Goldfinger

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Bond Girl reference noted. Ok, so this outfit is my Rio Carnivale look. Why I feel I need such a look, being a sabbath observer from Bergen County, is another story entirely. But it definitely conjures up Charro shaking her maracas, shimmying around.  I bought this liquid gold ensemble when I was waist deep in my Norma Kamali phase. I happen to love the lame’ metallic look, and the stretch in the pants are flattering and forgiving. This teeny off the shoulder crop top felt like a risk, but if there’s anything that justifiably holds us back in life, it should not be clothing. People put waaaaayyyy too much thought into what they can’t/shouldn’t wear. “What will people think?”, “I cant pull that off”. Ya know, insecure thoughts like that. True, clothing reflects personality, and thank God we aren’t all the same. But there was something liberating about graduating from the “that’s not age/socially/religiously appropriate” mentality that I too used to have, to the F It attitude that serves us all better.

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I’ve gotten a lot of use out of these pants as a separate. There are matching long gloves that I adore too. Gold is so flattering. It has a goddess like quality to it that’s bold but so feminine. It feels and looks regal. It definitely celebrates being a strong, shimmering woman. This striped blazer was a great purchase from Century 21 last year before Fall Fashion Week. It’s Sonia Rykiel, one of my favorite designers. Finding a gem at Century is so gratifying. That place doesn’t overwhelm me; rather I like the challenge of emerging victorious when I find the golden ticket. You’ve gotta focus at stores like that, and focus is good. It temporarily eliminates excess crap floating around in our minds. If shopping can do that for you, great. Even if you’re a conservative dresser, I really recommend including some well placed shine in your wardrobe. It adds so much. A purse, a shoe, a statement cuff, even a pocket square tucked into a tailored, navy blazer would look killer. Do something today, anything, that makes you want to give yourself a gold star ⭐️. There is no one who didn’t feel like a lottery winner when our teachers used to reward and acknowledge our achievements. Most of us are no longer in school, so it’s up to us to reward and acknowledge ourselves. Shine on, Peeps

Orange Zinfandel Cornish Hens

Perfect for a holiday or any special occasion! I usually make this on the first night of Rosh Hashana. It’s nice to incorporate sweetness into the food on that holiday since we are blessing each other with the hope of having a sweet New Year. Duck and regular chicken parts work well here too. This dish is easy but impressive. My guests always appreciate the extra thought that went into jazzing up plain old chicken. That feeling alone sets the mood for a festive occasion; time, attention, effort, and love.

Ingredients:

Four Cornish hens, or one per person (I always get extra; I never get one per person but most normal people do). Feel free to double the marinade out the gate, in case you need more and want to have it ready.

One cup red Zinfandel or other hearty red wine.

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One cup fresh orange juice.

A third of a cup of chopped shallots.

1 tbsp fresh rosemary chopped.

1 tbsp fresh sage finely chopped.

Zest of one orange

Three cups homemade chicken stock.

Half a teaspoon cornstarch dissolved in 1 tbsp water.

Three tbsp margarine.

Directions:

In a bowl, whisk the wine, juice, shallots, herbs, and zest. Pour a cup of this mixture into a baking dish.  Whisk in oil to make a marinade. Cover and refrigerate the remaining wine mixture. Place hens or chicken parts in the baking dish, turning to coat in the marinade. Refrigerate one to four hours, turning occasionally. When ready for the oven, bake uncovered on 350 for an hour and fifteen minutes. I like to broil this on the skin side to crisp it up a little, but that will be quick so watch and be ready to remove after maybe a minute or two. We want the skin crisp but not burned.

Take the remaining wine mixture. Combine with stock over high heat. Cook on stovetop about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the liquid is reduced, till about a cup. Whisk in cornstarch mixture and boil until slightly thickened. Remove from heat, add margarine while whisking to combine, one tbsp at a time. Season with salt and pepper. Keep warm on the lowest flame, covered. This yields a delicious sauce for the chicken. 

But There’s Nothing There

I have a beautiful bedroom that is my sanctuary. Part of what makes this room special to me is this huge window that looks out onto this majestic border of enormous trees that surround my property. These trees must hold tremendous history and have withstood countless seasons over time. They have survived hurricanes that easily wiped out their sisters and brothers. They make up the frame that is the watercolor of our home. I can luxuriously stare at them all day. Sometimes when I read outside within their protective aura, I can’t even concentrate on my book because the pull towards these trees is so powerful that I can’t look at anything but them. I swear they talk to me sometimes, and when they rustle in the breeze it’s some kind of message. I used to get very depressed when my beautiful trees became barren in the winter. I dreaded it. The view that was once so invigorating felt like death. Lush to bleak. Vibrant green to gray. Not so fun. In this way, my room felt a little less soothing, now that I had to stare at anorexic, sad branches that must have felt as desolate as I did. The winter months were something to endure as opposed to enjoy. The other day as I looked out of this window, it hit me that I am not only not saddened by the current state of the trees, but that I now find it beautiful. My mood is no longer affected by this sight. The emptiness now means that there’s space for something magnificent to come. The absence will lead to wonderful fullness, at the right time. Blank spaces are so giving in that regard; they naturally afford us the opportunity to fill them up however we like. Compare this to making a party. When you reserve an already decorated space you are working with the venue’s decor. Sure, you might save money on bringing in furniture and lighting, but most likely the carpet they have is industrial and ugly, and the lighting sucks. Decorating a blank space requires more work and execution, but you can make it look and feel exactly in accordance with your vision. You can mold it with no limitations. That last month of pregnancy feels so excruciating on the body, but the excitement of what’s to come is uncontainable. It’s the seemingly hard phase that always leads to the best one. Obviously my view of the trees now symbolizes promise to me instead of sadness because of my inner change. I arrived at that place organically, and it felt so nice to just realize it out of the blue. The situation brought on by the nature of winter is the same as it’s always been; it’s me that’s different. I’m seeing the same thing from an entirely new, easier angle. Bare branches? Great. The leaves will grow when they’re ready, as all things will.

