H(om)e

Chicken Noodle Soup

2012-01-26T16:02:00.017-05:00

I have a cold. You know, the kind where you feel awful all over but sadly still good enough to function (not that many of us have a choice). When I was little, my Mom would make homemade chicken noodle soup and I would drink Coca-Cola from a plastic cup shaped like an ice cream sundae. Unfortunately I don't have my trusty sundae cup anymore, but I'm grateful for the unbelievable pot of chicken noodle soup I made yesterday. "Must keep going" is the mantra I chanted to myself as I hovered over the stove yesterday, knowing that the reward would be well worth the effort.

Great soup starts with a great stock, and there's nothing better than homemade. It's one of those things you can quickly prepare and then let simmer on the stove while you go on with the rest of your life. You can make it in advance and store in the freezer, or you can enjoy it right away. There's no right or wrong combination of ingredients, so use this list as a springboard to explore your own flavors. As an aside, your home will smell out-of-this-world.

Homemade Chicken Stock

-1 whole chicken

-handful of carrots

-handful of celery

-1 turnip

-2 onions

-1 head of garlic

-fresh italian parsley

-dried thyme

-generous salt and pepper

Don't even bother peeling the vegetables. Cut them in half and throw 'em in the pot. Add enough water to cover the chicken and most of the veggies. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat to a simmer and leave uncovered for anywhere from 2 to 4 hours. Drain through a colander and then through a fine sieve. You can skim the fat off the top before either pouring it into freezer-proof containers, or back into the pot to make soup on the spot!

The chicken will literally fall off the bone. If you're planning on freezing the stock, reserve the chicken for sandwiches and salads. If you're making soup right away, add the chicken back to the broth.

Chicken Noodle Soup

-use chicken from making the broth OR roasted chicken breasts*

-handful of carrots and celery, peeled and cut

-noodle of your choice

*Place bone-in, skin-on split chicken breasts in a baking dish and rub with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Cover and roast at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. Turn down the heat to 350 and roast uncovered for another 20 minutes.

A note about the noodles: you can certainly cook them in the broth, but I've found that they soak up all of the liquid and you're left with less stock. Bad news. I suggest cooking the noodles separately and adding them to the bowl before serving. Storing the stock and the noodles separately ensures that you'll get to enjoy all of that precious broth for days to come!

The Hole in the Sidewalk

2012-01-19T15:27:00.003-05:00

I have literally spent the last three weeks trying to compose an inspiring "New Year's" post. Every word has felt like pulling teeth and it's quite clear that even though my topic is definitive (and now, arguably outdated), I have no idea what I'm trying to say. I've tried writing in the morning, before the influence of caffeine. I've tried writing late at night, after the influence of Pinot Noir. Neither scenario has helped me to nail down a point. I've tried to just let it go—"So I won't say anything inspiring this January. Who cares!"—but I can't seem to move on. For fear that my poor blog might collect dust all year while I remain immobilized by writer's block, it seems that my only choice is to try and give birth to whatever it is that lies restless in my heart.

I feel ambivalent about New Year's because while I believe in the process of change, I'm hesitant to get behind the idea of New Year's resolutions—to lose five pounds, to find the perfect relationship, to achieve a specific goal—if said resolutions promise to hold the keys to eternal happiness. While I wholeheartedly believe that we should take advantage of a new beginning, when anything and everything feels possible, the pressure motivating us to "get there" implies that where we are right now is complete crap. And so I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place because the act of seeking contentment and the art of being content appear to come into direct conflict with one another. Hence my writer's block.

In my fervent quest to find something inspiring to say, I happened upon a poem by Portia Nelson entitled "Autobiography In Five Chapters." I've always loved it because of how simply and poignantly she describes the process of change. She uses the analogy of falling into a hole in the sidewalk and when I read it aloud in my classes, it struck a chord with so many of my students that I wanted to share it here.

Chapter 1

I walk down the street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I fall in.

I am lost ... I am helpless.

It isn't my fault.

It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter 2

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I pretend I don't see it.

I fall in again.

I can't believe I am in the same place.

But it isn't my fault.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter 3

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I see it is there.

I still fall in ... it's a habit.

My eyes are open.

I know where I am.

It is my fault.

I get out immediately.

Chapter 4

I walk down the same street.

There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.

I walk around it.

Chapter 5

I walk down another street.

I feel especially drawn to chapters 2 and 3. Chapter 2 is that place where I acknowledge my desire to change a pattern. Chapter 3 describes my seemingly uncontrollable return to exactly the pattern I claim to be so desperate to change. My first instinct is to blame others for being stuck ("She pushed me in. He made me jump!") but unfortunately I know better. The truth is, I choose to be there. And yet, when I'm in my hole, all I can really think about is getting out. I peer over the edge and imagine what life would be like when I get "there"—that place where everything will be okay—and suddenly I'm convinced that the only way I'll find contentment is by climbing out of the shadows and into the light.

Carrie Owerko often quotes BKS Iyengar in class, telling us that he believes that the weakest, tightest parts of a pose are the brain of the asana. This mode of thinking has changed the way I look at my yoga practice. I'm no longer interested in "getting there", because as long as I choose to do a pose for the sake of achieving it I will continue to miss the point. The study of my postural imperfections has allowed me to identify and apply the appropriate strategies to effect change on my mat and, while this entire paragraph may seem tangential, it dawned on me that perhaps a similar approach could be applied to that dark, cozy hole in the sidewalk. Maybe the hole's the place to be?

Determined to find out for myself, I dove into my hole armed with a fine-toothed comb and a pocket knife. As it turns out, you can only get to know the space if you're willing to turn on a light. The view was shocking but educational. Rather than following the usual protocol of strategizing an escape, I did something radical (for me, at least): I put up wallpaper, bought some throw pillows, and decided to reside in exactly the space I had vowed to avoid.

As you can probably imagine, parking oneself in the shadows of one's mind is no picnic, but as the yoga community continues to tell me that I should try to dwell in a place of love and light, I feel compelled to suggest that you do the exact opposite. The answers are written on the walls of that deep, dark hole in your sidewalk. Sutra 2.7 states, "Attachment is that which follows identification with pleasurable experiences." Whatever belief we water by returning to the hole is actually the brain of the entire operation. The process of dismantling those beliefs, one by one, is what catapults us forward into chapter 4, or better yet, chapter 5. Until we cultivate a tolerance for what "is"—an ability to soften in the face of darkness—we'll always believe that life could only be brighter if we get "there". I consistently have to remind myself that once I get "there", it will only end up being another "here". And so they say, "Wherever you go, there you are."

If, by this time next year, I'm still stuck in my hole, I'd like to think that I'll be able to rest down there with more ease and equanimity. Unraveling my beliefs has been the best yoga I've practiced in a long time, but it takes work. To quote BKS Iyengar again, "Practice (abhyasa) is a dedicated, unswerving, constant, and vigilant search into a chosen subject, pursued against all odds in the face of repeated failures, for indefinitely long periods of time. The discarding of ideas and actions which obstruct progress is vairagya [detachment]." My weakest links, my tightest parts, my holes in the sidewalk ... these are my chosen subjects, and my yoga is to find the courage to abandon the erroneous impressions which make me believe that I don't have a choice. To know that it is a choice is extremely empowering. Perhaps the act of seeking contentment is the practice of acceptance, because in a place of profound acceptance, earnest, lasting change can occur. I feel certain of one thing: the only way to embrace the brilliance within is to brave the darkness and turn on a light.

Smith and Chang General Goods

2011-12-16T10:59:00.010-05:00

My love affair with Smith and Chang General Goods (230 Pavonia Avenue, Jersey City) began with a classic Hollywood meet cute. Billy and I were on our way to Brooklyn to visit my sister and brother-in-law, and as we drove towards the Holland Tunnel I caught sight of a new store and yelled, "Stop the car!" He had barely applied the brakes when I swung my car door open in a mad dash for what I knew would be the shop of my dreams. It remains, to this day, one of my favorite stores of all time.

I've always loved the concept of a General Store. They remind me of my childhood trips to Oldwick, New Jersey—the town where my parents grew up—where we frequently returned to visit my grandparents' farm. Every time I step foot into the Oldwick General Store, with its creaky wide-plank floors and small town vibe, I'm instantly transported to the magic of my most beloved childhood memories. Smith and Chang brings me back to this very sacred place in my heart.

Alex Chang and Sawyer Smith have impeccable taste. Their store combines vintage American pieces with everyday essentials for the home. It's decidedly Colonial modern in feel, evident in the mix of brand new Lodge Cast Iron Cookware and antique brass furniture hardware and accessories. The space is beautiful—full of sunshine and propped to perfection. Many of my favorite belongings have come from their store: old tack boxes which I use in my kitchen to house cutlery and napkins; old yellowware bowls that I use for cooking; an old wooden towel rack; soaps, candles, and my favorite feather-topped pen.

Like all good stores, you leave with so much more than anything you could actually buy. I always walk out the door bursting with inspiration and a sense of community. Their new website captures the essence of the store, and what's even better is that you can shop online! There's something here for everyone on your list, so shop local, hunt for treasure, and be inspired.

Holiday Musing

2011-12-01T14:47:00.021-05:00

I just finished eating the last of the turkey in my fridge. I'm already going through turkey sandwich withdrawal—that perfect combination of cranberry sauce and mayonnaise oozing out the sides ... God. Thankfully, I wrote down my menu so I can enjoy the same mouth-watering leftovers next year.

Even though I kept things very low-key, I think my Thanksgiving anxiety always lies in the fact that 365 days have passed since I last manhandled a turkey. It's like Groundhog Day every year, and while it was helpful to have all of the recipes written down, what I really needed was some experienced advice from me to me. Something like, "Don't worry. Just think of it as a large chicken." Or, "You made the pies the night before which was pure genius. Instead of waking up at the crack of dawn, you sipped your cappuccino while watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Well played."

