t been as honest as I needed to be. When we make certain outward changes, it can delude us into believing we have really turned around. Our lives are different so we must be different too, right? But putting on a blue shirt after years of wearing a green one doesn’t change the body underneath. Spanx are smoke and mirrors, when they come off your thighs are the same. Perhaps symbolically, I don’t wear Spanx. I hate them. They have always made me feel worse. The compression just reminds me that there’s something to compress, and I’m hyper conscious of being suffocated by what needs to be covered up. Spanx have never made me feel thinner or sexier. I feel way happier with my body just doing its natural thing. Underwear lines and a jiggly Mom tush are fine.

I am choosing to read into the metaphor of this; I am overall upfront and don’t intentionally hide anything. Hiding stuff doesn’t work since it just really means there are things that need to be locked away. Things you are scared to acknowledge or reveal. You don’t need me to tell you that those things will fester and bust out anyway, bigger and stronger after having been left alone to develop. The size of fear, anger, resentment, shame etc will multiply if not dealt with, just like the size of your ass will if you ignore that too. In my yoga anatomy book, it says that a muscle develops tone in response to however much resistance it faces. The more resistance and pressure, the more tone is achieved. Meaning, if we run from the hard stuff, it doesn’t really protect us; it just makes us weaker. Only in non avoidance and welcoming resistance can we tone and strengthen ourselves. Without toned muscles, our  body is weak. And a weak body cannot react and respond to pretty much anything. So too, a laden down heart and mind that doesn’t work itself out cannot respond properly either. All that we are made of, body, mind, and heart must first face resistance in order to then strengthen and be of service of us. Only then can we be of service to others (the point to life).

My book also talks about how if a muscle is weak or tight it will compromise and injure itself. I love this because it doesn’t just focus on typical strength. Strength is just one component. The tightness and lack of flexibility are just as, if not more so, crucial. When we are rigid we are a mess, plain and simple. Constrictions leads to blockages. Something that by nature should be flowing freely, can’t. A closed mind, a closed heart, a closed soul will lead to a very unhappy life. Rigid yet strong muscles might land you at the weight rack in the gym, but without intense stretching and opening, the body only comes so far. I did not know this during my former years as a gym rat. I had such a short sighted, arrogant approach to working out, which represented a short sighted, arrogant approach to life. Closeness is no bueno in any capacity. Yoga opens every single part of us. It’s why I love it; I was so ready to be opened up but I didn’t know how to do it alone. The goal is supple flexibility all over. The heart openers are my favorite, since really we are just waiting to love, beginning with ourselves. My teacher and friend Allison instructs is to “crack open your heart” during certain poses; is there a more beautiful directive out there?

Ok, so I love Love. I can’t say that that’s been the root of all the pain I have stored up over the years. It’s the other big one; Fear. It’s been this monster under the bed that I have been conditioned to become accustomed to, and have learned to distract myself from. By exercising, reading, texting, writing, DJing, socializing, hugging my kids, listening to music, or whatever, I have always found wonderful, healthy ways to find happiness. Coping mechanisms help us get through the day superficially. They don’t clean up issues though. They just redirect your attention. So when the hugs are over, the book is finished, the music has stopped, the text doesn’t come,  then we then keep searching for more means of distraction in order to get the next fix to avoid facing what’s eating at us under the surface of Happy Happy Joy Joy (that’s a Sponge Bob reference. Deal with it). It is in the space of utter silence that we do the most growing and learning. Which is why we live in such a challenging time, with all the noisy devices that we let control our lives. Even those not on social media are constantly checking texts and emails. There is never enough quiet. I have observed my fear of silence as I’ve gone through phases of being able or unable to turn off my phone before Shabbat. I always loved that element, then I dreaded it. I was filled with anxiety for several years at not being able to let my device distract me. I was petrified to put away my phone. This is common and unhealthy. Religiously I don’t think a phone is a big deal (blasphemy!). For me it’s a level of awareness directly related to being able to unplug and unclog, and be fully comfortable in the Is of quiet family lockdown. I have come back to this place recently, and this past Friday I couldn’t wait to shut my phone off. My brain needed a break. My feelings tied to my thoughts needed a break. Our devices fill our heads with so many excess thoughts, be it a silly thought about a cat on roller skates or a time sensitive email that must be answered. Checking the news, the weather, Facebook, whether that person texted you back, the carpool schedule, which photos to scroll through; THOUGHTS. If my goal through all I’m learning is to quiet and lessen my thoughts, then my attachment to my phone is a major detriment. In order to quiet my mind, I have to quiet my device. So, so hard, but as said above, the hard stuff is what improves us.