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Oscar the Grouch

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Me, not Him. Why? Because the last time I put on this gorgeous Oscar de la Renta gown it was way looser. I haven’t worn it since my daughter’s bat mitzvah three years ago. I felt like a queen that night, and this dress was sheer perfection. I bought it at first sight. I’m not a clothes researcher. If I love something I’m done. I don’t need to know what else is out there. This gown reminded me of something Gwen Stefani would wear to the Grammy’s. It was rock and roll glamour to me. This was the first thing I tried on and the last. While my body is currently stronger and more toned, I’m not as skinny. I feel differently about this depending on the day. I’m not sure if I’m justifying things when I tell myself I prefer the “not as thin yet more fit” version. But I was not happy when I could barely zip this up on my recent shoot. My boobs were spilling out (a good thing) but the zipper was not exactly cooperative. This dress was very expensive and I’d like to wear it. It’s an Oscar for chrissakes!!!! The incredible thing about Oscar de la Renta’s designs is how incredibly wearable they are. He designed for actual women to wear in actual real life scenarios. None of that whacko runway nonsense that no one in their right mind would wear. Truthfully, I do think I put on a couple pounds lately and I’d like to be a drop leaner. It’s been great not weighing myself on a scale the past few years. It can really mess with you. But I don’t like my clothing to be tight. It’s like a constant reminder to put down the quinoa. I was annoyed I let that happen, but what was done can be undone. This Moto jacket wasn’t intended to camouflage anything though. I do love the tough biker chick touch over this ballgown. It’s beautiful edge, both strong and soft. I loved this low, soft ponytail look too. I bought this dress from what was one of Mr de la Renta’s final collections before his death. I’m grateful to own this stunning piece, and I want to enjoy how I feel in it. It’s not the owning of the clothing, it’s the wearing and feeling beautiful in it, as the designer intended.

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Happy New Year 🎆

There’s a scene in the movie “Shakespeare in Love” that has always stuck with me. I must have seen that film about 20 years ago when it came out in the theaters. Theaters were large buildings with rows of seats that movie goers would sit upright in while watching said movie from a giant screen. Those were good times...         

The aforementioned scene that impacted my adolescent brain was as follows; Lady Gwyneth Paltrow, pre Goop, was being woken up by her handmaiden, whose verbal alarm clock said, “wake up, my Lady, it is a new day”. G Pal breathlessly opened her door, after realizing how in love she and young Shakespeare were, and proclaimed , “It is a new world!”. She had been living a stifled, restrictive life and was slated to marry an aristocrat she didn’t love. This new connective energy she felt instantly renewed her love and vigor for life. Everything was now new, lush, exciting, and fraught with possibility. I loved how that concise sentence said everything. How wonderful it is to feel truly in love with life, and how dreadful it is to not. Most people will go through life experiencing both feelings, whether they know it or not (or are willing to admit it). This is a good thing. Only in this duality can we cross over from the flat to the full, from the bleak to the joy. Night to dawn, wounding to healing.

I thought about this a lot on my recent trip to El Salvador. I went for the wedding of two friends from Scratch Academy, my DJ school, Kate and Raul. Raul’s family lives there. I had never gone to a destination wedding before, nor have I ever been to El Salvador. I had also never attended a non Jewish wedding or a baptism (they baptized their daughter after the wedding ceremony). I initially planned on going with a friend. I’ve traveled quite a bit on my own and it was starting to feel a bit lonely. That friend couldn’t make it so I asked several other peeps. Nothing worked out, which was strange since it was only a few days and pretty cheap. At a certain point it really felt like a message that I was supposed to go alone. I’m a pretty powerful  manifester, and this just wasn’t working out. When things don’t work out there’s always a reason. Always. As soon as I made the mental shift from insisting on going with someone to not, I instantly felt a surge of excitement. If there was a message then I was going to receive it and roll with it. I had the time of my life. What’s great about a destination event is that everyone is there for the same happy purpose, so all these strangers become instantly united. It’s like the first day of camp (if you hated camp, this reference will not land properly ).