Since I kept my Thanksgiving menu simple, I had more time to play with setting the table. 'Tis the season to be crafty! I decided to do a big flower arrangement, inspired by an old, rustic bread bowl my grandmother gave me. When I arrange flowers I love to gather different sizes and textures, all within the same color scheme. I bought the hydrangea and the eucalyptus berries at WholeFoods while I was on my Thanksgiving grocery run. Eucalyptus berries are one of my favorite go-to flowers because they look great with everything and they're very low-maintence. A few days later I saw the small cabbage flowers at the farmers' market and thought they'd work well. I bought a floral oasis and a cheap plastic container at a store in the flower district (28th + 6th Ave) so I could just rest the base inside the bowl.

The arrangement looked really beautiful on the table.

The hydrangea dried perfectly in the oasis and so I saved them for my Christmas decorations. When Billy and I bought our Christmas tree, I scooped up a huge pile of tree trimmings that were just laying on the ground; they smell amazing and look great strewn around the house. I used some of the branches, along with the dried hydrangea, to make a holiday wreath for my front door. I bought a wire wreath frame today from the flower district (now you know where to find me when I'm not teaching yoga) and some winter berries, which I thought would made the Victorian-looking dried flowers more modern and fresh.

Ideally it's best to work on a table, but I actually sat in Malasana and experienced some killer hip opening whilst I crafted. Using garden shears, cut off 12" pieces of tree branches and wrap 3 to 4 together into a bunch. Lay each bunch across the wire frame and wrap with floral wire. Repeat all the way around the frame until you've created the fullness you desire. I think a simple, green wreath is really beautiful. Last year I used eucalyptus berries with the Fraser Fir branches and I loved the different textures, all in green.

A homemade wreath lends something unpredictable to holiday decorations. It's also a feat worth celebrating, and the finished product hangs like a trophy on your front door. "I made that," you'll say! They also make thoughtful, inexpensive gifts that mean so much because the recipient will think of you every time they walk into their home.

Have fun with your holiday decorations. Making them yourself will definitely put you in the spirit of the season. Creating beautiful things with your hands is just another form of artistic concentration and self-expression. It'll be your very own crafty, holiday meditation.

Orange Spice Aromatherapy

2011-11-20T17:12:00.008-05:00

It's getting chilly outside and my apartment windows are sadly more closed than open these days. Trading a fresh breeze for some warmth, my home starts to smell stale, what with the remnants of last night's dinner or the perfume of my beloved dog lingering in the air.

My remedy? A pot of boiling water simmering on the stove, filled with the peel of one orange, 1 t cinnamon, and a small handful of cloves. Your house will smell like a magical holiday wonderland. Staying toasty indoors has never smelled so good.

Tittibhasana

2011-11-17T14:50:00.013-05:00

Tittibhasana is a challenging asana, requiring an ability to simultaneously expand and contract. The inner thighs and hamstrings need to be open and supple, while the abdominals, hip flexors, and serratus anterior (responsible for spreading the shoulder blades apart) all need to be on call and ready to act. This pose gives us an opportunity to practice the balance between two opposing forces, teaching us that when we connect to our center, we gain the stability to fly off into boundless space.

Component Parts:

inner thighs

hamstrings

abdominals

spine

Actions:

protraction of scapulae

flexion of spine/hips

adduction of thighs (squeezing thighs into shoulders)

extension of leg at knee

Prep Poses:

Supine Knee Extensions - hold block behind thigh, press thigh forward into block and extend heel to ceiling to straighten knee

Supta Padangusthasana 1 + 2

Urdhva Prasarita Padasana

Cat pose into Chaturangasana

Garudasana arms

Downdog into Updog 3x - block between ankles, roll over toes

Downdog knee-to-nose, Downdog knee-to-outer arm

Parsvakonasana variation - hand on block inside foot, press knee/shoulder together

Standing vinyasa - Prasarita Padottanasana (concave spine) into Parsvottanasana into Lunge variation - both hands inside foot, press knee/shoulder together, lower back knee, option to lower forearms to blocks/floor. Repeat other side.

Malasana

Rolling Vinyasa (cover mat with blanket) - Tadasana, Urdhva Hastasana, Utkatasana, Malasana (arms reaching forward/inside thighs), roll on spine into Halasana (arms above head), roll up into Navasana, roll back into Halasana (arms above head), roll up into Utkatasana, Urdhva Hastasana, Tadasana

Marichyasana A

Baddha Konasana

Upavistha Konasana

Happy Baby + Half Happy Baby

Contraindications:

Wrist, shoulder, hamstring, or groin injuries. Sciatica or spinal herniations.

Props:

Blocks under hands for tight groins/upper back.

Stand in Tadasana with feet slightly wider than outer hip-width apart. Hinge at the hips, coming into Uttanasana. Weave the right hand through both legs and place it on the back of the right calf. It's helpful to create the shape of a "V" with your hand by separating the thumb and index finger. Use this hand position to press forward into the calf, leveraging the right shoulder behind the right thigh. Repeat with the left hand. Breathe well, using your exhales to continue shimmying your shoulders more and more behind your knees.

Strongly hug your shoulders with your thighs, allowing you to release your hands from your calves. Place your hands on the floor (or blocks) behind your feet. Slowly begin to shift the weight into your hands and "sit" on your arms. Push your hands into the floor and draw your abdomen in and up. Walk the feet towards one another and cross one ankle over the other. Continue to broaden your upper back as you simultaneously spread your collar bones. Pull the feet against each other and continue squeezing your thighs strongly into your arms. This is Bhujapidasana.

Concentrate on the feeling you had in the preparatory pose where you held the block behind your thigh, resisting yourself as you extended your heel up towards the ceiling. From Bhujapidasana, press your thighs down into your arms, as if they were the blocks, and extend your heels forward, straightening your knees. Hold for a few breaths and observe the play between drawing in towards yourself while expanding your chest and legs.

To release the body after the pose, try these counter postures:

Padahastasana

Gomukasana

Restorative Bridge

Supta Baddha Konasana

California Style

2011-11-13T11:34:00.012-05:00

I just got back from an amazing vacation in California, where my beloved and I spent a leisurely week driving down the coast (from San Fran to San Diego)! Highlights of the trip included a motorcycle ride through Sonoma, breathtaking views on Highway 1, and an amazing birthday dinner at Chez Panisse. The change of scenery and the laid-back, sunny vibe did my soul a world of good.

What I didn't expect was to be so totally smitten with California's effortless style. Relaxed, bright, and full of texture, everything felt fresh and of-the-moment. I came back East craving a complete overhaul of my home. Thankfully, small details can create major change and so I've pinpointed some of the style elements I fell in love with on my trip.

Black and Gold

This is a picture of the lobby at the Sheraton in Santa Monica. I loved everything about the decor.

Back in NYC, I found these black and gold lamps at ABC Carpet & Home. They're also hanging at J.Crew on 5th Avenue.

The base of this lamp from Restoration Hardware is made of mercury glass, but the lampshade's gold inlay casts a warm glow and creates the illusion of antique brass.

Succulents

There were succulent gardens everywhere, both wild and tame. They would look beautiful inside an apartment.

Natural Wood

The boardwalk at Pebble Beach.

I saw tons of wine barrel chandeliers on my trip. I love the modern feel of the one below from ABC Carpet & Home. You can find more traditional versions at Restoration Hardware. John Derian sells antique ones that will make you weak in the knees.

A stack of wooden cutting boards at ABC.

Texture

Artwork looks striking against the dark linen wallpaper. The textured fabric adds warmth and dimension to a room.

White-on-White

I saw tons of art displayed in white mat/white frame. This giant collection of black and white prints looks great against the seagrass wallpaper. You can find white-on-white framing at Pottery Barn, West Elm, etc. This is definitely the easiest and cheapest way to update the look of your decor.

Lacquer

Lacquer is probably one of my favorite design elements because it instantly updates a more traditional home. The glossy texture covered everything, from furniture to accessories. I bought the white tray from West Elm to store my jewelry. The ceramic bowls with gold inlay are from one of my favorite NYC stores, Ochre.

Butternut Squash Risotto

2011-10-02T18:07:00.008-04:00

Today was sublime...the kind of sublime that can only be appreciated when juxtaposed with what feels like months (and months) of non-stop work. My gratitude arrived the moment I woke up and stared at my alarm clock. 10am! The sun was shining and that crisp Fall air put a pep in my step. I had the entire day to myself—no work, no obligations—and I felt relieved to have this precious time to refill my well.

I spent the afternoon in my kitchen, experimenting and channeling my energy and inspiration from the autumn weather into something I hoped would taste as good as I felt. Craving a good, earthy dish expressive of the season, I decided to make butternut squash risotto. It's still light, like the weather, but introduces the heartier tastes of Fall.

Everyone needs to know how to make risotto. I know...you're scared, but you need to roll up your sleeves and try. You must, otherwise you're going to miss out on this killer recipe (and succumb to your limited beliefs about your abilities in the kitchen). I'm not sure which is worse.

The key to risotto is practice, patience, and faith. You need to get used to the feel of risotto—its nuances, personality, and texture—and so you should commit to making it often. The beauty of risotto is that is has hundreds of incarnations and so you can change the stock and the accessory ingredients to reflect your tastes. Patience is a virtue; it's about 30 minutes of non-stop action start to finish. Faith comes in towards the end, right at the point when you're convinced it's never going to come together and that you should quit while you're ahead. That's when you have to keep moving forward. It's just like in yoga: when you come up against a challenge, do more of the right thing.

The foundation of risotto is actually pretty simple. It's important to have all of your mise en place prepared because once you begin, you can't stop. Cut one butternut squash into 1-inch cubes and toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast in a 400 degree oven for 30-40 minutes. Finely chop one shallot. Pour 7 cups of stock (your choice: chicken or vegetable) into a pot and bring to a gentle boil.

Melt 2 T of butter in a large pot or Dutch oven (note: put "le Crueset" on your holiday wish list) and sauté the shallots plus 5-10 bay leaves. Add salt and pepper. Once the shallots are translucent, add 1 1/2 cups of Arborio rice and toss for 3-5 minutes. This is the moment when the rice takes on the flavors in the pot, so as you begin to experiment with risotto, you can add different herbs and spices at this point in the process. (Note: saffron would also work well with the butternut squash.)

Now we need to seal in the flavors. Add 1/2 cup of Prosecco and stir until all of the liquid is absorbed. You can also use white wine, but my Italian friend, Pietro, taught me how to make risotto using Prosecco and I think it adds a subtle sweetness, creating a lighter dish.

