Jumpin’ Jumpin’
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This is one of my fave casual jumpsuits. It’s made of sweatshirt material that has gotten sooo soft over the years. I bought it from a local boutique for a very affordable price. The tank straps and low back allow for just a hint of unassuming sexy with the right strappy lounge bra. Jumpsuits are great because they are a complete outfit with a single item. This is a great piece for lounging at home barefoot, with slides to do errands in, or even with a low heel and fitted denim jacket or boxy blazer to take it from day to night. Jumpsuits are extremely versatile because they have a streamlined feel. They’re inherently neat. They are easily dressed up with the right accessories. It took me quite a few years to nail down the casual look at home that wasn’t shlumpy. I’ve had this piece for six years now. It’s more proof that affordable= adorable. Most of my cheaper purchases have had strong staying power. I don’t discriminate; if I like it and it looks good that’s all that matters.
Red Lentil Pasta w Fresh 🍅🌿Sauce
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I find a these new variations of pasta thrilling (I need to get out more). They’re full of protein and fiber. Same carb content but with majorly added nutrients. My daughter has veered more towards vegetarian eating but she’s quite skinny, so these pastas made of wheat alternatives are perfect for her. I bought this red lentil one because I liked the color. Which led me to select yellow cherry tomatoes and bright green basil ️. Color is so important in cooking. This was beyond easy to prepare. Simple, fresh ingredients. When I was recently in Italy this summer I treated myself to a pasta entree the last night. It was handmade with cherry tomato sauce. I didn’t realize the sauce wasn’t really saucy; it was sautéed cherry tomatoes like I made here. I had my heart set on twirling my noodles with a fork in a yummy, thick tomato sauce so I asked for some. I figured no biggie since others at our table had that. Um... the waiter went batshit crazy. He called other waiters to the table; they were all equally appalled at my American ignorance and disrespect for their cuisine. I stood my ground while my daughter and her friends were rolling on the floor laughing at the hysteria. They just did not want to give it to me. Epilogue; I got what I wanted and enjoyed my food under their Mediterranean death stares. Whatever. Don’t mess with a chick who orders pasta once a year.
Ingredients:
Red lentil pasta cooked accordingly to package directions.
Three large peeled garlic cloves chopped.
Two pints of mixed or mostly yellow cherry tomatoes.
A cup of packed basil leaves julienned. More if needed as to be used as garnish when serving.
Heat three to four tbsp good olive oil in a large saucepan with depth. Have vegetable broth and some white cooking wine on hand to deglaze the pan so as not to burn the garlic. I like adding the tomatoes to the hot pan before the garlic. Tomatoes give off water so the garlic won’t burn as fast. Season with salt and pepper.
Sauté tomatoes a minute or two then add chopped garlic. Sauté until the garlic is super fragrant and lightly browned, and the tomatoes are melted and softened (not mush!). Add tbsp of broth with a little white cooking wine to deglaze the pan as needed. Add the pasta to the pan, turn off the the flame, drizzle with some more oil, and stir in the basil. The flavors will all converge in the hot pan. Add some extra salt and pepper to taste only if needed. E. Z.
Reinventing the Wheel
/Wheel pose in yoga is still a challenge for me. I’ve come a long way though. A few months ago it felt totally unattainable to me, but today I can get up properly on my own. I manage two labored breaths instead of the goal of five peaceful ones, but I’ll get there. With patience (not my strong suit) and practice I’ll get there.
Wheel, like all advanced poses, requires trust and strong grounding. Trust in your body, how you control it, in the pose itself, and especially in the natural ability to root so strongly into the earth. Rooting with strength and conviction allows us to backbend. The expansiveness of wheel is wonderful. Sew, plant, root, grow in ways you couldn’t imagine prior. It all makes perfect sense. When we find that place of ease, we can breathe smoothly and deeply. My breathing in wheel is still not easy because I’m not entirely trusting of myself in this pose yet. I have hurt my neck doing it in earlier attempts. There has been a clear connection between my overall state of trust in life and in myself and my yoga practice. I was a hot mess when I started. A highly functioning hot mess, but I was raw and all over the place in so many ways. No trust, no ease, all entangled with human egoic ideas of who I was and how life has to look.