Traveling myself was the perfect combo in this situation because I was with this large group of lovely, fun people yet I had a lot of quiet, reflective time. I need that very much, that solitary recharge. I hate being “on” all the time, so after a fun day of a group activity, I was able to marinate in myself. It was deliciously contemplative. I’ve never been more connected to myself than I am now. This is after very deliberate, sometimes painful work that I do daily through several mediums (which I blog about). Being this whole made my time with Me so lovely. I didn’t feel lonely for a minute, even though mostly all the other guests were part of a couple. That would have been an agonizing focus of mine prior. This time I barely noticed it. It was a simple observation that I didn’t apply emotion to. That’s the goal of meditation and awareness btw; to observe with no emotion or judgement. It’s an incredible feeling to organically do that. It, like nothing else true, can be forced. Trying doesn’t allow for it, though we can’t get anywhere without effort, consistency, and determination. It’s a subtle yet important distinction. It felt like a new world indeed; a world in which I’m peacefully intact. The holes are filling. This doesn’t mean everything in life is perfect. It’s unrelated to that. What it means is that we are stable, adaptable, and full in a way that external circumstances don’t affect us as much.  There are always reasons to crumble, we just don’t anymore. We are stronger and thereby able to withstand even the most painful, aggravating curveballs. Nothing outside gives us or takes away our peace. The lack is less internally, and so the outside world is so much more enjoyable and enriching.

El Salvador is a very poor country, but driving through the streets I barely noticed the crumbling buildings. I was focused on how brightly painted the cinder block homes were, peeling paint notwithstanding. I was drawn to the beautiful vegetation and flowers that juxtaposed with barbed wire. I loved the neon colored beach tubes strung up on the side of the dusty roads en route to the ocean. The young children selling fruit and trinkets made me smile, despite the fact that many of them didn’t wear shoes. The locals didn’t have much but they were warm and smiling. There was so much life being enjoyed amongst the poor conditions. It’s always how we choose to see things. Some people need very little to smile, while others have so much and it’s just never enough. I loved doing local activities and getting a real feel for where I was. I always hated traveling somewhere and mostly staying in the hotel. I don’t see the point to that at all. I’m fortunate to have a beautiful house; when I travel I don’t really care where I stay as long as I get an authentic experience. There’s nothing like seeing a new place with locals, and the Hidalgo clan was huge, warm, and so hospitable. I loved meeting all the family and friends who were so happy to be there. Destination affairs are great in that anyone in attendance really wanted to have been there. You don’t get any of the guests who are doing you a big freaking favor by gracing you with their attendance at your party. I once told Kate how grateful I am that Scratch gave me a whole new life. It brought so many of my needs into reality. She said, “Yo, Scratch gave me my family!” It’s where she met Raul, and now they’re married with the most beautiful baby girl. As I sat on the group bus driving through the streets, I was overcome with a deep sense of understanding that this was exactly where I belonged at that moment. On that bus, in that country, with those people for this reason. It’s breathtaking to feel so utterly in the right place at the right time. It makes you feel so encased in guidance. It allows for stillness because nothing needs to be done, fixed, or changed. I wouldn’t have had time to reflect like that had I been traveling with someone. None of this would ever have happened for me until fairly recently. The traveling, the newness, the eyes wide open feeling that is unlike any other sensation in existence, the new people who have so much to share, be it laughs or viewpoints. The relief at loving my solitude for the right reasons. How good it feels to share space with myself, and to smile all the time for no reason and for every reason. Wanderlust must become wanderlove. The people I know who travel the most can afford it the least. They make it work, because seeing new things and being in new places is one of the best parts of being alive as human beings. You don’t see cows and plants lining up at baggage claim. How lucky are we to be in these forms that give us such mobility? Travel all comes from incentive. It’s not about energy or money or time. When there’s a will there’s a way. It’s so much easier than we make it out to be. For years I made excuses about so many things and I hated that, but I didn’t know how to stop. I finally stopped making excuses about DJing, and it led me to El Salvador for the best reason in the world. It is very much a new year. It is very much a new world. Already infatuated with 2019.

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Talkin Bout My Generation

I’ve been reading a lot about “unintegrated pain” that families carry around for generations. This concept makes so much sense as far as the whole “oh god, I’m turning into my mother” thing. We repeat our parents’ mistakes and often put our kids through the exact same things we hated as children. Things we vowed we’d never do or say. Behaviors we’d avoid at all costs. Not us, we were going to be better. We’d rise above. We’d love better, communicate healthier, and remain open and loving no matter what. Sigh...if only it were that clean.