The rest is history. Add between 1/2 - 1 cup of the hot stock at a time, stirring constantly until all of the broth is absorbed. You will most likely end of using about 5 of the initial 7 cups of stock, but it's always good to have extra liquid available, just in case things don't quite turn out as planned. Taste the risotto as you go, testing the flavor and checking to see where you are in the cooking process. You want the rice to be cooked through but still al dente. The risotto will start coming together gradually, but by the last ladle of stock you will see the signature, creamy texture of a risotto dish. Take one last taste and season accordingly with salt and pepper.

Add the roasted butternut squash and a heaping pile of parmesan cheese (how much, exactly, is up to you). I used vegetable stock today, but it would also taste divine with chicken stock and maybe some sauteed pancetta.

My final thoughts regarding your adventure in risotto are to draw on your experiences from the yoga mat. It's like coming up into a handstand: don't just sit there, strategizing the pose and psyching yourself out. You've gotta kick, dammit. You'll have as much fun with your failures as you will with your triumphs, so crack open a bottle of Prosecco and start cooking!

Homemade Cards

2011-09-30T17:27:00.007-04:00

These homemade cards are a great alternative to the expensive options at many stores. I love sifting through vintage photographs at flea markets where you can find sweet, unique, and sometimes hilarious snapshots that make perfect cards for any occasion.

This one is priceless...

I buy blank paper stock and photo corners at Paper Presentation. They make hundreds of different colors, sizes, and shapes.

Tie a stack of homemade cards with a ribbon and you have a beautiful, thoughtful gift.

My Beloved Egg and Cheese

2011-08-28T21:27:00.013-04:00

Someone just recently asked me to name my favorite food of all time. That's a big question. At first I felt a surprising amount of pressure to come up with something impressive—something that would wow their pants off—but then, after I took a step back, I realized that my favorite food is actually quite humble in nature. My heart is eternally devoted to the egg and cheese sandwich. I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It would be my last meal. One might say I'm a connoisseur.

One of my favorite incarnations of the classic egg and cheese sandwich is this Italian-inspired slice of perfection. It's a great meal for brunch or a simple dinner. It couldn't be simpler to make: delicately poached eggs served over garlic-smeared bread smothered in marina sauce and topped with parmesan cheese and fresh parsley. Need I say more? It is beyond divine, good for the soul, and exactly what you should make when you need to smile from somewhere deep inside.

Recipe inspired by Giada DeLaurentiis

Strawberry Shortcake

2011-07-04T10:26:00.010-04:00

Today's the perfect day to enjoy a classic American dessert (and one of my all-time favorites): Strawberry Shortcake! I love this recipe because it's quick and easy to make. Chances are you already have all of the ingredients in your kitchen.

As with any baking endeavor, it's helpful to get organized. First things first: place one stick of unsalted butter into the freezer about a half hour before you're ready to start. Make sure your kitchen counters are clean (to roll out the dough) or if you're short on counter space, place a sheet of floured parchment paper over a large cutting board. Clean and cut the strawberries, to which I highly recommend you add a tiny bit of crushed black pepper and a few teaspoons of balsamic vinegar. Trust me.

Now we're ready to start! Mix 2 cups plus 2 T flour, 1/2 t salt, 1 T baking powder, and 3 T sugar in a food processor. Cut your frozen butter into small cubes and add to the flour mixture, pulsing until the butter is the size of peas. It's important that you can still see chunks of butter in the dough because when the ice cold butter hits the hot oven the water content from the butter will quickly evaporate, creating a flaky and scrumptious shortcake. If you don't have a food processor, you can grate the frozen butter into the flour mixture and use your hands to mix everything together.

In a small bowl, whisk 1 egg into a 1/2 cup light cream. (I didn't have any "light" cream, so I just mixed heavy cream with the 2% milk I had in the fridge ... et voilà, light cream!) Add the creamy egg mixture to the food processor, little by little, until the dough comes together. Turn out the dough onto your lightly floured counter (or cutting board) and press into a flat ball with your hands. Be careful not to overwork the dough; it's not a pizza. Lightly flour your rolling pin and roll out the dough until it's about a 1/2 inch thick. Use the rim of a drinking glass to cut out your shortcakes and then transfer them to a cookie sheet. Place them in the fridge for 15-20 minutes to allow the dough to chill after having been worked and heated by your hands. I've never regarded the timeframe as an exact science, and I usually take them out of the fridge when I start getting impatient. This method seems to work for me!

While your shortcakes are chilling, preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Right before you're ready to put them in the oven, brush a little whisked egg white over the shortcakes and sprinkle with sugar, giving them a sparkly crust. Bake for 15 minutes, or until they're lightly golden. Allow to cool on a wire rack.

To serve, slice the shortcakes lengthwise and place a spoonful of strawberries onto the bottom half. Add a healthy (read generous) dollop of whipped cream and place the "lid" on top, creating a strawberry shortcake sandwich. The results are over-the-moon delicious. You will want to put on your bathing suit and dive in. Happy Fourth of July!

Recipe courtesy of Nigella Lawson.

Bucks County Weekend

2011-07-03T14:46:00.002-04:00

Bucks County is one of my favorite places to visit when I need to just get away. Besides being the home of my beloved Hamilton's Grill Room (and only an hour from Manhattan), Bucks County has tons of shops, activities, and scenic beauty to brighten your heart for the weekend.

The Woolverton Inn is our home away from home. Carolyn and Bob are the doting innkeepers of this gorgeous estate in Stockton, New Jersey. The rooms are so cozy and the surrounding countryside invites a much-needed exhale from city life. We stay in the Garden Cottage, where pets are allowed. Ellie loves the accommodations.

Also in Stockton is Phillips' Fine Wines, an experience in and of itself. The owner, Dick Phillips, is the most delightful man; he gave us a tour of the store, which feels more like a wine library with its tiny rooms and hidden hallways. My eyes lit up when he told us stories about Julia Child and her frequent visits to Phillips' when Dick was a kid (Julia and her beloved, Paul, were married in Stockton). Perhaps she came here to buy those "full-bodied young red wine[s]" with which she would make her famous Boeuf Bourgingnon ...

Right next store to Phillips' is the Stockton Farmers' Market, home to local vendors selling everything from fresh produce to specialty products. Open only on the weekends, the market is a feast for the eyes (and the stomach)!

Nearby in Lambertville I found a great housewares shop called Zinc Home and Garden (74 Bridge Street). The modern farmhouse style was right up my alley! You'll find an amazing collection of industrial and vintage pieces displayed with an inspiring dose of creativity.

When you're done with your shopping I highly recommend a walk along the Delaware River—the perfect Sunday morning activity before heading home—where you can take in the views and connect with things exactly as they are.

Perhaps the greatest part of any weekend adventure is the fact that you can arrive without an agenda. Billy and I love the aimless wandering and the process of making a new place our own. In New York I often find it hard to separate myself from the rhythm of the city, whereas in a foreign town I can be immersed in a new place and yet remain present in my own experience. After a weekend in Bucks County I feel relaxed and completely reconnected. I hope you find the same!

Hamilton's Grill Room

2011-06-17T19:48:00.005-04:00

There are those meals that are so extraordinary—the food, the ambiance, the experience—that you just have to thank the chef. I had the pleasure of thanking such a chef after enjoying an amazing meal at a charming restaurant we found in Lambertville, New Jersey. Hamilton's Grill Room is tucked away at the end of a small dirt alley, the likes of which usually appear suspect but often hide a town's most prized gems. The restaurant is perched on the banks of the Delaware River and shares its alley with a quirky yet sophisticated bar, The Boat House, where I felt transported back to a different time (think old-fashioned cocktail hour meets nautical shack).

As I walked through the door into Hamilton's Grill Room, my eyes were immediately drawn to an upside-down tree hanging from the ceiling. Creatively smothered in tiny white lights, the whimsical chandelier cast a glow over the already cozy space. It was a cold January night and I sought refuge next to the fire, warming up with a little help from the bottle of Cabernet we purchased at Phillip's Fine Wines. What I loved most about this restaurant was how it seemed to be the anchor of the community; regulars settled into their favorite tables and dove into genuine conversation with the staff, who greeted each patron with the kind of warmth you'd expect from a good friend. A fixture in the lives of Lambertvillians for over twenty years, Hamilton's feels like a home away from home.

Five months later, my genuine gratitude for that unforgettable meal led to an inspiring interview with Chef Mark Miller. I sat down with Mark at his post (and the heart of the restaurant): the grill. With only a few stools at the small island overlooking the hearth, I couldn't help but think that these were the best seats in the house. Mark agreed, adding, "I love meeting the customers. It's a great set-up." We talked about food and family as I watched him prepare for the dinner rush. I felt truly inspired by Mark because his love of cooking goes beyond the process itself. His yoga is the joy of feeding others and the communion that happens when people gather around a table and enjoy good food.

Listening to Mark describe his history with Hamilton's Grill Room, it became obvious that it was love at first sight. "I worked across the river at Martine's for a while, then someone told me that there was a job opening at Hamilton's. I met Jim and saw the way the food was prepared and fell in love ... big time." Miller's passion is palpable and has clearly played a role in catapulting his career from formally untrained cook to Executive Chef and respected pillar of this beloved restaurant.

Our interview took place during the staff dinner, which was cooked by none other than the owner, Jim Hamilton—a Broadway set designer turned restauranteur. (Jim's daughter, NYTimes best-selling author Gabrielle Hamilton, owns her own restaurant, Prune, in New York.) Mark told me that Jim uses Saturday nights to experiment in the kitchen, testing recipes for the menu. As I observed these two men interact I could sense the deep respect and fierce loyalty Mark holds for Jim. In that moment I understood why I had fallen in love with this place: it's all about family.

I asked Mark about his favorite flavor combinations, a question I was inspired to ask after watching him rub the most amazing rosemary garlic marinade over the evening's lamb chops. "Anchovies," he responded, which served as an amusing reminder to myself of how easy it is to get stuck in flavor ruts; his response caught me totally off guard as I had never considered anchovies to be a flavor! "This restaurant was built on anchovies," he explained (referring to Jim Hamilton's famous Shrimp with Anchovy Butter appetizer).