As I have been studying and observing my thoughts and feelings more, in order to separate myself from them, I have to uncover their root. I have found that whatever triggers set me off, and we all have them, are across the board born of intense fear. “I am feeling this way because of x”. In literally talking this out with myself, I fairly quickly was able to pin every excess thought and feeling pattern to fear of abandonment, fear of not being enough, of being unseen, and unimportant. I recently read that kids who don’t feel wanted grow up to become adults who settle for being needed. So we work really hard at proving our worth by constant doing. When someone wants you, it optimally means they’re choosing you just because they adore you. If you’re being chosen based on need, well, that’s conditional. “I need you because of what you provide for me”. Those of us who strive to be needed know this. Our proactive nature can stem from trying to prove our value. This is really very sad. It’s hard to look at yourself like this, but harder to not. Only in this self study can we clean this up. Which is why our triggers are a gift. They expose us to ourselves on a raw, private level. But we need to listen with commitment. We can only do this in silence, which is why meditation leads us to the truth. As leading spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle says, sit in silence and welcome it, for it is only in those quiet spaces that we grow. Which is why yoga teaches to honor the pause. To bask in the Is that is always now. So in my pauses my instinctive fear monsters rise up out of nowhere, as if Freddy Kruger was your uber driver. I am now watching these fearful thoughts, then telling myself I am not my thoughts or my feelings. I am neutral by nature. My natural born state is neutrality since God made me whole and complete. I came into this world lacking nothing. We get scared when we feel holes within and can’t fill them. But here’s the thing; the holes aren’t real. Our mind loves to play tricks on us and so it invented these holes over time. When we are under the illusion of lack we make up for that by collecting painful, egoic, scary stories. And then we further feed the ego by giving it what it wants; to win in screwing us up. Over time we build up a pain body that is filled with insert lousy emotion/thought here. My pain body is fear. My stomach lurches at certain thoughts (sup, ulcerative colitis), I’m terrified of outcomes that I can’t predict or control, and petrified of these hypothetical scenarios that stampede through my mind. Shifting the awareness back to peaceful, complete, neutral consciousness behind the neuro-reactive process, is a move towards re-patterning. Before I can rid myself of this fear based pain body, I need to accept that it’s there. Marinate in it. Let it slowly move through me. This isn’t a rushed process. After all, it takes many years to create this scary baby; I’m not losing that weight overnight. A crash diet in emotional expulsion won’t last. What counteracts feeling afraid is feeling safe. And I know I’m safe within myself. I require no other person for this.

Turning inward feels so good because we really are all we need. Mooji instructs is to not follow our thoughts, as temptations to do so flare (and always will). Let them go. Let the feelings go. What remains is the pure, conscious Self. Unbury that. Fight to keep it unblemished. It is a constant practice. I love when Mooji writes how in order to become everything we must first become nothing. We must empty out all we’ve been storing and collecting. Stop collecting and stop doing. It’s unloading baggage before continuing to travel. Getting rid of dead weight. My sunrise yoga teacher recently taught us something that changed my practice the instant I heard it. It was about jumping from down dog to a forward fold. I struggled with this for a long time, and now I know why. I was holding onto what kept me heavy. She said to fully empty out our lungs before jumping up; the lighter we are the easier we will sail forward. It was so brilliant I wanted to cry. An astounding adjustment in every area of life. Mind blown. Betsy is right; this totally works. As soon as I fully and truly exhaled, I flew forward and landed lightly and gracefully. Quietly and naturally. No more thumping. There was a new ease and softness to the movement. The key to moving on is releasing that which holds us back. And I’ve gotta tell you, I’m done holding onto these fearful beliefs and neurological reactions. It’s just enough. Since I’m no longer identifying with all that fear, what do I need it for?? It’s time for it to go and be that neutral, connected extension of Source that I was created to be. That is who we are, and so coming home to that is so right. Why would anyone choose an emotionally turbulent life over feeling yummy and secure inside their honeyed Self?