I think the reason so many of us continue painful cycles in families isn’t due to genetics or habits. It’s largely because the pain and turmoil surrounding these choices we are subconsciously making are just never addressed. Family pain that collects over the years like your grandmother’s figurines, that no one wants but has no idea how to get rid of them. Women in particular have a very hard time being seen as anything but the loving, smiling, domestic, martyr archetype. The need to cling to the belief of who we are trumps the need to finally put an end to vicious, destructive behaviors that live under the surface of an immaculately set table. The latter requires getting our hands and hearts dirty. We will manically clean every corner of our kitchens, eradicating every spec of dust, because that’s visible. The dirt living under the June Cleaver veneer isn’t seen.  And if we can’t actually see it, maybe it’s not really there and everything is just fine. Maybe we haven’t fucked up, maybe we didn’t somehow perpetuate decades worth of pain and poison, maybe we ourselves weren’t mistreated to such a startling degree. It’s definitely more convenient to keep existing in this imperfect pattern, rather than staring the beast in the eye and finally killing it. Often times the family member that knows they can’t continue like this is labeled the whistle blower. This job is thankless. No one wants anyone else to point out the destructive errors of their ways. In essence, the whistle blower will get her ass kicked.

She will be reviled, alienated, badmouthed, scapegoated, and blamed. She will have to learn to pick up a heavy shield and not drop it, since the machine gun rounds of searing character attacks may never cease. She is seen as a threat since she’s pointing out the truth, because she doesn’t know any other way. She may wind up alone and will learn to fill those now empty spaces with healthier connections to stable, kind humans. She will live by the notion of quality vs quantity. She will enjoy the peace of being by herself because often that is easier, and will have to very closely watch her tendency to isolate herself in the face of emotional danger, a survival skill she learned as a child. Her carrying that instinct into adulthood will be the very turning point that will continue family pain cycles or not. The choices she makes are heavily loaded. How she proceeds will shape the current generation, as well as the next. When she hears the beast approaching with stealth and malice, she can either ignore him and allow him to feed his own power, or she can spear him right in the heart. She can let him slither past to save herself in the moment, or she can beat him at his own game by greeting him and letting him know she’s aware of his presence. The beast in question is the massive pain bubble that’s been ballooning up over time, floating menacingly over generations over inherently good people. The bubble that’s begging to burst and release more pain and hurt than it can contain. Nothing on earth was created to contain such pain. Not people, not animals, not atmospheres, not energies. There is pain everywhere, it’s part of life. But it isn’t our birthright. There is pain that’s unique to individuals, to families, to relationships, to countries, to races, to the global collective. We share it with each other without realizing, like a contagious virus. It exists in so many forms, but we can un-swallow it. It shouldn’t be a given in our daily lives. We can stop the cycle and free ourselves, thereby sparing future generations of having to bear the same burden our ancestors did. It’s messy work, and anyone who revolts from an underground resistance position has to expect that they will be on the receiving end of a lot of hate. But anyone who feels they have a calling to put an end to years worth of struggle and hurt must do so. Anyone who doesn’t agree to go on living a certain way must understand that they feel this way for a reason. Perhaps they’re more perceptive and tapped into the bigger picture. Perhaps they are highly sensitive to numerous energy fields at once, and knows it shouldn’t be this way. Perhaps it’s a cosmic responsibility. Perhaps it’s a dubious honor. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, and that the work just needs to be done. If we don’t fix it we are continuing it, and if we continue it then we are just as guilty as those who came before us. The very first step is to understand it’s separate from us. We may have pain and carry it around, but it’s not fused with who we really are. We carry the pain body but it doesn’t define us. We mustn’t ignore it or run from it; that only feeds it and makes it stronger. It cackles when we look away. The first step in beating it is to almost befriend it. Look at it, learn everything about it, and start to see yourself as an entirely separate entity. So begins the extraction of the pain from your mind. Slowly back away from it by beginning to understand it can’t hurt you anymore. Whether it’s anger, fear, frustration, sadness etc, it’s a construct of the mind. Unless you’re in actual danger, you are really quite safe. Most likely, it’s your only thoughts hurting you.

Being aware that your pain is this thing you’ve been holding that you can put down, kickstarts a life saving shift. The separation begins, and you start to drift away from all that suffocated you for so long. By being intensely aware of your current circumstances, you can draw the conclusion that you’re not in danger. Even if someone is saying hurtful things to you, you can hear those words as just words. They might feel like daggers but they’re not actually so. There will be triggers everywhere forever. We can teach ourselves to not fall prey to them by examining the present. I am alive, I am not being physically attacked, I healthy, I am driving and listening to the radio, I’m at the gym. Literally taking detailed stock of where you are in this moment helps to slowly erase the past. It reminds you that you are protected from an imaginary future that you have made up. One of the ways I feel present is through my feet. Our feet are wondrous. They are filled with sensors that fuse us to Mama Earth. I love being barefoot in general, I always have. Granted I’m only without shoes at home, but my shoes aren’t a blockage. I am instantly soothed by paying close attention to my feet, shoeless or not, being rooted to the ground. This provides me with an instant shot of stability. I then travel up the rest of my body, examining all the sensory sensations that are happening in the moment. Our senses are our gateway to the present. What you are seeing and hearing now is the truth. What you are remembering or predicting is not. It’s like how we tell a kid who is frightened of a movie that it’s not real. It’s ok to be scared, but know that it’s a false reality. It’s little things like this that start to help us distance ourselves from threats, hurts, and anything else that feels destabilizing. And when we move further away, we naturally feel happier, more intact. More whole, calmer. Our own shifts are then calmer to those in our orbit. Vibration pays itself forward. This is how we slowly change course within families; we integrate pain by studying it, coming face to face with it, and then crossing the street. We invite others to cross over with us, only after being accountable for having gone down the wrong path first. There are apologies and humility in order. No correction occurs without owning the mistake. I’m sorry I was hurt, and I’m sorrier to those I have hurt. We all have a responsibility, as well as the tools, to heal years of lousy cycles. Each of us was born with the power and ability to set positive change into motion. Generationally speaking, it will be interesting to see if my grandchildren will remember me as a beacon of love and change, or if they’ll think I was batshit crazy🤷🏼‍♀️. Maybe it doesn’t matter, as long as they’re together and laughing, and that they draw strength and love from each other. Yeah...that’ll make everything worth it.