I began practicing exactly three years ago with Stephanie, who is my forever guru. Almost every major positive change in my life has somehow stemmed from her and her studio. The other teachers I have, my transformative sunrise practice, other students who have enriched my life in various ways, books I’ve read, spiritual masters I’ve learned about, certain types of music, the purpose of this human incarnation, the power of the breath. She has guided me through some very rough oceans, always with direct loving kindness and incredible wisdom and compassion. She got me in an instant when we first met. I looked at her and just instantly cracked open. Three years after that life changing meeting, Stephanie has left New Jersey for a new chapter in her own story. When she told me this a month ago I was obviously devastated. She has been my constant, my foundation, my teacher, and my friend. She’s my spiritual mother. I couldn’t picture not being able to see her and be in her presence. Her classes are poetry in motion. Her wisdom is felt in every breath. However, I surprised myself in how quickly I recovered from the news of her departure. All the teachings about how Life/Source/the Dharma always gives us what we need, which I so know, kicked in. It was time to integrate all I’ve been learning and writing about. There’s no reason to be scared if we trust in the constant unfolding of life. Clearly it is felt that I’m ready for her to not physically be here with me. It felt like graduation in a way. She and I have discussed many times how all the dots between us connect. We have often charted the stars in the constellation of my life, a shape that keeps taking on new form with each new shedding and rebirth. She taught me that I’m a shape shifter. We all are, we just have to come to that realization. In her last class two weeks ago there was not a dry eye in the packed room. But if the foundation of yoga is non attachment, then it’s counterproductive to hold ourselves back by attaching to the idea of her needing to be there for us. I was able to piece myself back together pretty fast after the news of her departure because the roots she planted with me allows me to bend and expand. The stronger the foundation, the farther the backbend. As Sunrise Betsy always says, find comfort in the discomfort. I’m not comfortable with Steph leaving, but I have found comfort in knowing I must be ready for it. As Eckhart Tolle says, if it’s happening right now it is because it is needed for the evolution of your consciousness. Ok, I accept. This summer I was presented with a tough personal choice. I know what the answer is. I would not have chosen that answer in the past, but different people make different choices and I’m a different person indeed. Steph gave us a choice of bridge or wheel that last class. I wanted to try wheel, which is much harder. I wrestled with my head for 20 seconds and told it to be quiet, in order to connect the breath and the body. I got up instantly. Ok, I said to myself, you’re up. Now you just need to stay there. Thank you, Stephanie, for teaching me how to crawl, walk, then rise. It’s not where we think we are going that determines our life course; it’s where we come from that sets all the right actions into motion. When I had this conversation with her in person, she said ,”You were ready. I just happened to be here”. Hold on to the people who open you up. They have been sent to you as messengers to teach you about your own limitless expansion. Allow them to work their magic on you. Don’t just spin around in the same circle for 85 years then die. Keep growing and reinventing the wheel.
Those IG Reminders
/You know how on Instagram we get those periodic reminders of old posts? Like, “see your post from two years ago”. I love those. I joined social media kicking and screaming about three years ago. It was a time where every area of my life began to shift and joining Instagram was part of that. I was very resistant because my only exposure to it was bored housewives blowing smoke up their own asses. It seemed to me to just be another place to post family photos and bland “witticisms”, out of an attempt to perpetuate the self serving notion that our lives are interesting enough to be shared. Usually they are not. I’m honest enough to guess that I was anti the Gram as a result of this very fear; that I had nothing original or different to say than the typical Real Housewives of the Shtetl. I had struggled internally with that for many years; that on paper I was leading the same formulaic life as everyone around me. A life that I personally did not find that interesting. This does not mean that said life formula doesn’t contain many positive aspects. However the lack of individuality and originality ate away at me for years. After a friend convinced me to have my daughter set me up an IG account, I changed perspectives quickly. That happens to me a lot. I will get stuck in a certain model and argue as to why it must not be different, only to be pushed into a new idea and then love it immediately. Leslie was right as usual. She made the case that I needed an outlet for my creativity, creativity I didn’t really see that I had since it had become an atrophied muscle. I took to it like a fish to water. I recall posting little bits of poetry, expression, and ideas with a pounding heart. It was a huge deal for me then to expose myself and reveal what was really happening inside my heart and mind. It was the good kind of nervous. Each like was this hit of recognition and acknowledgement. I was so excited when a stranger liked a post. It was fascinating to be able to connect with people I’d never met, and from across the world at that! I felt on the cusp of fame. I felt seen and known. I know this sounds like an 85 year old lady’s awe at the magic of social media, but that’s honestly what it was like. Les always describes me as an Amish chick crawling naked out of a pothole in Times Square; I cannot disagree. I still retain that quality throughout the many versions of me that have arisen and faded, then arisen again. I believe I always will and I’m happy about that. It feels better to walk through the world wide eyed than with eyes half closed behind a dulled veil. I remember embracing Instagram with the intention of curating a life so that if I were to meet a man, he’d be able to get a sense of me. WHOA. That is a pathetic statement. Anything we share should be for our own fullness. I recently recalled that I’d thought that and it’s sad that my headspace at the time was primarily about how I’d be perceived by a guy. I was so used to doing everything for others and their approval. When I talk about my account I’m referring to my private little one that’s separate from @lady_blaga. It’s just a few hundred peeps that are mostly family and friends. I actually love it and when I look at it I see a life that I have indeed been curating. For me. There has not been one post reminder where I haven’t been hit with a wave of gratitude for how far I’ve come. I sharply remember my life in each picture, what I was struggling with, what I was thinking about, who I was interested in romantically, insecurities I was grappling with. Each pop up from the past reinforces my growth. I have fought for each new rung on the ladder, and that ladder goes on forever. One of the things the Gram has given me has been a growth chart. My posts aren’t the same because my life isn’t the same. I can see an evolution of which I’m proud. One day I will be 85. And I have committed to curating a life that I will still be in awe of. Social media is only as magical as what it represents or achieves. It’s only as impactful as it’s content. Our content has limitless possibilities. Where I was two years ago or a year ago was good too, for who I was then. I’m always appreciative of her and her efforts. But now is a vast improvement and I have so much further to go. One breath at a time, one step at a time, one post at a time. Follow me. I won’t disappoint either of us.