He revealed that appetizers are, in fact, his favorite dish to cook. "It's the first thing people eat and it sets the tone for the entire meal, " Miller explained. He also articulated the importance of quantity, saying, "I like to leave people wanting one more bite." Mark recommended the appetizer special for that evening: fresh artichokes from California stuffed with crabmeat. Phenomenal.

Our meal was amazing. Billy, being the true cowboy that he is, ordered the cowboy steak which was prepared in a bordelaise sauce and served with onion rings (which were replaced—thanks to the kind souls in the kitchen—with Billy's mandatory steak accompaniment: mashed potatoes). I ordered the lamb chops and each bite literally melted in my mouth.

It should also be said that the staff is beyond lovely. Everyone from the manager, Reed, and the hostess, Nancy, to the to the wonderful waiters (ask for James or Chris) went above and beyond the call of duty to make us feel at home. I haven't found a restaurant like this in a long time and I'm looking forward to cherishing heartfelt meals at Hamilton's again and again.

Anniversary Dinner

2011-05-06T17:35:00.001-04:00

Billy and I celebrated our anniversary last week with a homemade dinner and a great bottle of wine. I have to say, it was exactly what I wanted—simple, delicious, loving—and I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend the evening.

On the menu? Mussels in white wine, shallots, and garlic over linguine. I made a frisée salad with warmed cherry tomatoes and a simple vinaigrette. Only now will I admit that I used Vegenaise in the dressing. Had I mentioned this the other night Billy would have vetoed the salad on mere principal. Hey, I've learned to be cunning in the kitchen over the years.

Give the mussels a good cleaning. If you find any open mussels, give them a good tap on your kitchen counter; any that don't close on their own need to be thrown away.

While you're boiling the linguine, finely chop 2 shallots, 5 cloves of garlic, and a 1/2 cup of parsley. Heat 1/2 cup of olive oil on medium-high heat. Add the shallots and sauté for a few minutes until soft. Then add the garlic, stirring constantly, careful not to burn.

Now for the moment of truth! Dump the mussels into the pot along with 1/2 cup white wine, half the the parsley you chopped, and a generous amount of salt and pepper. Cover and cook for 6 minutes. Discard any shells that haven't opened.

Plate the linguine and pour the mussels on top. You can thicken the sauce with a tablespoon or so of butter. Sprinkle with parsley.

This meal couldn't be any simpler. You will love it. Bon appetite!

Easter Basket

2011-04-22T18:42:00.009-04:00

Inspired by the hope of Spring and memories of chocolate-filled Easter baskets from my childhood, I had fun dreaming up unique gifts to offer your host (or mother) this Sunday. I found this beautiful porcelain produce basket at Anthropologie (you can also buy something similar online) and decided to fill it to the brim with goodies. My very own mother came up with the brilliant idea to use shredded grocery bags as filler (genius). I can't think of a more creative way to recycle!

First I made a traditional Easter basket stuffed with chocolate from Jacques Torres. Let's be honest...who wouldn't want to receive this as a gift?

For the goddess of hearth and home, a basket filled with a bird's nest and dyed Easter eggs.

I think this collection of herbs and sea salt would be the perfect gift for a passionate gourmand(e).

Once the treats find their rightful home, the basket can be used to store produce in the fridge.

Have fun creating something personal for your host or hostess. A gesture like this—festive, thoughtful, and practical—is a genuine way to show your gratitude.

Springspiration

2011-04-01T11:20:00.007-04:00

While Spring has decided to hold out on us a little while longer, I've taken matters into my own hands with some "springspiration" for my home. Sure, it may be snowing outside, but the season is alive and well inside my apartment. Here are a few simple ideas to brighten up your space.

The easiest way to capture the essence of Spring is to bring nature indoors. Fresh flowers arranged in large, wild bunches add a bit of unkempt beauty to an otherwise ordinary table or countertop. I love the gorgeous Garden Roses below (and they smell outrageous). The bowl of lemons in an old ironstone bowl add color to my black side table.

These huge pink branches make a statement and yet feel natural, as if they're growing in my apartment.

It's time to put away the wool throws and the dark, heavy fabrics in favor of fresh patterns and textures. My favorite design is Ikat—which has been a popular trend for the past few years—because it really pops against a neutral palette. I have a blue Ikat pillow on my couch that always feels new. No matter where I put it, it brightens up the room.

You can utilize color in simple ways without having to commit to a complete overhaul of your home. Choose "goes with everything" colors like red or cobalt blue (which is the color of this season, both in fashion and interior design). My red French apron hangs in my kitchen and has become part of the decor. I use the old, red-striped tea towel everyday.

I bought the blue chair from a friend years ago and I think it works well juxtaposed with the browns and lucite. I love the mix of old and new.

The last idea just makes me so happy I could scream. I think one of the fastest ways to update your house for spring is to outfit your bed with crisp, white sheets. It's like diving into a clean, blank slate. You don't have to spend a lot of money; the sheets on my guest room bed are from Target. Of course there's always linen (by now you should know about my vintage linen obsession). Restoration Hardware has a a beautiful collection of Belgian linen bedding; I especially love the big linen duvet. An all-white bed is definitely my idea of heaven.

All of this to say, don't waste anymore time waiting for Spring to arrive. Take charge of your own personal indoor climate by bringing the fresh, light qualities of the season into your home. Maybe it will even inspire warmer weather and sunnier days!

Get Springy

2011-03-28T21:14:00.008-04:00

I'm sure I speak for the entire Northeast when I say that I am done, done, done with this cold weather. At least today it's sunny outside. Last week was just obnoxious—rain, wind, biting cold—and as I trudged through the unforgiving remnants of winter I felt a bottomless black hole in my soul.

I begrudgingly climbed out of my weather-induced funk (because, let's face it, sometimes it's just easier—and secretly more fulfilling—to wallow down there in the darkness) by cultivating the opposite. Baby, it may be as cold as the Arctic tundra outside but gosh darn-it I was determined to make it warm and springy in my heart. Craving something fresh, I dove into the creation of a lemon curd tart. The recipe is easy but promises to wow a crowd; your guests will say, "Wait, you made this?" You'll need the following tools: a false-bottom tart pan, a food processor, and a zester.

I love the tart shell recipe because it's basically shortbread cookie dough that you press into the bottom of a tart pan with your fingers. Cream 1 1/2 sticks of room temperature, unsalted butter with 1/2 cup of sugar and then add 1/2 t of vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine 1 3/4 c of flour with a pinch of sea salt. Slowly add the flour mixture to the butter/sugar, using your hands to mush it all together. Note: You can use a mixer but I find it exorbitantly more satisfying to do it with my hands (plus it allows you to work out your winter aggression). Once the dough has formed, press it into a flat disk using the palm of your hand. Transfer the dough to the tart pan and mold it to the inside of the pan using your fingers. Remember, you're basically making a shortbread cookie so you don't want it to be too thick or you'll have to eat the tart with a steak knife. Stick the tart pan in the fridge to chill, then preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Once chilled, butter one side of aluminum foil and place the foil (buttered side down) into the tart shell. Fill the shell with beans (I keep a tin of beans in my cupboard for just this purpose.) Bake for 20 minutes and then remove the beans and bake for another 20 minutes (or until the tart shell is lightly browned). Set it aside to cool and meanwhile get crackin' on the lemon curd.

In a food processor, combine 1 1/2 c of sugar with the zest of four lemons. Mix 1 stick of room temperature, unsalted butter with your homemade lemon sugar until smooth. Add four eggs (one at a time) until combined. Then add 1/2 c lemon juice (which you extracted from your zested lemons) and a pinch of salt.

At this point you will look down at your lemon concoction and see a curdled mess, which will send you into a state of panic that I must advice you to rise above. You have not messed it up. Take a deep breath and transfer your sad, curdled batter to a sauce pan where you need to slowly cook it over medium-low heat for upwards of ten minutes. You must man the stove and stand there stirring the pot. It will start to thicken (enough to coat a wooden spoon). I admit I've grown impatient from time to time and turned up the heat when I don't see anything happening. I ended up with scrambled eggs. So again, I must advice you to hold tight and breathe (you can turn up the heat a little bit, but don't get too greedy).

Pour your lemon curd into your homemade tart shell ("Why yes, I made this from scratch"). Let it set at room temperature for a few hours. It's beautiful as it is but you can also get creative by decorating the top with berries. The taste is divinely fresh and zingy. It may be chilly outside folks, but it'll be warm and springy in your soul.

City Bakery

2011-02-26T18:51:00.000-05:00

There are a few magical New York landmarks that've stolen my heart. This particular gem has been my home away from home for over eight years. An innovative twist on the classic cafeteria, City Bakery is a mecca for the foodie. Their blueberry corn muffin is a staple in my diet. My favorite bakery celebrated their 20th anniversary on December 8th, 2010 and we toasted their success with champagne and mac ’n’ cheese (of course).

I recently sat down with baker extraordinaire (and fellow Baltimorian) Maury Rubin to delve into the man behind the famous pretzel croissant. Maury discovered his passion for pastry on a vacation to France (bien sûr). His serendipitous trip to the French countryside was the beginning of a new path which ultimately transformed this two-time Emmy winner for sports broadcasting at ABC into a veritable pastry guru. "I had planned to do television for the rest of my whole professional life, but knew I didn't like the collaborative part of it," explains Rubin. "Watching this guy [Denis Ruffel] make pastry out of butter, flour, and eggs...that was an especially appealing process; it's you, your brain, and your hands."

Inspired by the yoga––the process––of making pastry, Maury embarked on a year-long apprenticeship in Paris (sigh) and then returned home, anxious to explore the pastry shops of New York only to discover that they fell short of his expectations. "I began to realize how much I'd learned and [that period] became about deciding that I could actually do this." His eyes lit up as he described the beginning of City Bakery. "I spent three years imagining the bakery, conceiving the bakery, and raising money, and we opened in December 1990. I made a good business decision by being close to the farmers' market and I didn't know how fabulous the timing would be because that market was the impetus for the refurbishment of the entire neighborhood. I picked the perfect spot and rode a very big wave."