I read something so profound recently, from the yogi Meghan Currie. She herself had heard it somewhere and passed it along to her spiritual community. Think of the inhale as God coming towards you. Pause and savor that. Then think of the exhale as you coming towards God. Pause and savor that too. Then repeat that until you no longer breathe in this body. Seeing myself as a vehicle that literally just pumps divine awareness in and out of it was a knee buckling concept. In times of anxiety I put this teaching into practice and it’s instantly soothing. Yes, we are people. We will react as people do; with fright, rage, depression, erratic behavior, selfishness, etc. But there’s a way out. And that way out is the very way in.  You can never go deep enough into yourself. The more we venture inward, the more we discover the peace and calm that is already waiting for us. Like the mother rabbit in The Runaway  Bunny, my favorite children’s book. She knows, she waits, she welcomes her child with no judgement, she shape shifts with him. She’s eternally there, ever so loving and assuring of safety and security. That’s You. The more I tap into this, the more fear is released from its holding cells in my body. Space is cleared and vibration is raised. So much work is accomplished just by becoming one with our consciousness. It’s truly curing. Let your fear, or whatever else ails you and holds you back, cure you. Honor whatever trauma was the root of your current reactivity. It’s ok. It’s over. It no longer applies. Let it pass through you. Empty out and soar forward. Then  put yourself in neutral and go further then you ever thought possible. I used to be so scared of not knowing where I was going... I’ll get there. The objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.

Keep the Change

I have been thinking a lot lately about the difference between feeling someone changed your life, and knowing that someone caused YOU to change your own life. One sentiment is passive while the other is active. The former denotes we were taking a nap while Prince Charming kissed us awake, thereby resurrecting us while we were unconscious. The latter hints at being receptive to the positive vibrations of those around us, and raising our own to match them. Basically, these peeps inspire us to up our game.

How wonderful to look at someone in your life and know so clearly how you have become better just by having them in your orbit. I have never really subscribed to the “different friends serve different purposes” belief. I’m not interested in pieces of people, certainly not so they can benefit me. That’s not how I see friendship. All of my friends are magnificent, complete human beings. I rely on them not for fragments but for all the good stuff; love, support, humor, sounding boards, company, wing people, advice, etc. However, I do know the ways in which they each make me better. It’s interesting to see with whom I am my wittiest. When I hang with certain people I am on fire in the wit department. I feel the need to start writing my own one woman show immediately, complete with original music and lyrical compositions. Choreography! Costume changes! You get the idea.

I know who influences me to be a better mother, perhaps more patient and less reactive. I know who brings out my best culinary abilities, who encourages my ideas to skyrocket out of my head, who I have the most fun with, with whom I have the deepest, most honest talks. I’m so grateful to the women who have inspired me to be softer and more generous. For my male friends who hang with me like I’m one of the guys, yet will delve with me just as deeply as my closest female friends. The male perspective is often different, so I greatly appreciate their insight. Some of the conversations I routinely have with my guy friends are seriously for the books. From the raucous gut busting laughs to the philosophical and psychological (I’m not friends with idiots). I know which friends, in making music their life’s purpose, have taught me how to make it mine as well. My creative urges are most understood by them. Appreciated by all, but they get it with no explanation. I know exactly who causes me to sharpen my writing. To my friends and mentors in the spiritual community; there are no words. I have one friend who gives me tough love when I need to just hear it hard and straight. She knows who she is. She’s the only person in my life who would/could handle me like that. It takes a village, and I adore my villagers for all they have led me to become. I don’t want anyone to do the work for me. I want to grow and evolve on my own. But when we find those who water our process, we must hold onto them, water them back, and pay that inspiration forward. And always, always tell them how they contribute to your life. Use no restraint when it comes to gratitude. It feels so good for both parties to have that conversation. And to my readers, I may not know all of you personally but you water me too. You give me incentive to grow as a writer, a thinker, and a sharer. So thank you very, very much.

Cardigan Slip combo

For this cardigan look, the sweater serves as a blazer. A softer, more relaxed version. This is def a going out look. The Rag and Bone leather pants are a major staple in my closet. They were a splurge, but so worth it. They're incredibly versatile. You'll be seeing them a lot.