Silan Drizzled Sweet Potatoes
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While visiting my daughter in Israel In February we ate at a little cafe in Old Jaffa. I had a delicious dish consisting of wonderfully simple yet perfect ingredients, as most excellent dishes often contain. This was a roasted drizzled with Silan, which is date honey. It’s a wonderful product that adds terrific depth and sweetness. I wanted to recreate the concept here with my own twist. This was so easy and simple to prepare, yet it presented beautifully. Optional crumbled feta for you cheese lovers. Toasted walnut pieces lent a great nutty crunch to balance the sweetness of the potatoes and honey.
Ingredients:
One sweet potato per person, halved length wise.
Silan.
A cup of walnut pieces toasted on a dry skillet until golden brown and fragrant.
Crumbled feta cheese.
Rub the halves with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast face side down on 400 until fully tender and caramelized. Gently turn over the sweet potatoes with a spatula so as not to tear the flesh. Place on a platter. Drizzle each half with the Silan. Top with feta if desired. Sprinkle walnuts on top of each half as well. Could this be any easier?? Now all you gotta do is enjoy.
Winging It
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I felt terrible disappointing Victoria’s Secret by choosing to rep a different set of wings. I am beyond in love with this Balinese clothing company I found on Instagram, through this wonderful yogi I follow. Warriors of the Divine makes me feel exactly that when I wear one of their handmade pieces. This black kimono with these amazing giant gold angel wings is mystical and beautiful. I feel just as good in larger scale clothing than I do in fitted dresses. I don’t feel the need to wear something skintight to enjoy feeling lovely. A floaty kimono gives the chance to enjoy our bodies in a different way; you can feel the air on your skin, be more conscious of what’s going on underneath the fabric, and delight in feeling unconstricted. Chances are most chicks in the room will be in a more predictable silhouette; a loose piece takes a certain amount of confidence to feel great without the need to outline your form. I love the combo of black and gold. When I’m in black clothes I love to pour on the yellow gold jewelry. This dress made me feel so ethereal and otherworldly. It has a goddess Stevie Nicks vibe. The wings aren’t just beautiful. They’re symbolic for obvious reasons. I love clothing with a message, and anything that reminds me I can fly is wonderful. It’s also a reminder that I’m protected by my angels at all times. This dress physically covers me but liberated me at the same time.
Pass the Mic
/There’s a line in one of my favorite Beastie Boys songs. The song is called Pass the Mic. The line is so simple, but it’s delivered so perfectly, “and now I’ve gotta pass the mic to Yauch”. That would be Adam Yauch, one third of the Beastie Boys, and the one that the other two (Adam Horovitz and Mike Diamond) credit with founding the group and being its driving creative force. For the record I’ve always had a crush on AdRock (Adam H), who currently looks like a hot, scruffy, hipster dad from Brooklyn. Yauch became a fully practicing Buddhist in the 90’s, which is why it’s appropriate that I end my retreat recap with a reference to him. Most intensively creative people are always on a quest for ideas and inspiration. Creativity is a muscle that always needs to be flexed, and like any muscle it just gets stronger. It also needs to recharge and restore during periods of rest. I don’t think it’s possible for a deeply creative soul to be complacent. The need to constantly be connecting dots and unearth more inspiration never goes away. As is often the case, Yauch, despite experiencing tremendous wealth, success, fame, and creative fulfillment that came attached to all the sex, drugs, and rock and roll one could ever dream of, realized that the ideas of Western achievement were false. So many seemingly successful people, famous or not, are just not truly blissful and peaceful. They don’t necessarily like their lives. Not content to just sail on the winds of all his success, Yauch traveled to Nepal where he was greatly moved by the plight of the persecuted Buddhists in Tibet. He became devoted to the teachings of the Dalai Lama. He was very much in awe of the monks he met who were brutally tortured yet retained a deep sense of joy, peace, and compassion for life, even for their torturers. Peace is addictive in that once you really taste it you crave more. This is obviously the best kind of addiction, and from then on his Buddhist ideals infused everything he did, including the music. Yauch was the one who founded the Free Tibet concerts as well as the Milarepa Fund. Milarepa was a famous Tibetan monk who was terribly tortured. Yauch was a true Boddhisattva, an awakened being, and wrote a song called Boddhisattva Vows. With the concerts and fund he wanted to help Tibet be free from the oppression of the Chinese government, that to this day forcefully prohibits practicing Buddhism. It’s nuts how the most peaceful people literally on Earth have to flee, all the while holding their captors and oppressors in a space of compassion. This seems impossible but it’s not because they’re doing it. These are not white girl problems. Yauch sadly died of cancer way too young, but left a lasting impact for so many reasons, including his talent, mind, heart, and dedication to all of humanity. An awakened being never goes to sleep, even in death. That’s why a true Buddhist doesn’t fear leaving their bodies. I cannot imagine not being afraid of death, but just think of the peace that comes with eliminating that central worry in all our lives. What if we just took that piece out? Every single day our lives are decreased by one. We inch closer to dying every night we go to sleep. Dying is just as natural as being born; maybe it’s really not as bad as we have been