Following in the footsteps of Alice Waters, Maury took the concept of local/organic/seasonal restaurants and applied it to his bakery. Collaborating with the farmers of the Greenmarket, Rubin laid the foundation for his ever-expanding collection of bakeries. In fact, Birdbath takes the green factor to the next level, infusing consciousness into every layer of the business from the rickshaw pedal delivery to the materials used in building the space. They even offer a 25% discount if you arrive by bicycle or skateboard! I asked Maury when his passion for the environment took root. "In third grade. Someone came and gave an assembly on the pollution of the Chesapeake Bay and that stayed with me. That was my touchstone moment."

Homemade Marshmallows hanging from the ceiling.

I often find myself tucked away in his bakery, watching the world go by, and I'm struck by the community he's created. Fellow New Yorkers can find solace in their collective love of butter, flour, and eggs. The 19th Annual Hot Chocolate Festival is on as we speak, with a different flavor hot chocolate for each day (today, for example, is "Tropical Hot Chocolate"). Being in the midst of this great beacon of baked goods reminds me of the power of creativity. Maury's yoga is his devotion to the creative process. "I love that I get to think about ideas and then make them happen." It's a treat to see his ideas take shape and I, for one, look forward to the continued evolution of my beloved bakery.

Valentine's Day Truffles

2011-02-14T08:39:00.009-05:00

This recipe was inspired during a recent trip to Balthazar while practicing sutra 2.33, proving once again that good things happen when you do your yoga. These truffles make a beautiful Valentine's Day gift. I found the small, heart-shaped box at Kate's Paperie; it's the perfect size for your special someone. I had a lot of fun playing with chocolate and tweaking the recipe. Believe me, I tested each and every one with you in mind.

Rum Chocolate Truffles

4 bars of Green & Black's 70% Dark Chocolate Bars
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 t vanilla
1 T espresso (or hot brewed coffee)
3 T dark rum

Finely chop the chocolate and place in a bowl. Bring the heavy cream to a boil and then turn off the heat, letting the cream sit for 30 seconds. Pour the cream into the chocolate and slowly stir. Make this a meditation, watching intently as the chocolate melts. Pour in the vanilla, espresso, and rum, stirring well after each addition. Then go live your life for an hour, letting the chocolate rest on the counter to harden.

When you return, scoop out a spoonfuls of chocolate and shape them into small balls. Place the truffles on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet and chill them in the fridge for a half hour. I was able to make 35 truffles with this recipe (so either you have lots of valentines or one very lucky person – perhaps yourself – who'll get to enjoy massive amounts of chocolate).

I rolled the truffles in either cocoa powder, coconut or a homemade orange sugar (1/2 c sugar and the zest of one orange, mixed finely with a food processor). Roll the truffles in your hands to heat the chocolate slightly and then roll them (pressing slightly, especially with the coconut) in your chosen topping. I found these pretty paper baking cups at Sur La Table and thought they were so festive for Valentine's Day.

I know you're going to love the combination of rum and orange sugar and the rum and coconut. Savor every bite!

Will Practice for Cookies

2011-02-11T15:04:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I escaped the cold and popped into Balthazar to grab a cappuccino. I was in a hurry and felt relieved to see that the small, cheerful bakery was nearly empty. With only one woman in front of me, I knew I'd be able to get in and out in a New York minute. As I waited in line I couldn't help but eye the heart-shaped linzer cookies stacked on a tray in front of me. Dusted in powdered sugar with their glistening bright-red jam, they beckoned me to take them home.

Staring at those gorgeous cookies, lost in thought, I was unaware of the scene unfolding at the cashier. The woman in front of me was quickly proving herself to be a high-maintenance nightmare. "No, I wanted 2 sugar, 2 strawberry, 6 pistachio and 5 chocolate. You don't have strawberry? But she said you had strawberry donuts. Oh well, then fine...I'll take 3 sugar, 5 pistachio, 2 chocolate and some croissants". Her voice grated on my nerves. She barked her order and seemed to lack tact or class (or perhaps a little of both). I immediately lumped her into the pile where I put all unconscious, obnoxious people and was about to give her my standard "I want you to know just how much I disapprove of your behavior" stare. The minutes were adding up and I reassessed just how badly I wanted my beloved cappuccino.

The pros (a jolt of caffeine whose taste would transport me to Paris) outweighed the cons (being in the same room with this woman). Here was my opportunity to practice yoga and so I did the only thing I could manage in that moment; I breathed. Focusing on my breath, I concentrated on sutra 1.33: "By cultivating attitudes of friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and disregard toward the wicked, the mind retains its undisturbed calmness." Hey, it was worth a shot (of espresso).

I stood there breathing and trying to soften in the presence of the wicked and felt grounded by my efforts. There was nothing I could do about the fact that she was still ordering baked goods with an air of superiority. The only thing I could control was my reaction. I chose to disregard her and fixate, instead, on those supremely divine linzer cookies. I thought about Valentine's Day and let my imagination take me to my kitchen where I dreamed of making chocolate truffles dipped in cocoa powder. I melted and found my own inner calm by redirecting my attention (sutra 2.33).

As the cashier rang up this wicked woman, she caught a glimpse of me standing there with my lone cappuccino and stopped what she was doing. Moving like the wind, she started putting various goodies into a small bag: a few Madeleine's, a couple of donuts and one of those beautiful heart-shaped linzer cookies. I held my breath. Could it be? Was I about to be rewarded for good behavior...for practicing my yoga in the face of skin-crawling adversity? The cashier handed me the small bag and said "Thank you so much for being so patient and kind. Normally people start yelling and complaining, but you were just so patient. Thank you."

You're welcome. Thank you, chère Balthazar and you crazy New Yorker (who, by the way, hopped into her chauffeured car after I held the door for her, which of course she refused to acknowledge) for allowing me to practice my yoga. The cookie was a delicious reminder to look at each obstacle as an opportunity to practice.

Sunday Beef Stew

2011-01-29T17:04:00.008-05:00

I'm lucky to have in my possession a 1966 edition of Julia Child's Mastering The Art Of French Cooking and one of my favorite recipes therein is her classic Boeuf Bourguignon. It's the quintessential winter stew and perfect for a snowy weekend. I've tweaked the recipe and made it my own by adding potatoes and creating an extra thick gravy. I cook the entire meal in my trusty Le Creuset cast iron pot. This recipe is a step-by-step process, offering you an opportunity to practice passionate attention. Be sure to buy a big loaf of bread because you're going to want to wipe the bowl clean.

Preheat your oven to 450 degrees.

Sear 1 1/2 - 2 lbs of your choice of meat (cut into 1 inch cubes, patted dry with paper towels so it will brown nicely). I've found that the meat won't brown as well if the pan is overcrowded. Sear in batches with a tiny bit of olive oil. You'll know when the sides are browned because they will unstick from the bottom of the pan, making themselves available to be turned. Transfer your browned beef into a bowl by the stove.

Sauté a chopped onion in the same pan until soft (approximately 10 minutes). Add carrots and potatoes (peeled and cut into one inch pieces). Sauté for 10-15 minutes.

Return the beef to the pan. Add 1 t of salt and 1/4 t of pepper. Sprinkle in 2 T of flour and lightly toss to coat the beef. Place your uncovered pan in the oven and cook for 4 minutes. Stir the pot and cook for another 4 minutes. Julia writes, "This browns the flour and covers the meat with a light crust."

Turn your oven down to 325 degrees.

Now the fun part! Add 3 cups of "full-bodied young red wine". The wine decision can feel daunting. I've made this recipe with various bottles and then one day I just happened to grab what I thought was a "cheap" red wine and was surprised to discover that it created the most flavorful stew to date! I'm now eternally devoted to Radical Red from The Organic Wine Works, a sulfite-free choice from my local liquor store. Add enough beef broth (I prefer Imagine's Organic) to just barely submerge the contents of your stew. Bring to a simmer and add 1 crumbled bay leaf, 1/2 t of thyme and 2 crushed garlic cloves.

Put the lid on the pot and cook for three hours. Your house will smell like stew heaven.

I usually add a beurre manié to thicken the sauce before I serve. Mix 2 T flour with 2 T butter to create a paste and add to the cooked stew, which will thicken almost immediately. You can add more beurre manié until you reach your desired consistency.

Chicken Pot Pie

2011-01-23T13:07:00.012-05:00

This weekend has been all about nourishing my soul. Chilled to the bone, exhausted from a marathon of teaching and desperate to unwind, I dove into cooking the way some might dive into Supta Baddha Konasana. The choice of what to make was simple: it was, without a doubt, a chicken pot pie kind of weekend. The ultimate comfort food, I found solace in puffed pastry and the krama (step-by-step) of making this classic dish. It's beyond divine and will make you warm and fuzzy all over.

Grocery List

unsalted butter

1 onion

3 yukon gold potatoes (or a bag of the small, bite-sized potatoes)

carrots

whole chicken

chicken stock

milk

puffed pastry (I love Dufour, which you can find at Whole Foods)

Defrost the puffed pastry at room temperature for an hour or two. You can cut the pastry to cover individual ovenproof bowls, or you can use the entire sheet to top a baking dish. Flour your working surface and your rolling pin and roll out the pastry so it's large enough to hang over the sides and stick to your serving piece. (Note: If the pastry feels gooey or starts to stick despite the flour, don't panic. It just needs to chill in the refrigerator for a little bit.) Brush off any excess flour and set aside the pastry on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Prepare an egg wash (whisk one egg and a splash of milk). Chill the the pastry and egg wash in the refrigerator while you're cooking the filling.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Bring a large pot of water to boil and add the whole chicken. It'll take about 20-30 minutes to cook. In the meantime, sauté the chopped onion in 5 T of butter for approximately 10 minutes. Add your cut potatoes and carrots (as many carrots as you'd like) and cook between 10-15 minutes. Deglaze the pan with 1/2 cup of cognac (the smell will make your soul sing). 5 T of flour will coat your vegetables and thicken the sauce. Add 2 cups of chicken stock and 1 cup of milk. Bring to a boil.

At this point your chicken should be cooked. Carefully remove it from the water and let it cool enough so you can pull it apart into big, hearty pieces. Add the chicken to the pot of boiling goodness. Lower the heat to a simmer and add thyme, salt and pepper to taste.