I found this ancient off white silk slip, that I remember was an underlay for an old dress. I think that dress involved eyelet and a sash (can you imagine me in that?? I guess I hadn't yet found myself). I'm glad I kept the slip. It's not that transparent so I can get away with using it as a dress or a top. Girls, always keep that stuff. Anything too see through or flimsy can always be used as a nightgown, on a non bleach stained boxer night😜.

I "slipped" this on and belted it with an edgy studded black belt. Black leather zipper heels which you've seen me wear many times. I am so uncomfortable in most heels. These are very wearable, despite the dominatrix effect. Lol, even those gals still need to buy milk and toilet paper🚽.

Lastly, the cardigan thrown over softens all the edges of the overall look, bringing a great mix of sass and "silky smooth". Thank you, Zohan!  Leather, hardware, silk, black, white, and a little unexpected preppie vibe from the cardigan makes a cool combo. If your slip truly isn't see through, ditch the pants and just use this look as a dress based idea. Everything else can stay the same. When the sweater comes off, it's still all perfection. Smoky eye, nude lip, loose hair. Just keep this ensemble for nighttime. This is trying way too hard during daylight hours. However, if you're killing it, hopefully after your big night out, you'll still be awake to catch some daylight creeping in. If you're too tired to even find those aforementioned bleach stained boxers, just ditch everything else and sleep in the slip. Hope you have fun, lemme know where to meet ya‼️

Fastest Flat Bread Pizzas EVER

This Jesscipe was created to feed the hordes of kids pouring in and out of my house over this last round of holidays. Sabbath and the holidays, in my humble opinion, are the nicest parts to observant Judaism. I love watching my children truly interact with their friends without the awful temptations of electronic devices. They play sports, board games, and just sit around and talk. I love being one of the neighborhood homes that acts as a common meeting space for all my kids  friends. Always happy to feed their various crews! It takes efficiency when I need to pump large quantities, and this joke of a recipe does the deed well.

A variety of flat bread pizzas broiled for a couple minutes each. Slice and serve. I used whole wheat lavash bread, but any Lafah style or even pita breads cut in half will do. I made classic, white, and pesto mozzarella pizzas. Each one cut into about four pieces and I served them in squares in a checkerboard pattern on a large rectangular platter. My adult friends loved this too. Everyone just grabbed a slice and ate. So easy and impressive.

Ingredients:

A pack of lavash bread; the one I used came with five or six large pieces.

Tomato or marinara sauce.

Pesto.

Shredded mozzarella, and shredded cheddar cheeses.

Directions:

Preheat the broiler in your oven, adjusting the top rack so that it’s on top but not in the broiler’s face. Close but not too close. Lightly oil a large aluminum pan. Take one lavash and top with tomato sauce and shredded cheddar, another topped only with shredded mozzarella for the white pizza, and the third with pesto and mozzarella. When you do this, leave a one and a half inch border of bread.

Place the pizzas in the pan, you’ll probably need to do this one at a time, and drizzle with olive oil. Feel free to add your favorite sautéed veggie to any of the pizzas. Broil each pizza for just several minutes, checking after 3 minutes and keeping watch so they don’t burn. It’s ok if the edges get dark. It’s kinda unavoidable. When the cheese is golden brown and bubbly then peace out the oven. Let cool slightly and slice with a round pizza cutter, one of the funnest kitchen tools everFresh homemade pizza in mere minutes? That’s amore️️!

Savory Farro Salad

This is not unlike a Farro Salad I posted awhile back. That one had spinach, roasted tomatoes, and toasted pine nuts. This one keeps the Farro as a base and uses tangy, briny vegetables and olives to jazz it up. The amazing secret to this recipe is that when I drain the sundried tomato jar, I reserve the wonderful flavored oil and use that in my dressing. It’s built in intense flavor. Genius, right? That oil is like colostrum, it’s liquid gold. This salad is great prepared a day in advance and is always a huge hit as both a side or vegan main. Top with tofu for a complete meal.

Ingredients:

A bag of Farro cooked al dente according to package directions. For added flavor, I cook the Farro in boxed vegetable broth. Drain, rinse with cold water to stop the cooking process. You want grains with bite that separate.

A jar of marinated sundried tomatoes, with oil reserved and tomatoes julienned as best as you can. I slice mine into skinny thirds.