taught to believe. I don’t want to die now, like AT ALL, but I’d like to go through my time here without imagining the grim reaper following me and my loved ones around, like in the Scream movies. Truthfully I don’t do that anymore. That stopped a couple years ago, though I absolutely was previously obsessed with mortality. Obsession of any kind blocks joy because it’s attachment. A fixated mind gets in the way of an open heart, no matter the object of our fixation. The goal of Buddhist practice is to achieve an open heart that includes all the pain and suffering in the world, especially our own. It’s not “get over it and open your heart”. No, it’s allow all the pain, see it, love it for teaching you grace, but don’t get tangled up in it. Life has ten thousand joys and ten thousand sorrows, all asking for our acceptance and acknowledgment. All transient passersby. We are made of equal parts love and fear. The practice is to have the love conquer the fear in each individual moment. Moments and experience are always in flux but the task is unchanging. As with creatives, a spiritually aware person is also never complacent. They don’t get attached to the pleasures and joys either, as those are in flux too. At the end of my silent retreat, a Friday, I was a roiling kettle of simmering, competing emotions and sensations. I was proud, relieved it was over, triumphant, lighter, exposed, raw, drained, invigorated, scared to leave yet dying to sleep in my own bed, unbelievably moved, beaming, and sobbing hysterically. This is tough work and I, We, had completed it together. I felt deeply connected to each member in our 65 person group without ever having spoken to them. One body indeed. Part of our morning was the same as the others, but mostly we had several ceremonies that fiercely drove home all we had just done. Three students had just completed a year of intense study and were given their robes and Japanese names in a Jukai ceremony. Many of the attendees had these robes and special names. I didn’t understand the purpose of the names, though I thought they sounded super cool (especially because they reminded me of characters from Kill Bill). During Jukai it was explained that these names are fresh versions of ourselves, almost like a spiritual alter ego. For example, the teacher said to one of the students, Alex, “Life is always full of situations and conflict. There’s Alex’s reaction and there’s Konshin’s reaction”. Ah, ok, I get that! I loved it actually, knowing that we can always choose our approach to anything. I often think about how the old Jessica would react vs how the new Jessica would react. The new version is a lot smarter and more grounded; her reactions are always better. These new inductees had family and friends come to the ceremony, it really was like a graduation. At one point during part of the rituals included in the induction, the three of these men stood on a platform and the rest of us snaked around them while reciting Buddhist vows. I locked eyes with Michael, the oldest of the three, and was struck by the shining purity in his face and blue eyes. It was like looking at the eyes of a baby, all raw joy and sweetness. I know nothing about this man, which is the point of all this; we don’t need to know anything except each other’s Buddha nature. Make no mistake, life includes wisdom, which is vastly different than knowledge. Knowledge lives in the mind, it is facts, statistics, information, books, and ideas. Wisdom resides in the heart. Both are important but not equally so. Heart wisdom is always the inner teacher. Wisdom includes knowing how to size up a situation and knowing how to act out of compassion for ourselves. Ahimsa, the Sanskrit word for compassion, begins with how we relate to ourselves. Self preservation and self care are vital. Heart wisdom doesn’t mean to be a soft schmuck. But it means we can move wisely throughout life with a deeper understanding of the incentives of others. The vision of Michael’s eyes come to me often, he was just this beacon of love in that powerful moment. He was aglow. I’m fortunate to have seen that. That day and time I could have been anywhere, seeing or ignoring any number of scenarios. But I was there and I saw that. Another ceremony we had before Jukai was at the conclusion of our final morning meditation. It was instrumental, using all these ancient Buddhist means of sound. I love sound vibrations and attend sound baths at home periodically. They are delicious. You just lie there comfortably while different vibrations engulf and enter you. It’s incredibly healing and unlocks us internally. I have always loved the primal beats of African music, the painful wail of bagpipes, the soulful shriek of a harmonica, and the ridiculous sexiness of a guitar, just to name just a few. I am in awe of the effects of sound. During the retreat the robed women in the back of the meditation zendo, played these massive sound bowls. It’s work, as I know from my yoga teachers who do it daily during our class. You bang the edge of the bowl then catch the vibration and move it around the rim, filling the space with the vibration over and over. Each bowl sounds different, and each person I know that has one says the same thing, that the bowls have a mind of their own. They teach you how to use them, not the other way around. I’ve been meaning to get one for a long time, and my daughter brought me one from her trip to India. On this final day as I was releasing the black smoke from my gut that I referenced in the previous post, during this intensely powerful music ceremony, a mad rush of the smoke poured furiously out of me. I did not plan on this, it just happened and it felt like I was on this wild energetic ride. I sat it my chair as I’d done all week, being filled with gongs, chimes, and drums. The last few minutes all these mystical, ancient sounds came together in one fast, giant clanging force, and the only word I can use is transformative. It was very cleansing. Shifting energy is draining