The last step requires efficiency and speed, so know what you're getting yourself into before you start. Pour the filling into your chosen serving piece, right up to the edge (so your pastry will have something to rest on). Using a brush (or your finger), paint a 1-inch layer of egg wash (your glue) onto the perimeter of your pastry. Cut a hole in the center to allow the steam to escape. You have to work quickly because the pastry needs to be cold in order to puff. This is not the time to check your email; practice restraint. Cover the bowls or baking dish with the pastry, using your fingers to adhere it to the sides. Brush the top with the remaining egg wash and pop it into the oven. Bake for 30 minutes, or until it's puffed and golden brown.

Recipe inspired by Martha Stewart.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-02T09:51:00.010-05:00

The New Year prompts us to look ahead and ask ourselves how we'll change in order to be the best that we can be. We identify patterns that aren't working and commit to charting a new course. January 1st inspires us to move through the obstacles that too often define our lives.

At first glance, the admission of failed methods seems like the easy part. Motivated by our inadequacies, we forge ahead with strategies born of self-hatred or self-loathing. With so much riding on our destination we're eager to leap out of the gate, but as we trudge along this arduous new path and begin to realize that action is often fraught with imperfection, we long for our old, safe habits. There's comfort in the familiar, even if the familiar is a painful, limiting idea of who we really are. How can we move forward, though, when every step toward change is rooted in a toxic relationship with the Self?

For me, the hardest part about creating change is the concept of Self-acceptance: loving myself despite my perceived flaws. I think it's only from a place of Self-acceptance that we can hope to rewrite a painful story. To accept oneself lies in the ability to see oneself clearly–without judgement–which requires stillness, willingness and courage.

B.K.S. Iyengar writes in his book, Light on Life, "The point we are seeking to reach is where we can act directly in the present. Direct action stems from direct perception, the ability to see reality in the present, as it is, without prejudice, and act accordingly". Iyengar encourages us to relinquish ourselves from the prison of our past actions as well as the expectations of our future actions; only then will we be truly free.

Luckily for us, we're not defenseless against the great unknown. Patanjali, author of the Yoga Sutras, offers us five tools to help us on our path. They're often referred to as the "Yogi Vitamins", an image I just love because I can see myself popping these pills on a daily basis. The first vitamin is faith: faith in the process, faith in oneself and maybe (if this resonates with you) faith in grace or something infinite that is beyond our perception. It takes faith to get through those moments when it feels like all is lost. It also takes tremendous strength, which is the second vitamin. The third vitamin is memory, which is crucial because without memory we cannot consider the lessons we've learned (but tricky, of course, because memory is seductive, holding the power to trap us in the past). Contemplation is the fourth vitamin. Contemplation implies a commitment to really sit with yourself and listen for the answers. Discernment–the final vitamin–is probably my favorite because there's immense value in the ability to know when to act and when to be still.

Embarking on the new year, I'm inspired to love, respect and trust myself. My New Year's resolutions are only as good as the soil in which they're planted and I believe my real work lies in the tilling, watering and weeding of that earth. It takes so much courage to be honest with ourselves, but perhaps even more to be okay with what we see. A healthy and respectful relationship with the Self fosters the skills we need to take the appropriate action–the one that's best for us.

My hope for you in the New Year is to "Love Thyself". It won't always be easy, but with faith, strength, memory, contemplation and discernment, you will persevere. May you move forward with peace in your heart and a renewed commitment to yourself.

Happy New Year!

Love,

Chrissy

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T11:51:00.028-05:00

My Christmas spirit arrived during a brazen trip to JCrew on Fifth Avenue. The store was a mad house full of crazy, anxious New Yorkers sifting through piles of sale merchandise. As I navigated the insanity I committed to remaining undisturbed. Something washed over me and I softened–my heart, my body, my face–welcoming fellow shoppers with a smile rather than getting swept up in the collective mood. The cashier rang me up, handed me my fabulous new sweater and said "Thank you so much for being nice to me".

It's moments like this that encourage me to investigate the meaning of yoga and the essence of what this practice means to me. Yoga comes from the word "yuj" which means to yoke, or to connect. My exchange at JCrew reminded me that looking someone in the eye, softening in their presence and truly connecting in the moment is what the holidays are all about. I vowed to slow down...sipping rather than gulping down my Christmas. I focused on the little pleasures that ignite my inner spirit and I turned my attention to my family and friends.

This was the year of the homemade present: framed photographs for Billy and my Dad, an album of baby pictures for Alexa, and a hardcover book of my blog for my parents and grandparents! For me, Christmas has always been about the joy of giving and I was so excited for everyone to open their gifts.

Christmas Eve dinner was scrumptious! Sole Meunière with Haricots Verts (blanched and then sautéed in butter, olive oil and shallots). I know I always say this, but it was ridiculously easy to make and ridiculously delicious to eat. Preheat your oven to 200 degrees. You'll need 1 T of lemon zest and the juice of 2 lemons. Flour each sole filet. Melt a few tablespoons of butter in a fry pan and when the butter is melted and bubbly, add the filets. Pour in a couple tablespoons of the lemon juice and sprinkle each piece of fish with lemon zest. Cook approximately one minute per side and transfer to a sheet pan (place in the oven to keep them warm while you cook the remaining fish). I ran into Maury Rubin of City Bakery when I was grocery shopping and he gave me some sound advice regarding my Sole Meunière: "Don't overcook the fish!" I took his words to heart and it was the most amazing fish I'd ever eaten.

The dessert (a homemade rustic apple tart), on the other hand, didn't turn out as well. I rolled out my dough on wax paper and it stuck to everything (so I scraped off all the dough, let it sit in the fridge and re-rolled it out). Things were looking good - apples beautifully arranged on the diagonal, 1/2 cup of sugar sprinkled on top - but after 30 minutes in a 450 degree oven, the sugar burned and my smoke alarm went off. Merry Christmas Eve! The whole family jumped to my rescue, opening windows and doors and fanning the smoke alarm. Needless to say, the tart was actually pretty darn good if you ate around the burnt parts. Luckily my Mom had given Billy a cheesecake for Christmas and he was gracious enough to let us all have a piece (thank you, honey).

The tree sparkled on Christmas morning and I felt like a little girl bounding down the stairs to open my presents. I must've been good this year because Santa brought me a KitchenAid Mixer which is the gift I've wanted for as long as I can remember. Oh the goodies that will be mixed in my glorious new mixer...just you wait! Santa brought Ellie a sack full of toys and she played until she collapsed.

We had crêpes for Christmas breakfast which felt festive with all the fixings. They're so simple to make (I cooked them the day before and just warmed them up in the oven so I could relax and enjoy the morning)!

The classic batter was delicious but I added Grand Marnier and orange zest to the second batch and just loved them! We had all the good crêpe condiments: Nutela, bananas, raspberries (soaked in Grand Marnier and sugar), maple syrup, apples cooked in cinnamon and butter, and whipped cream (which I "whipped" in a blender - obviously this was before I had my mixer)!

Christmas Crêpes

heaping cup of flour

pinch of salt

1 egg

1 T melted butter

1 1/4 cups milk

Sift the flour and salt into a large bowl (I tried it without sifting and had to deal with lumps). Make a well in the center and add the egg, melted butter and half of the milk. Whisk the center, slowly combining the flour into the batter. Add the remaining milk and whisk. The orange zest and Grand Marnier are the best part; I used about 1 t of zest and 1 T of liquor. You can also use 1 T of dark rum (yum) instead of the Grand Marnier. Coat the inside of a nonstick fry pan with vegetable oil (wipe out with a paper towel) and pour a small amount of the batter and swirl it around until it coats the entire pan. The crêpes need approximately 2 minutes per side, but you'll have to play around with it until you find your rhythm.

We enjoyed a quintessential New York City Christmas dinner-one I won't soon forget-at Balthazar in Soho. Families dressed in their Christmas best, the classic brasserie was bustling I loved every minute of watching the world go by.

I felt truly blessed this Christmas. My commitment to remain grounded and grateful proved itself to be a worthy endeavor. My heart feels light and I'm inspired to keep the spirit of connection in my heart as I move forward into the new year.

Scented Christmas

2010-12-16T23:27:00.006-05:00

One of my favorite things about the holidays are heartfelt gifts. I want to make something that my friends will enjoy but can let go of at the end of the season...something they can experience and savor but are not required to love for all eternity. Perhaps that's the inherent flaw of the commercial Christmas–the expectation of having to find everyone the "perfect" gift when in reality we already have enough.

I used to make pomendar balls with my mother when I was little and I remember how they scented our entire home. Pomendar balls originated from the Middle Ages and were used as natural air fresheners. You can use any citrus fruit, although they're classically done with oranges. To make a pomendar ball you simply poke holes all over the orange (I use the pointed end of a cork screw, although anything pointy would suffice) and then stuff them with cloves. You can poke holes strategically to create a design or you can divide the orange into quadrants to leave space for a ribbon (as shown in the photo above). If you're short on time and patience, just stab the orange haphazardly and it will look brilliant. Place the pomendar ball in a ziplock back filled with cinnamon and gently shake until the entire orange is covered.

I placed some wax paper inside this great box I found at Kate's Paperie. Tied with an antique red and white striped ribbon, this gift feels so special and unique.

Note for future pomendar ball enthusiasts: Adding oris root powder to the cinnamon will preserve the fruit so that it dries and lasts!

The Impromptu Breakfast

2010-12-07T09:59:00.011-05:00

Last night, on a whim, I decided to invite my friend Pietro over for breakfast this morning. We usually meet at our local coffee shop, Two Aprons, but I was in the mood for something different. I love this sort of impromptu entertaining because you just have to wing it! That being said, I tend to cook up elaborate schemes and end up needing to relearn my own self-proclaimed passion for flying by the seat of my pants. For example, last night I came up with the idea to bake a coffeecake before I went to bed so it would be ready for the morning. It seemed like a decent plan at the time but a little post-failure introspection revealed that indeed many things seem like a decent plan over a glass of wine. Then I thought I'd just wake up really early and bake banana bread, but as my alarm went off it became clear to me that I need to get a life.