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Short Circuit

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I truly love shorts. I remember wearing denim ones over black tights in middle school. While I can’t say I miss that look specifically, I do love the concept of an unexpected pair of shorts filling in for a more obvious choice of bottoms. It took me a long time to embrace my legs enough to think I could pull them off. While I’m definitely more toned now, I realize that I put myself through so much unnecessary self scrutiny and doubt. There was never a time I couldn’t have successfully worn shorts. I made myself small for no reason. Having kids so early, a fact I wouldn’t change for anything, catapulted me into this bizarre illusionary sense of being this old, unsexy, washed out mom type. It’s very easy to go down that rabbit hole in an orthodox community, where women are taught to hide their bodies from a very young age. Throw in the idea that we are “impure” when we menstruate as well as during the week after, and you quickly yield results that can best be described as “not hot”. Shorts=hot. Former Me=not hot. You dig?

Now my closet is full of ‘em; yeah Gurl! Some of my favorites are the winter pairs, because I love anything not obvious. These Sass and Bide glittery pair are perfect around holiday time. A little sparkle on the tush goes a long way! Balanced with the relaxed ease of a loose, comfy sweater with just the right amount of detail to be sexy in its own right. These Giuseppe Zanotti boots are a splurge and a standout. I’d never ever spend that much on shoes today, but I’m happy I have them. So killer. I wore my large scale fishnets because I couldn’t find black tights that didn’t have control top. Any suggestions?? Fishnets are my go to with shorts but I think this look would have been a bit better with plain black since the shorts are patterned. Still cute though. Mixing patterns is cool too, especially when winter in New York looks like a giant four month funeral. To any of you who want to experiment with shorts but have been intimidated; just go for it. Lengthen your possibilities wherever you can. Expand in every direction. Shorten the limitations you place on yourself.           

Shortening the distance from my soul to yours today,

Blaga


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Chicken Veggie Stew

Thank you to my friend Rebecca for requesting this off one of my recent instastories. I just love to use my slow cooker on a cold, dark night. The kitchen smells delicious all day, and it’s just such a warm and homey concept. Comfort food in every sense. No oil, no flour, no frying, no grease; this is a clean, healthy way to prepare a complete meal. Protein, veggies, a healthy grain, a homemade sauce, spices, and done. Feeds a whole family with ten minutes of prep. Can’t beat that.

I made this because I knew I wouldn’t have time to make my daughter dinner late afternoon like I normally do. I prepped it in the morning, set the slow cooker on high, and felt soooo satisfied all day that I knew dinner was done. I used things I had on hand.

Ingredients:

A pack of skinless chicken thighs

Six carrots peeled and cut into two inch pieces

Three sweet potatoes unpeeled and cut into chunks

Four parsnips peeled and cut into chunks,

Four celery stalks cut into two inch pieces

Two whole garlic cloves

A medium onion cut into quarters

A zucchini unpeeled and cut into large dice or half inch rounds

Six cups vegetable or chicken stock

A 16 oz can tomato sauce

A cup and a half of quinoa

Two tsp salt

Half a tsp pepper

A tbsp each of garlic powder and paprika

A tsp and a half of Italian seasoning

A dried bay leaf or a bouquet garni of any fresh herbs you might have on hand (rosemary, thyme, sage, parsley, dill).

Directions:

Place the onion, garlic, and sweet potatoes in first. Place chicken on top, then quinoa, then rest of veggies. Tuck in the bay leaf if using, or nestle in the bouquet garni.  Mix the stock, tomato sauce, and spices/seasonings. Pour slowly all over contents. Tightly secure the lid and set to high if morning of, at least six hours in advance. Set to low if preparing night before. Can omit the chicken and make this vegan🥕. Eggplant, butternut squash, chickpeas, or cauliflower would also be great additions here. Any whole grain such as Farro works beautifully too. Enjoy!