Two jars of marinated artichoke hearts, artichokes cut in half length wise.

A jar of black pitted kalamata olives halved lengthwise.

A packed cup to a cup and a half of chopped parsley. I actually forgot to do this when I photographed this recipe for the shoot, but I intended to add a bunch of finely chopped scallions. I recommend that as a nice fresh counter to the jarred vegetables. Always a balance, my Loves.

Dressing: half a cup of the sundried oil, half a cup of fresh lemon juice, one tsp salt, half a tsp pepper. That’s all you need since the oil does all the work.

Directions:

Whisk well and pour a third on the warm Farro so it can absorb it alone. Let that sit a bit if you can before adding rest of dressing and the chopped veggies. Mix in the fresh parsley right before serving for maximum flavor and greenery. If making in advance, store each veg separately in their own container, with the remainder of the dressing in its own container too. Bring all to room temp, mix, and serve.

You’re Hitting Yourself

Recently it was Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. The crux of the prayer service is when we list our sins in great detail, literally hitting our heart each time a new sin is uttered. I realized for the first time that this might just be considered insane behavior. As I watched hundreds of congregants strike the upper left sides of their chests in unison, I felt like I was watching a movie. A satire of The Crucible. This custom, in which I had taken part for 33 years or so, suddenly looked unbelievably aggressive and harsh. Why is self inflicted violence, even if it’s just symbolic, necessary to communicate with God? It’s so punishing and cruel. We would never teach the community to hit others; Judaism is a non violent religion. So why get nasty on our own bodies? It’s such an expression of misguided piety, and I’m not doing it again.

I wasn’t thrilled with listing all the ways in which I’m a terrible person, but it’s no real sweat off my back to mindlessly read those words. I communicate with God every single day, throughout the day, so I didn’t feel that dialogue would be affected, though I inherently disagree with the content. I picked my battles. Does no one else question the lunacy of this?? At one point I did punch myself out of habit. When I realized, I gently rubbed my heart to atone for hurting it. I love my heart. I want to treat it with care. It gives me my superpower to love. I work every day to keep it open, which is a practice that is medicinal. Our hearts hurt, they break, they close, and yet still they keep us alive. They beat in service of us at all times. I want to treat it like glass, with compassion. I know it’s supposed to be symbolic, and that’s what disturbed me even more. I don’t want to punish myself like that. It’s mean and cold. I don’t ever want to send the message to any part of myself that I am deserving of lashings of any kind. No one in that synagogue deserves to be whipped (well, a few might). We make mistakes because we are human, but that doesn’t warrant corporal punishment. It’s such a fear based practice; we are scared NOT to do, it lest it appear as if we aren’t sorry. And if we aren’t sorry then we might instantly get struck by lightening when the ark is open. The whole idea of being inscribed in the Book of Life or the Book of Death is terrifyingly manipulative. The concept incites such fear. We clean up our act, starve ourselves, and suddenly attend services to save ourselves and our loved ones. This paints such a scary picture, of God weighing each person’s fate. I’ve said this before; this feels to me like we are really underestimated God. He loves us. He forgives us constantly, not just on one fateful day. We can better ourselves at any moment, and He designed us that way. He doesn’t want to kill off half the community with one swoop. Unless bad breath is that bad of an offense...

Look, I’m not trying to change the service. Not only is it not possible, but I don’t let it affect me. I opine on it, but I still go pretty often and pray how I like. To each their own.  I just kinda wish these sacred practices originated from a place of love and safety, not fire and brimstone. I can tell you with certainty that a true closeness to God and spiritual (not observant) devotion is so much fuller when it’s born of warmth, and practiced without fear of getting whipped somehow. That’s when it becomes conditional, “I’m doing this or that on the condition that I won’t get hit by a bus when I exit this building”. No relationship is pure when it is built on conditions. If we strive for unconditional human love, then how beautiful would it be to feel secure in that with your Maker?

The whole hitting thing is filed away as something I do not want my children to learn. It’s the opposite of self love. I don’t like the message. My challenge as a mother will be to teach them to contemplate this stuff on their own, despite being taught it in school. Don’t smack yourself out of habit. Don’t assume you are always deserving of punishment. Assume you are to be treated lovingly, and let kindness guide you️