Orchestrating such elaborate and unrealistic proposals only to procrastinate and fold under the pressure seemed worthy of examination. It appears that a small part of me knows what's going on - that masterminding my creativity actually prevents me from being authentically creative. I push the limits of my carefully laid plans so that I'm forced to improvise. My inner teacher is truly brilliant.

So with 40 minutes to spare I decided to make banana muffins. Surely they'd take less time to bake than a whole cake (although I had no idea, which was all part of my devil-may-care attitude). With a twinkle in my eye I proceeded to add a tablespoon of rum and a teaspoon of orange zest to the batter, because why wouldn't someone with minimal baking knowledge add random ingredients to the recipe? I popped them into the oven and was so bold and outrageous in that moment that I decided to go do a load of laundry. The good news is that the muffins were amazing! The bad news is I have no idea how long they were in there. My best guess would be somewhere between 10 and 15 minutes. Just keep an eye on them; when they're golden, they're golden! You will love them!

1 cup plus 2 T of flour

2 t baking powder

1/2 t baking soda

1/2 cup melted butter (I used salted butter because I didn't have any unsalted. If you use unsalted I would add a 1/2 t of salt to the dry ingredients).

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

2 large, extra ripe bananas

1 t vanilla extract

1 T dark rum

1 t orange zest

Combine the dry ingredients in a small bowl.

Mix the melted butter and sugar and then add the eggs. Mush the bananas between your fingers (oh what fun!) and throw them in the batter. Add the vanilla, rum and zest and then slowly add the dry ingredients. Fill the cupcake wrappers about 3/4 full and bake for an undetermined amount of time. (The clean toothpick test is always a good way to be certain they're done.)

Thanksgiving Day

2010-11-26T20:01:00.026-05:00

I hope everyone enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving! Mine was fabulous and tasty and indulgent–all of the things a good Thanksgiving should be!

I committed to remaining stress-free, a feat which was threatened as soon as I began preparing the big bird for the oven. It's like groundhog day every year; I can never remember how to cook a turkey. I think I just block it out, traumatized from the previous year's Thanksgiving and overwhelmed by the myriad of ways one can prepare the main dish. I'm too lazy to brine and too much of a purist to cook it in a plastic bag. I just want to stuff it and be done! I needed an old-school approach and decided that nothing could be better than just slathering the thing in butter. And so that's what I did.

After rubbing the turkey in a homemade herbed butter concoction (chopped sage, thyme and rosemary smeared under the skin and over the bird) I started on the stuffing. I bought peasant bread from the market to make my own stuffing, which was scrumptious and so simple to make! I cut the bread into 1 inch cubes and toasted them in the oven for about 5 minutes. I sauteed 2 onions and 5 celery stalks in a stick of butter (ah, the holidays) until soft (about 10 minutes). The breakfast sausage was also from the Farmers' Market–3 links (minus the casings) sauteed for 10 minutes. To create the stuffing I simply combined everything together with a cup of chicken stock. And yes, I stuffed the bird!

The mystery of last year's turkey debacle (hours and hours of cooking and the turkey just wasn't cooked) was solved with the help of an oven thermometer. Turns out my oven has been lying to me all these years! The temperature inside registered almost 100 degrees below the alleged number on the dial. I didn't have time to lament the past so I channeled my feelings of betrayal into hyper-vigilence, watching through the glass to read the thermometer and then frantically changing the temperature to maintain a constant 350 degrees!

The rest of the meal came together after the turkey was done. Everyone chipped in...Nick (my brother-in-law) made the mashed potatoes; my mother made the gravy; my dad carved the turkey ("This is the easiest turkey I've ever carved," he exclaimed...must've been the butter). My sister attended to her own little butterball, Alexa, my adorable niece! Kacey brought the pumpkin and pecan pies, which were both amazing. We all enjoyed seconds of everything!

This was probably the most relaxed Thanksgiving I can remember. Memory is captured through the lens of our experience and so it must've been that I, myself, was relaxed. I feel like we celebrated the essence of the holiday: gratitude, togetherness and contentment. I loved the simplicity of it all and I'll carry this Thanksgiving in my heart for years to come.

PS - A final word about the turkey. It was, by far, the best turkey any of us had ever eaten. So moist, so flavorful...all thanks to butter and a happily-raised bird.

Thanksgiving Table

2010-11-24T16:29:00.011-05:00

I just carried my fifteen pound turkey home from the big city, a logistical nightmare I hadn't really considered when I set out to attempt a Farmers' Market-only Thanksgiving. As I lugged the giant bird back to New Jersey I tried to cultivate feelings of delight in my own virtue (Sutra 1.33) but found myself cursing instead. Turns out my hips are well designed for transporting heavy merchandise; the beast positioned himself nicely on the top of my anterior iliac crest. He made it home safely (not so sure about me) and is now tucked in the fridge, awaiting the oven tomorrow!

I set the table yesterday so it would be one less thing to worry about whilst I'm basting the bird. My favorite part of any holiday is the decorating and this year I decided to use gourds, squash, and fresh fruit instead of flowers (inspired by my journeys to Balthazar and Bouley)! I love the rustic feel of the burlap tablecloth; it's a nice contrast to the silver. The turkey plates belonged to my grandmother and I absolutely cherish them. I'm going to use the small little bowls for salt and pepper ('tis the season for my brown transferware ironstone). Tomorrow night I'll put out some small candles on the table and all around the house to make everything feel festive. I can't wait for my family to come over and spend time together. Right now I'm going to go finalize my cooking schedule so I can enjoy the Thanksgiving Day Parade tomorrow morning!

Cranberry Sauce

2010-11-20T19:16:00.008-05:00

It was so much fun to buy cranberries at the farmers' market! Scooping them out of a huge bin made me feel like I was in a candy store.

After a good cleaning, add 2 cups of cranberries to a pot filled with 1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar (heated through until the sugar has dissolved). 1 cinnamon stick, 3 whole cloves and the juice of 1 lemon give this sauce amazing flavor (be sure to fish out the spices at the end). The scent will fill up your entire home! Simmer the mixture between 10 and 15 minutes until the cranberries have popped and the juices start to thicken. Store it in the fridge and you're ready for Thanksgiving day!

Recipe courtesy of Maja's Viennese Kitchen

Brussel Sprouts Au Gratin

2010-11-19T14:05:00.016-05:00

En fin, the recipe you've been waiting for: Brussel Sprouts Au Gratin! Yes, it's divine. Yes, it involves heavy cream, butter, and cheese. I justify these ingredients by practicing pratipaksha bhavanam (replacing a negative with a positive). For example, instead of saying "Oh boy, another doozie for my waistline" I flip it by saying something like "How fantastic for my waistline that Thanksgiving only comes but once a year." This dish was a crowd pleaser last year and I, for one, cherished the leftovers!

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Grease an ovenproof dish with butter. Prepare an ice bath.

You'll need 2 pounds of brussel sprouts. Cook in boiling water for 5-8 minutes and then transfer them to an ice bath. Make sure to dry them once they're cool.

Slice 2 shallots and sauté them in a little white wine and butter until they're translucent and soft.

Now for the gratin. In a large bowl combine 2 T flour, 1 cup grated gruyere cheese, 2 T of parmesan cheese, 1 t of lemon zest, 2 t salt and 1/2 t pepper. Stir in 1 cup of heavy cream (remember, pratipaksha bhavanam)! Add your brussel sprouts and sautéed shallots.

For the topping you'll need 3 cups of bread crumbs (I'm a panko lover, but you can use fresh bread and make your own or simply use pre-made bread crumbs), 3 T unsalted room temperature butter, 1 1/2 t lemon zest, 1/2 t salt, 1/2 t pepper, and 2 T chopped parsley. Mix well.

Pour the gratin into your baking dish and sprinkle with the topping. Pop it into your oven and bake until it looks so heavenly and golden brown that you simply can't stand it anymore (about 35 minutes).

Enjoy!

Recipe inspired by Williams Sonoma

Farmers' Market Thanksgiving

2010-11-16T10:18:00.007-05:00

Like everyone else, I'm too busy for my own good. In fact, just this morning it dawned on me that Thanksgiving isn't off somewhere in the friendly distance. Rather, it's right around the corner...like, next Thursday. Yikes. I'm cooking for my entire family....double yikes!

This year I've really outdone myself; I'm attempting to cook a mighty feast gathered entirely from the Union Square Farmers' Market. I decided that in honor of trying to live life consciously I'd like to know where all of my food grew up. Pulling off a locally-grown holiday is going to take gusto and courage.

The only way to enjoy a mildly stress-free holiday dinner is to plan ahead. I do most of the work in my mind–the location of all my strategizing and organizing and emotional breakdowns–so that the event can unfold with relative ease. (Now you know the subject of my meditation practice.)

Luckily I saved my menu from last Thanksgiving and have all of the recipes written down. Perusing the ingredients helped me to create my shopping list so I'm armed at the market. A timeline is helpful so I can squeeze my to-do list into my already hectic schedule.

First thing on the list? Order a turkey-lurkey! I asked the folks at DiPaola Turkey Farm a bunch of questions regarding how the birds are raised, what they eat and how they die, and I feel happy with my choice. You can order your turkey from DiPaola for $3.39/lb and pick it up the day before Thanksgiving.

Next thing on the list is to make a rough sketch of the menu, which includes some classics as well as a few special dishes (recipes coming soon)! I'm especially excited about the brussel sprouts au gratin! My mouth is watering already.

Turkey

Homemade Stuffing

Cranberry Sauce

Mashed Potatoes

Roasted Carrots and Cauliflower

Roasted Butternut Squash with Brown Sugar

Brussel Sprouts Au Gratin

Pumpkin Pie

Apple Pie

I know the upcoming week will be crazy but Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I want nothing more than to savor and relish every moment of the craziness. I love the process just as much as the meal!

Embrace the Season

2010-11-11T15:14:00.007-05:00

Every year I'm shocked to see Christmas trees adorning store windows while the rest of the world is dressed up for Halloween or ordering their turkeys. My reaction is always the same: surprise, disgust, distain, heartache. The Christmas season doesn't officially start until Santa rides in on his sleigh at the end of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (everyone knows that). Christmas has invaded my present moment and threatens to subvert Thanksgiving from its rightful place on the holiday circuit. Team Christmas needs to just wait its turn.