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Love Like Milk

 I have this wonderful, life changing book on the chakra system that I’ve been waiting for all my life. We found each other while I was poking around on Amazon a few weeks ago. Out of all the yoga studios out there, this book wandered into mine. The whole notion of “when the student is ready the teacher appears” has been proven to me time and again over the past couple years. It’s truly astounding; Esquire, Stephanie, Betsy, Tim, Patty, and Vikki in my physical life. Eckhart Tolle, Mooji, Ram Dass, Jack Kornfield, Thich Nhat Hanh, Talia Sutra, Dylan Werner, Lisa Romano, Mark Groves, and Vienna Pharaon in my virtual life. Paulo Cohelo through his literature. The list goes on.

The only way to live fully is to commit to being a forever student. There is literally no limit to how much we are meant to absorb and learn from. The more open we are, the more we can receive. It’s that simple. That’s why feeling closed sucks; we deprive ourselves of beautiful, enriching, healthy information that helps us do this human job better. One of the ways to stay open is by learning the chakra system. There are seven chakras in our bodies that are like spinning tops. They act as gates to different parts of us. When the chakras are balanced, so are we. How we carry ourselves feels clean, right, dignified, ethical, and open. We can love. We have perspective. We are calm and more able to withstand the sometimes violent winds that try to knock us down in the physical world. Our chakras are the best tool in keeping our minds and thoughts from railroading us. The chakra system is so beautiful and involved, and I’m not going to try to explain it now, but I wanted to share my thoughts on what I’ve recently learned about the heart chakra.

The heart chakra is the fourth one up from the bottom. The first one, the root one, represents the Earth element which symbolizes stability, security, and feeling grounding. The second one connects to the element of Water. Near the sacral area, water symbolizes our ability to flow, adapt, change shape, and heal. The third chakra in the naval region represents Fire. Fire is our ability to ignite passion and change. Fire changes whatever it touches, so our fire element is what transforms our craziness into something positive and productive. Side note; I recently had my first astrology reading (loved!!!!) and it was revealed to me that I’m mostly comprised of Fire (you were right, D; I AM a ball of dynamite!). This made a lot of sense to me. I’m always asked how I’ve managed to make so many changes huge so quickly. If I’ve got so much fire then I was able to direct it and burn through lots of stuff, thus clearing the path for new. My “transformation” was so clearly explained in that moment. It Also explains why I can be too impulsive sometimes and get heated. All this information is wonderful, since it teaches us what we must work on. Which parts of us need better balancing. It requires humility but it feels lovely to learn. Humble Warrior is one of the essential yoga poses for a reason.  On top of the fire chakra lies the gate to the heart, the command center for love.

Now as we know, I’m a natural lover. I never thought my heart chakra was out of balance since my heart really does feel so open. I can give love fully. I know half the population is terrified of that, which I cognitively understand but can’t relate to. In reading the chapter about the heart chakra, I realized I had so much fixing to do in that department. A couple weeks ago I had a powerful revelation during meditation. It was that my whole life I have associated love with pain. The two were completely intertwined, for several reasons. Love for me was almost comprised of this tortuous push pull that I subconsciously grew to be addicted to over time. As much as I have all these romantic notions of what pure love should be, my entire life’s history taught me otherwise. The pain seemed to bookend the pleasure, with both components being these conflicting Siamese twins. Locked into this pattern that I wasn’t aware of until recently, I would choose scenarios that perpetuated that cycle. So yeah, I’d welcome love, but it was always the wrong kind. My definition of it was simply incorrect. The heart chakra works with the element of Air, which symbolizes lightness, freedom, and a feeling of soaring. A delicious buoyancy. Love for me was always heavy. It weighed me down and strapped me to so much heartache. Now I’m learning that pure love is one in which the air is so clean; we are infused with abundant, renewed breath that lifts us into joy. That’s why to breathe well is to live well because to live well is to love well. I’ve been envisioning my heart and seeing it filled with swirling, foggy, dark air. It’s a mix of clean white milk and dark coffee, each trying to claim their right to the cup that is my heart space. Then I imagine fingers scooping away the dark parts, gently but with fierce determination. The fog is there, I see it, and I understand why it’s there. It doesn’t upset me.  It’s just time to clean house and make space for the kind of love that is free of fear, doubt, and pain. The kind that’s an invigorating infusion of pristine air. Air is limitless and expansive.  It’s all around us but we have to make sure it’s clean before we breathe it in. Just like love. If the air around you stinks, you hold your nose, right? You block it from entering your body. When love is healthy, clean, and right, we feel like we are floating. We are uplifted to heights we never thought possible. A love that tethers and shackles is not love at all. It’s something else, be it an addiction to self punishment, a need to believe your own story that you don’t deserve better, or that it’s your job to fix another person.  Feeling stable and safe leads us to flow and adapt to life’s changes. Being able to have a healthy flow and heal and renew our ever changing state leads us to extinguish some of our fire, and use our fire properly to transform and become something else. Which leads us to drink in air and love expansively, without restrictions or conditions. It’s a two way street; a healthy person both gives and receives in this same way. Earth, water, fire, air. This is what it means to be the living embodiment of Nature.