work. I was euphoric but wiped out, like after giving birth. It’s a spot on analogy; we each birthed yet another version of ourselves on this retreat. Dormant pain bodies were shaken awake and began to reluctantly pack up their dirty things. To love is to exist under a new regime. Clearing space takes fierce determination when there are certain egoic aspects that refuse to move. They have nowhere to go so they latch on to our purity and goodness. But if all things are transient, they need to leave too. Which leads me to Pass the Mic, which we did that day as well. When we were finally allowed to break our silence, I think this was after the sound ceremony because I could barely speak (not to worry, I figured it out) since I had been crying so much. We each had two minutes to say what we were feeling in that moment. Timing was important because we had to be efficient since we needed to leave Garrison by the afternoon to make room for the next retreat. Reyshin was told to gong us when we reached our time limit. I think I was gonged nine times, as one would expect. There was so much to say. As I often do, I started with humor. I introduced myself and said that I think we should end the week with a talent show, like at Kellerman’s in the last scene of Dirty Dancing, since this felt like the last day of camp. Like, imagine if the person who we all thought was the shyest in the group just busted out some breakdancing. We had of course all been making up assumptions about each other all week, so it could be a fascinating and hilarious social experiment. Daishi, our strict but loving leader would direct, since in my imagination she owned and operated a Reform Jewish sleepaway camp in the Catskills. Koshin, one of the teachers who I hadn’t yet met, doubled over laughing. Mic drop, mission accomplished. I also commented on how the corn on the cob that we ate at lunch the day before could have easily been a logistical nightmare on a silent retreat, but that we as a group handled that quite impressively (cue the laugh track). Not wanting to seem like the avoidant class clown, I also spoke of how I was terrified to go back to regular life. How I was wary of failing at the new challenge of integration. How I had entered this week with such outlined commitments to myself, and I didn’t want to let myself down by immediately taking back on the roles I was determined to shed. Gong! I spoke of how one evening a few of us were staring quietly at the mountains after a storm. There was a magical smoke floating on top of the mountains, and that I was moved by how nature/we are always simultaneously still and in motion. I quoted Eckhart Tolle who tells us to “let nature teach us stillness”. Gong!! I said I know, I know, you’re right but can I just thank Frank (Wilford Brimley from the first post) for being such a Buddha...GONG GONG GONGGGGGG!!!!!!!! Later on at lunch, a few of the ladies were so cute and came over to me saying that they’d suspected all week that I’d be funny (🏼). One of the things I loved hearing during pass the Mic was when a woman thanked her neighbor directly across from her (the aforementioned Alex) for always smiling at her when we did our bows. That touched my heart so much. She said that the two of them looking at each other and smiling during each bow kept her going. The power of just a simple smile to connect is one of life’s most basic threads. Most of us took ourselves and our bows very seriously this week. Picturing these two sweet faces shining at each other from across the zendo was beautiful. They were in it together, united by just the upward direction of their mouths. Think of the fleeting connection when you smile at a stranger. It’s often all it takes. A yogi friend asked me how it was. I said Milarepa had it worse and he didn’t get farm fresh scones. Life is full of words. Carrie Fisher, in describing her volatile relationship with Paul Simon said, “words, words, there were just so many words”. I never forgot that line. I’m sure they did, especially with him being a linguistic genius. But the “I love you” can morph into a “fuck you” so quickly. Language is a gift of communication unique to humans. We so often misuse, overuse, underuse, and abuse it. There is always so much to say. But there is also always more that doesn’t need to be said. At least not in the way we think. Speech is never as impactful as true communication. And communication is at its most powerful when we learn to communicate with ourselves. I’m proud I did this. I’ll do it again. I’m practicing finding my voice with silence.
Taco Tuesday Whenever 🌮🌯
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Omg so delish; vegetarian chili with sautéed cabbage and corn in a super low carb tortilla! Yes please! My current obsession are these delicious very low carb soft tortillas. They’re a brand called Mama Lupe and I got them on amazon. I have been using them to make omelet wraps, quesadillas, and other yummy meals. I crisp them up slightly by placing them flat in a dry, hot skillet. They just need a minute or two on each side. Flip gently with tongs to get both sides golden brown. So simple yet makes such a difference.
This recipe is great. Sautéed shredded green cabbage is a crunchy base for the chili. Sautéed fresh corn kernels add great color, texture, and summer sweetness on top. For the cabbage layer 🥬 sautéed half a head of green shredded cabbage in a couple tbsp heated olive oil, seasoning with salt and pepper to taste.
Moisten pan if necessary with a tbsp or two of vegetable broth. Cook about five minutes, retaining the bite. This needs to still have some crunch. Set aside. Can be used warm or room temp. For the corn layer do the same, using fresh corn kernels shaved from two ears of corn. Don’t use frozen. Better to omit and top the tacos with guacamole, cheese, or sautéed onions. The corn just needs about two minutes to cook. Set that aside as well. You can prep this before making the chili or while it’s cooking, for the sake of efficiency.
For the chili:
A diced green pepper, a diced red pepper, a diced yellow onion, two cloves of minced fresh garlic, half an eggplant cut into one inch cubes, a diced small or medium green zucchini, a 6 oz can of tomato paste, a large 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes, half a cup of vegetable broth, two tbsp chili powder, 1 tsp dried oregano, 1 tbsp red wine vinegar, 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, 1/2 tsp pepper, 1 tsp salt.
Directions:
Sautéed the onion in several tbsp of olive oil in a large pot, adding the garlic when the onion is fragrant and turning golden brown. Deglaze with vegetable broth tbsp by tbsp as the pot dries up. You don’t want to burn your aromatics (or anything else). Add the red wine vinegar to the onions and garlic. This will make a fabulously flavorful base. Adding vinegar and seasonings to my aromatics is a favorite trick of mine. It sets the stage for maximum flavor. When it smells delicious (you’ll know), add all other ingredients, stirring gently to combine. Cover and bring to a strong simmer on medium heat. When there’s nice bubbling activity, lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook half covered for 30 to 45 minutes, stirring occasionally. You want cooked not mushy. You can of course substitute your favorite chili recipe, vegetarian or not. To assemble the soft tacos, make a layer of 🥬then chili then . Add any extra toppings of your choice, including chopped cilantro.
💕💚💕💚
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So into neon! This hot pink denim mini from J Crew is quite a few years old but still so fresh. It hasn’t gotten a ton of use since it was one of those pieces I didn’t always know what to do with. As my style choices continue to unfold and evolve creatively, I’m finding tons of ways to reuse pretty much all the items in my closet. It’s fun being a mixmaster, be it while DJing, cooking, or getting dressed. A Hawaiian shirt is not something I’d have bought several years ago. Such a shame since they’re so much fun! I love this linen tie up version; it defines summer. This outfit was my little nod to old school movies like “Beach Blanket Bingo”, those 50’s films that were both innocent yet pin up. An Annette Funicello vibe (she of the original Mickey Mouse Club). I’m not the biggest floral wearing gal overall, but this top made the cut. I ordered a bunch of inexpensive ankle bracelets on amazon. I haven’t worn anklets in awhile and I’ve been really enjoying revisiting foot jewelry; toe rings, anklets etc. They’re a sexy detail that is speaking to my growing hippie chic roots. I encourage you to work a fabulous neon statement piece this summer; ‘‘tis most def the season. And until I get my tush to Hawaii, this shirt will have to do🏻♀️.
Girlfriends’ Guide to Divorce
/So here’s a tip I have heard from divorced friends of both genders. Following a divorce or separation; you don’t ever want to be the first. As in, you don’t ever want to be the first relationship for someone in the midst of a life altering transition. Ending a marriage, especially a long one, is an extreme makeover of one’s life. It should also be one of the heart, but not everyone will choose to dig so deep. However, at the baseline, beginning a new life is well... beginning a new life. There will be lots of strides, stumbles, decisions, freedoms, possibilities, and opportunities. The smorgasbord of other partners is both exciting and overwhelming. While divorce comes with lots of positives, it also comes attached to extreme loneliness, blinding solitude, a lack of a role that was once your identity, a physical relocation (anyone moving away from the permanent residence of their children has way more emotional struggle to contend with) guilt, shame, fear of failure, etc. I had no idea how to not be someone’s wife when I got divorced. It had been my role since I was 20, which is essentially on the border of childhood and adulthood. My entire adult life had been built around coupledom. It was the bedrock of my being a mother. Reworking one’s life at any stage is automatically a time of massive seismic shift. The earth beneath us literally feels like it’s pulling apart and restructuring. We might fall through the cracks of change and be swallowed up. There is a temporary loss of being grounded, since it’s simply a new foundation that has yet to be solidified. This new foundation takes a lot of time. At least it should. We are building new lives and new identities from scratch. So the advice I’ve received, again from both guys and girls I know who are new to this process is; do not get dragged into to anyone’s transitioning. It’s most likely not sustainable. The lure of possibility is simply too great. People will want to sample the smorgasbord, both on a physical and emotional level. Those entrenched in legal battles, finding new homes, and dipping their toes in the freedom of dating are naturally spread quite thin. It’s takes a long time for all the floating factors to start to merge and find a new home. Most going through a divorce will try out several or many new relationships before truly realizing what works for them. They didn’t get it right the first time, so it’s a relearning if who we are before we know what we need and want from a partner. My own needs and wants have changed every few months. I’ve seen it as I keep learning myself too. Some things I wanted a year ago I don’t want today. In essence, don’t be the first chick a guy in transition picks for the time being. It’s a weak move on the part of both parties. Believe me, I understand all the hard stuff mentioned above. It’s sad and scary. We all finally want something resembling consistency and security. But that only really comes if the individuals involved are consistent and insecure. Latching on to anyone in the middle of aforementioned seismic shift sounds like a person desperately grasping onto a rope so they don’t fall. Only the fall is really only a few feet below you. It’s a lot harder to be dumped when someone awakens to the fact that they have options, than it is to fill your own cup and want true inner and outer stability. What do we tell our kids when they fall? That’s it’s ok. That they shouldn’t be afraid to try again. Don’t take the easy way out and hide in the corner. We want to teach our kids resilience and belief that they’ll get it right next time.