I have been devotedly meditating on cleaning out all the suffocating smoke from my heart space. I want different. I want that buoyancy. I want to soar. The way I love and treat myself comes before any connection to another. Our hearts must belong to us first. We must know how to care for it, clean it, and keep it balanced. Smooth, white, milky love. Pure. Unblemished. The more balanced we become, the more we will attract this. How blessed are we to have this knowledge so readily available to us? No one has any business bringing an unhealthy heart to someone else. It’s a recipe for failure. Accountability feels good. It feels like a breath of fresh air...

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Tell Me About It, Stud

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This look is needless to say, not understated. Grommets everywhere. This happens to be my favorite traveling outfit. It’s kind of a sweatsuit but it’s so cool and edgy. It’s comfy and looks put together but so easy. It’s one of my favorites from Norma Kamali. The gold high tops are Michael Kors. The jacket was this beyond random number from a beyond random leather shop in bumblesville New Jersey. I went in there to have something repaired, and spotted this insane jacket. If I see something so over the top it’s hard for me to pass it up. I knew I’d eventually use it. I really wouldn’t wear the jacket with this outfit in real life; it’s way too matchy matchy and too much loud gold detailing. It’s def a fashion victim look in actuality, but I knew it would photograph well. I felt like a cast member from the Real Housewives of New Jersey, and I kinda liked it. Hey, when in Rome...

The grommets on the sweatsuit elevate the everyday feel and turn an old Mall standby into casual chic. F all that athleisure nonsense! Enough already with the leggings. Ladies, expand your horizons. A great pair of sweats that hug the tush and are tapered at the ankle are cooler and sexier, in my humble opinion. As always, comfort is key, especially when traveling. But it’s nice when amidst all the chaos of the airport we can keep it tight. It makes looking into those merciless airport/rest stop bathrooms slightly more tolerable. Should I change my name to Theresa...?

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Bitch Island 🧟‍♀️🏝

A couple of my girlfriends and I have this bit; apparently every divorced guy was married to the Wicked Witch of the West. Every. Single. One. While I’m sure some of these women have been cold/difficult/nagging/insert your fave adjective here, I’m guessing they’re not ALL that terrible. Not to mention that these divorced chicks have PLENTY to say about their ex husbands. So where are all these awful women hanging out?? I mean, while we all occasionally meet psycho bitches, I have yet to encounter mass herds of them cruising the streets (unless you live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan).

I like to joke that these female monsters are all living on Bitch Island. That since no one can really attest to their existence, they must be hiding out en masse in some probably exotic locale, laughing and drinking champagne in their Lulu Lemon outfits and Birkin bags, purchased with their alimony settlements. Trading stories about how their ex hubbies sucked in bed while thinking they were Ron Jeremy. How listening to them talk about sports was like being forced to hear the world’s most annoying ringtone over and over. How their increasingly softening bellies were an embarrassment to their Soul Cycled wives. This is what I picture taking place on Bitch Island, where Adderoll is dispensed in gum ball machines and PMS warrants free massages round the clock. Estrogen patches arranged artfully in pretty baskets in the en suite bathrooms.  And there is a special staff whose job is solely to bathe these women in compliments, while actually bathing them in a scented mineral bath. On Bitch Island no one has to pretend to give a shit about their mother in law, or the dreadful coworker and his wife. No one needs to pick up vile, stretched out, yellowed underwear off the floor. These bitches are done with playing the good little wifey, and can let their true inner demon fly. They’re being badmouthed anyway, so who cares?? They may as well do whatever they want. After all, such is the true nature of the Bitch. And since like attracts like, they love to congregate on an island designed for them by them. They aren’t bitchy because they’re unhappy, which is usually the case. Nope! They’re assholes because they just damn well feel like it. No more pretenses. No more phony role playing. They know they’re being dragged through the mud but they couldn’t care less. The inhabitants of Bitch Island are immune to the opinion of others. Feelings aren’t considered cool there. However, selfishness, greed, materialism, and frigidity are.

When I recount certain tales from the Ex Wife Anthology of Meanness to my friend Shira, she wisely counters with , “Oh please, I’d loooooove to hear her take on this”. Which is a good point. I’m of course only hearing one side of the story, and we all know that there’s three sides; his, hers, and the truth. It’s a little scary for me since there’s a whole other perspective that I’m not privy to, when dating new dudes. Even if most of what he’s saying is completely valid, she could have well earned insight and intel. There’s only one answer; time will tell. Listen, I’m also someone’s ex wife. Should I book my ticket to Bitch Island too? Should I run for mayor? I know some pretty amazing divorced women, and there are men out there who claim they’re the worst. What I do know is that one day one of those Bitches will be so dear to me, because as a result of her ensnaring and abusing her ex, I will cross paths with him and ride off into the sunset.  If her being a nightmare gives me my Guy, then I shall most gratefully declare her the best Bitch on the whole island. And her next PMS massage will gladly be on me. Estrogen patches and Botox for everyone! ️️XO

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Cauliflower with Shallots and Tarragon