There were relationships I thought I wanted when I was new to this. I had been coming from a place of tremendous lack. I was more scared to be alone than I realized. It’s not that I couldn’t do it, I was just tired of it. I felt I was finally deserving of a partner, a person I could believe was at last the healthy choice. Looking back at these men, it’s the biggest joke. They would have all resulted in a big pile of nothing. We are given loneliness and solitude for a clear reason. To avoid it is to avoid dealing with it. Do I want someone who can’t deal with hard shit like that?? If they can’t face their own situations then where will my stuff fit in? Practically speaking, I want someone super intact and grounded so that we can build something together. Any successful relationship seems like it has two strong, centered people who can then build a foundation and keep going up. A person who still has holes to fill is a risk. Ignoring that risk speaks to who you are, not to who they are. Everyone is entitled to their process, and everyone’s process is different. To cling to someone as they’re changing lanes doesn’t seem wise. My male friends have said this too; that the chick they were with initially was a matter of time. As they grew more secure so did the need for a strong woman. They didn’t want to rescue someone while they were just learning to live again too. My female friends were adamant for obvious reasons as well; honey, it never lasts, they all said across the board. Do your own thing first. So I did, which has really widened my lens as to who I am. For the first time I finally feel better equipped to choose wisely. I’m far from done, and I want someone to figure some of this out together with. That’s part of being a couple. But I’m no one’s transition and no one’s backup. I would have been prior to now, but that was many versions of me ago. It’s sad, what I’d have settled for. It feels nice to not betray myself anymore. And as a fact, anyone you have to cling so tightly to isn’t committed. Unless you’re ok with that than well... Men can be like dogs. They can smell insecurity because it directly affects their freedom. And freedom post divorce is a necessary part of all this recalibration. In yoga we are taught to honor the pause. In music we are taught to cherish the spaces between notes. In cooking we know to let a dish rest before slicing into it. Cutting too soon releases precious juice and flavor. In photography we let pictures develop. Get it? Time and space are required in interpersonal relationships too. I’ve had men cling to me while dating. It spoke to their own inner dialogue; what kind of future could I have with someone who isn’t fully actualized or whole? It’s not my job to be the bandaid to someone else’s fears or insecurities. I’m not even supposed to do that with myself. No more bandaids, they fix nothing and fall off eventually. I’m grateful to my peeps who led me in the right direction even when I didn’t understand this idea. We want what we want when we want it, and I sure did. I’m grateful for my growing pains, they gave rise to a much wiser, stronger version of myself. When the lack triggers arise, I can identify them immediately and reroute. I took the time to learn how to do that, and it wasn’t easy. But I prefer those lessons over looking back at being caught in the crossfire of someone’s understandable transition, and feeling like an idiot. A guy I liked once told me he respects me too much to drag me into his erratic post separation mess. That was a hard moment for me but I was moved by the honesty. I am grateful for him not wanting me to get railroaded. Perhaps he saw that I deserved better when I had not yet arrived at that place myself. When others can help show us what we deserve then we are guided in the way of eventually learning it too. And those lessons are never unlearned. As I attempt to navigate this new life with grace, trust, and determination, I’m committed to ascension. The right person will catch up with me eventually since we will be on the same path. His commitment to himself will be just as clear as mine. No chasing, no running, no tricks, no convincing. Two people walking side by side with a shared view of life and love. Emotional storms are inevitable. But so is that magnificent, delicious period after the rain stops. We just have to wait it out. After all, it’s only weather.
Eve’s Buddha Bowl 🏯🍋🥬🥑
/My eldest daughter has recently become a very healthy eater. She has also started taking an interest in learning how to cook. It’s been really fun this summer starting to teach her some basics. She really loves the independence that comes with making a meal, as well as the satisfaction of making something from scratch. One of her favorite dinners is this yummy bowl consisting of kale, quinoa, tofu, avocado, topped with some toasted slivered almonds. Bowls are great because they’re a meal but feel like a salad. For some reason a bowl is just a little more fun than a plate. These are Eve’s fave bowl ingredients, but def experiment with what you love. Ideally there should be a protein, a vegetable, and a starch if desired. I don’t like tofu so I’d make mine with a fried egg. A great family dinner idea is a Buddha Bowl Bar. This is also a really fun way to entertain. Just get cute bowls so guests can make their own.
Eve likes:
1/2 a cup to a cup of quinoa cooked according to package directions
Half an avocado cut into chunks
Two cups of chopped kale sautéed in olive oil and lightly seasoned with salt and pepper
A handful of toasted slivered almonds (toast on medium in a dry skillet until fragrant and golden brown)
Cubed and seasoned tofu
Now for the tofu, I use the kind that’s a firm block. I gently cut lengthwise then crosswise to make 1 inch cubes. I put them in a bowl and drizzle with olive or avocado oil, and I season with salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika, and dried Italian seasoning. Really just choose seasonings you like that you might use for chicken or fish. I carefully mix the tofu to distribute the spices. Then I heat a large skillet with three tbsp of the same oil I used for the marinade, and sear the cubes in a single layer. I add tablespoons of vegetable stock as the pan dries up to prevent the tofu from sticking. Shake pan occasionally to loosen the pieces. Gently flip each piece to get an even crust on each piece. One block of tofu makes a lot so you’ll have leftovers. After Eve assembles her bowl she likes to squeeze half a lemon over it, like mama. I became obsessed with during pregnancy since the citrus helps with nausea. Ok, maybe not the best idea to mention nausea in a food post.
Sew What?
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No one drops a “so what?” better than Kathy Griffin, after delivering sardonic wit at a blitzkreig pace. I hate that her career suffered after that whole Trump fiasco. As if anyone normal isn’t thinking the same thing, jeez. She’s always been one of my favorite comedians (gender irrelevant) and one of the best guests on Howard. Her book years ago was great too. Not all funny people can write. Speaking and writing are different skill sets. Back to fashion. I love embroidery, in part because I love handmade craftsmanship. While I have no idea if this dress was hand sewn, it looks like it was, which puts me in some yummy kind of zone. It’s amazing what a well placed belt can do to an oversized tee, a tunic (horrendous word), or any other potentially waist cinching piece.
It took me a long time to get the belt thing right. My sister in law Chaya has always been a black belt in belting. Again, it’s a skill set of sorts. She also cuffs a t shirt well, something I’m not good at but should be, like wrapping a gift. I love how versatile this perfect summer mini dress is. The burst of color off the white linen is fun and light. The bright green shoes are the perfect accompaniment. I have dressed this look up with a tailored pinstripe navy blazer. You can pretty much wear any shoe height here, event and time of day depending. This fresh frock just makes me happy. I love wearing it. It summarizes summer; light, airy, playful, colorful, delicious, and fun. I can’t believe how much black I used to wear in the summer. I now like being on the sunny side of the street.
Jazzed Dried Fruit
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Two reasons for this post title:
1) Some people throughout my life have called me Jazz as a nickname
2) The real reason is that “dried pears and plums in white chocolate, crushed pistachios, and granola” was simply way too long.
The feedback I got from the dried peaches in dark chocolate and slivered almonds was terrific, so I wanted to expand on that concept. Dried fruit dipped in various melted chocolates and toppings is a very fast and delicious dessert. It’s perfect for the summer since no oven is involved. This is very helpful if you live in an apartment. Who wants to add to sweltering heat in an apartment, right? These treats freeze and set quickly and can remain in the fridge for up to two weeks. Just layer them in between layers of parchment paper in an airtight container. I had one of the peaches every night for desert; I must have something sweet at the end of dinner. This is truly a guilt free treat. See how easy it is to do something delicious for yourself?
You’ll need:
Dried pears, dried plums, or two other kinds of your favorite dried fruit
A cup of your favorite granola
A cup and a half of shelled pistachios coarsely crushed
A bag of white chocolate chips melted in the microwave (around a minute, stir until smooth).
Directions:
Set up each component like a conveyer belt, so you can dip quickly and efficiently. Prepare a baking sheet by spraying it with nonstick spray, then pressing a piece of wax paper down flatly to cover the surface. Dip each pear in the white chocolate then the crushed nuts and place on the baking sheet. Do the same with the plums but using the granola this time. Freeze until it sets then keep in the fridge the way I mentioned above. Along with the peach recipe you now have a lovely assortment that really looks so pretty and professional. No real cooking required! This is a great recipe for kids who are interested in getting into the kitchen. Almost no steps but major results.
In Da Club
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Ok, third and final bar mitzvah look. I chose this five minutes before I left the house, and ran to meet the bus taking my son’s friends to the kids’ party at Marquee in New York. Much to his chagrin I wanted to ride the bus with the kids to ensure no one was left behind. Of course there were bus counselors but I felt I needed to be in mom mode. This entire weekend was so special. I was on such a high for 72 hours. After my son kicked butt reading his Torah portion, and I successfully delivered my speech off the cuff, I was ready to just relax and party. I hadn’t danced my butt off in awhile so it felt so good. I wanted to be cool but super comfortable. These shiny red liquid leggings from Norma Kamali never disappoint. I had just bought this rad new Scotch and Soda silk blazer the week before. The reds matched perfectly. The jacket gave me some breathing room over a navy lace bralette. My white Celine flat loafers with the subtle hardware nailed the entire look home. Seriously, go me for wearing flats to my own event. This ensemble really popped against the black backdrop of the nightclub. That wasn’t my intention but since most people came in black it was indeed nice to stand out as the hostess. It was a killer night. The music was great, the dancers were beyond talented and energetic, and every person there of any age had a blast. Every guest participated with a full heart the whole weekend. And that is what makes a milestone event beautiful. It’s true; you’re never fully dressed without a smile. And my son was beaming and soaking up his special moment, which he so deserved.