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“Tarragon” really sounds like the name of a Dothraki character on Game of Thrones; am I right?? As an herb, it’s a strong, definitive flavor that adds beautiful depth to any dish. This is a clean, healthy side that can accompany any meal. It’s more jazzed up than standard roasted cauliflower, which personally, I’m kind of over. It’s just feeling too basic. Vegetables need very little enhancement when properly roasted, but we must mix it up occasionally. This would be great served room temp if made a day ahead. Just dress 20 minutes before serving. I used that multicolored mix of white, purple, and green cauliflower. It was calling my name at Whole Foods. I will say that after I dressed it, the purple cauliflower did bleed a bit. This bothered me a little because food discoloration makes me a bit nauseous, and also because it meant this couldn’t sit out very long, say at a buffet. Unless you don’t care, which is both entirely possible and more normal than my reaction. No matter; you can just use a mix of green and white, or just one of either of those variations. It obviously all tastes the same. Roasting the cauliflower in truffle oil brings out all that delicious, natural flavor. The truffle oil is a special layering of flavor. The tangy dressing lightens up the dish and is so flavorful.

Ingredients:

3 heads any color cauliflower cut into medium size pieces

8 tbsp finely chopped shallots (I think I used 6 whole shallots)

3-4 Tbsp truffle oil.

For the vinaigrette:

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

1/3 cup olive oil

2 tbsp tarragon vinegar

2 tbsp additional finely chopped shallots

2 tbsp chopped fresh tarragon (mine came in a 25 oz pack)

3/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1/2 a cup of toasted slivered almonds or your favorite seed, such as pine nut or pumpkin.

Directions:

The goal with that is a warm crunch, achieve it however you prefer. Mix the cut cauliflower with the truffle oil and 5 tbsp of the chopped shallots. Roast on 400 until fork tender, caramelized, and golden brown, about 40 minutes. Not too soft or mushy. It should be tender but still a teeny bit firm.

Set aside to cool somewhat. This can be served warm or room temp. Make the vinaigrette; mix the oil, lemon juice, tarragon vinegar, fresh tarragon, additional shallots, salt and pepper. Toss gently with the cauliflower. Top with the toasted nuts or seeds before serving. Side note: there’s a broccoli emoji but not a cauliflower one.

Suspended

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Sometimes for a shoot I’ll put on something that I may not reach for in actuality, but that I know will resonate and photograph well. Other times, the times I prefer, are when I choose a killer look I can’t wait to really wear. This landed in the latter category. This look was the perfect mix of relaxed menswear and sexy chick.

These DKNY suspender pants are a major statement piece. Wide legs, swinging suspenders held together with seat buckle clips, navy with exposed white stitching. Sooooo edgy and chic. Since the pants are big, I balanced that with a fitted tank. I put on this vintage tulle and pearl collar that I was lucky enough to spot at a consignment shop several years ago. A very unique embellishment that lends more feminine detail in an unconventional way. I wore navy heels to lengthen my legs a bit, since they were swallowed up by all that fabric. This isn’t your typical beachy waves hair look, so the side parted bun was easy and chic. I love this different take on a holiday cocktail look. This is definitely jazzed up party attire. Amongst all the glittery and sparkly holiday wear, a sharp navy pants statement is a refreshing change. The holidays may be time for gathering together, but never blend in with the crowd. Be the star at the top of the tree⭐️

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Red Pepper Soup 🌶🌶🌶

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Peeps, we got a winner here!! This was a first for me and I must say I’m in love. Served hot or chilled, this soup is a sure to please starter to a special meal. Of course, it’s the star of its own meal too. Simply serve with a savory dressed green salad and you’re good to go 🥗. The best part about this soup is how truly easy it is. Most of my soups on the blog are easy; it’s a rare luxury to have the time to futz with a soup that has many steps. On a typically rushed weeknight, dinner has got to be unfussy; there’s simply too much going on. Cooking shouldn’t add to that chaos. After all, food is comfort. My daughter really loved this one. It was a nice change from the root vegetables I often use to make soups this time of year. And the color is just lovely; it was like a shade of vermillion.

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Ingredients:

Six large red bell peppers

A medium onion chopped

Three tbsp vegetable oil

One can of chickpeas drained and rinsed

Four to six cups of vegetable or chicken broth

A tsp of cumin

1 tsp dried basil

1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

1/4 tsp smoked chili powder

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

Directions:

Chop and seed the peppers and set aside. Heat the oil in a large soup pot and sauté the onions. When the onions become translucent, add the balsamic, cumin, chili powder, and dried basil. Spicing the onions with the vinegar gives a fantastic undertone to the soup. It’s a great trick for really ensuring that your base will be special.

Sauté the spiced onions a minute or two more. Add the chopped/sliced peppers and a cup of broth. Sauté until softened about 15 minutes. You can alternate the sautéing with keeping the pot lid on to sweat the peppers. This speeds up the softening process.

Add rest of broth, salt and pepper, and the chickpeas. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for 20 minutes. Blend with a soup blender, adjust salt and pepper if needed, and serve. 🥗🥖.

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