I found solace in the windows at Balthazar–where I enjoy my ritual latte on the benches outside–whose displays are always simple, elegant and most importantly, seasonal.

I love the rustic berries and the earthy bread juxtaposed with the sophistication of this beloved Brasserie. It feels very personal and authentic to me and will be my inspiration for my Thanksgiving table!

What I love about decorating for the season is that you can use whatever nature offers you in that moment. A large glass vase or hurricane filled with tall branches would look beautiful on a Thanksgiving table and would allow guests to see each other under a canopy of colorful foliage. (In New York we have to pay top dollar for branches that some of you can just waltz right out into your own backyards and chop down, so get choppin'!) I enjoyed an amazing birthday dinner at Bouley where the tables were adorned with a few small gourds and a candle...so elegant. Fill an old bowl with pears and apples (an edible arrangement)! Thanksgiving is about being grateful for what we already have. Embrace the season!

The Art of the Hand-Written Note

2010-10-19T14:46:00.019-04:00

When I was in first grade I won the handwriting award–an accolade I won't soon forget–which prompted me to write notes to people, mainly so I could admire my handiwork as it flowed across the page. My ego aside, I loved corresponding with friends; writing letters became a passion, topped only by the thrill of receiving a response in the mail. I loved the entire art of letter writing, from the paper and the ink to the story behind the stamps. Santa brought me a calligraphy set one year for Christmas and I would spend hours at our kitchen table practicing my flourishes. Soon I was addressing envelopes for weddings and making my own cards. To me, a letter represented my connection with someone else. It was an artistic expression of thoughtfulness.

Letters have now been replaced by emails and Facebook is the new way to connect (allowing you to "collect" friends with whom you'll probably never correspond). I miss those authentic bonds made through an exchange of paper, and so I'm bringing back the art of the hand-written note.

Here's what you'll need:

A Letter Station - Designate a place in your home devoted to all the essentials you'll need to write and send a note on-the-go. I use a silver tray on my desk which houses pens, blank cards and stamps. My pens sit upright in an old glass floral frog. Can you guess which pen is my favorite in the photo below?

I love the idea of an old tack box filled with all the necessities. You could also use an old plate, platter or bowl.

Blank Cards - There are some fantastic options at Target (I bought a box of 200 multi-colored note cards over two years ago and I'm still using them). Kate Spade makes a box set of cards for every occasion, so you'll always be prepared. I stock up on paper and envelopes at Paper Presentation on 18th Street and often make my own. For the card below I used an old photo I found at the flea market and attached it to a blank note card with gold photo corners.

A Great Pen - There's nothing like a thick, inky pen to help you get your words on paper. I love to write on a diagonal...it looks so unique and personal.

Notes are especially appreciated when they're unexpected. Thank someone for a recent heart-to-heart or let someone know they're on your mind. One of my girlfriends always sends me a thank you card after coming to my house for dinner. Of course she doesn't have to, but that's the point. To open my mailbox and see a personal card can literally brighten my day. The art of the hand-written note is about connecting with someone and showing them how much you care.

Life, The Musical

2010-10-14T11:22:00.012-04:00

I've often imagined what it would be like if Life were a musical. You step foot out of your apartment to greet the day and suddenly you're singing a solo and everyone on the street seems to know the words. There's a posse of Broadway dancers doing jazz runs behind you as you cross the street. The number ends with a bang (an arial shot of the cast looking up with their arms in the air) and then life goes back to normal, except now everything's just a little brighter.

These fantasies were born from a childhood of watching movies like Singin' In The Rain and Meet Me In St. Louis. They shaped my view of the world and turned me into a hopeless romantic. There was a sense of togetherness and community in those musicals–no matter what came your way, you were armed with a slew of extras who could help you express how you felt. These songs asked us to appreciate the moment and embrace Life as it unfolds.

Given the stress of our times, I think we could use a bit of this magic in our lives. Instead of togetherness, we often feel alone. People don't make eye contact in the street or smile at strangers (or sing their worries to those standing by). Most of us are tired, impatient and downright cranky. There's just not enough time to invest in the people that cross our paths: our dry cleaners, the person who sells us our morning coffee or the people who pass us on the sidewalk.

I was recently reminded of the power of song after watching this week's episode of Glee. When Chris Colfer and Lea Michelle performed Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy, I was flooded with feelings of nostalgia and joy. I dug out my iPod, downloaded the song and haven't stopped smiling since. I listened to the song on my way to work and it turned my silent, hamster-in-a-wheel commute into a relaxed stroll towards my destination. "Forget your troubles, come on get happy" (I struck up a conversation with the barista at Starbucks)..."You better chase all your cares away" (I noticed the sparkle of the shop windows)..."Shout hallelujah, come on get happy" (I watched people pass by in a hurry and imagined them trying to get home to dinner on the table or a family waiting for them after a long day at work)..."Happy days are here again" (I literally couldn't wipe the smile off my face).

It's possible people were staring at me, as smiling is often a cause for concern ("She's probably crazy"). Surprisingly enough, I received a few smiles in return and felt genuinely connected to those strangers in that moment. Having a soundtrack to my evening brought me more into the present moment than I'd been in a long time. It was my song–the style, the genre, the "old New Yorkness" of it all– and it captured everything I love about being in this great city (I told you...hopeless romantic). I was inspired to be a good "extra" in someone else's musical: to listen, to share, to connect with the people that crossed my path.

In these tough times we can find hope through the camaraderie of song and so I encourage you to find your own soundtrack. What songs capture your life right now? What brings a smile to your face? My soundtrack is entitled "Autumn In New York"; these songs make me feel like the star of my own musical and inspire me to ask the question "What would Gene Kelly do?" Maybe, when no one's looking, I'll kick up my heels and twirl around a lamp post before continuing on my way.

"Autumn In New York"

Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy - Glee Cast

I've Got You Under My Skin - Frank Sinatra

They Can't Take That Away From Me - Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

C'est Si Bon - Eartha Kitt

It Had To Be You - Harry Connick, Jr.

Singin' In The Rain - Gene Kelly

The Way You Look Tonight - Fred Astaire

The Trolley Song - Judy Garland

Count Your Blessings - Diana Krall

Sweet Potato Ginger Soup

2010-10-08T09:47:00.007-04:00

I made this one up as I went along, which is the fun thing about making soup. This combination is simply delicious...it feels fresh while still tasting like Fall. The sweet potatoes are rich and comforting while the ginger adds brightness and depth. I'm giving you complete creative control over the ginger; a little bit will give a "je ne sais quoi" to the sweet potatoes while a lot will knock peoples' socks off. It's all up to you.

Sauté 2 chopped onions and 1 clove of garlic in 2 T of butter over medium heat until onions are soft (about 10 minutes). Peel and cube the sweet potatoes (I used 3 large potatoes) and pop them in the pot, sautéing for another 10-15 minutes. Add 3 cups of chicken stock plus 1 1/2 cups of water, 1 t of salt and 1/2 t of pepper. Bring to a boil and then simmer with the lid on for 30 minutes. I liked using the immersion blender because it added texture to the soup (rather than it being perfectly smooth), but you could also transfer small batches to a blender. Now, for the ginger. I actually "juiced" the peeled ginger in a garlic press. I probably used about a T of the juice for my soup, but again, you could tone it down or spice it up according to your tastes.

The color is stunning. It's so ridiculously simple and it's a great seasonal meal to serve this weekend! Enjoy!

Fall Bliss

2010-10-04T09:55:00.003-04:00

I had the day off yesterday and it was glorious. Billy, Ellie and I took a trip to a quintessential country town in New Jersey where both my parents grew up. Nothing's changed since the days on my grandmother's farm where I used to spend time as a little girl. That farm is the source of my favorite childhood memories, and I've made it a sort of unofficial tradition every Fall to return back to this magical place...just to see it and remember. It's here where I fell in love with the idea of home.

There's a farm for apple picking behind the General Store in town, so the three of us wandered through the orchards picking Jonagold, Macoun and Empire. Baked apple desserts mark the beginning of the Fall season!

Is it me, or is there something special about apples with their leaves in tact? They make a beautiful centerpiece on my farm table at home.

Inspired by the cooler weather, I made a classic dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. One word: yum. The recipe for this soup is super simple and so delicious you'll never want tomato soup from a can again. I loved the open-face grilled cheese crostini with sharp English cheddar; they were perfect for dipping.

Saute 2 chopped onions and 2 minced cloves of garlic in 6 T of unsalted butter for about 15 minutes. Add a 28 oz can of whole plum tomatoes, 3 cups of chicken stock, 2 t sea salt and pepper (to taste). Bring to a boil and simmer with the lid on for 20 minutes. You can pour small batched into a blender until smooth, or use a nifty immersion blender and voila.

For the crostini, saute one clove of minced garlic and an herb of your choice (I have thyme growing in my kitchen...just a few sprigs is all you need). The aroma will fill the air in about thirty seconds. Turn off the heat and lightly dip pieces of baguette (or whatever you have) into the flavored oil. Shave cheddar cheese over your crostini and put under the broiler.

The apple crisp recipe is one of my all-time favorites. The ingredients are sinful. (Well...really just the two sticks of butter, but what are you gonna do? Why do you think it tastes so damn good?)

Preheat your oven 350 degrees.

For the filling, combine the ingredients and pour into a baking dish.

6-8 apples

1 t orange zest

2 t orange juice

1 t lemon zest

1 t lemon juice

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup flour

1 t cinnamon

For the crumble, you can combine with a blender but I just use my fingers. I love to mash the cubes of butter with my hands; it's a fantastic way to get my frustrations out. Note on the crumble: you might suspect that you've done something wrong because it looks like a floury mess when you mix it together, but have no fear. It will be divine when the butter melts and turns the flour and oatmeal into this crispy, crunchy topping. I told you it was sinful! Cover the entire apple mixture with the crumble and bake for 50 minutes.

1 1/2 cups flour

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup light brown sugar

1 cup oatmeal

2 sticks cold butter, cut into small cubes

Fruit Crisp recipe courtesy of Ina Garten

Go Through the Tourists

2010-09-23T22:47:00.015-04:00

Although I consider myself to be a very nice person, I'm easily annoyed by tourists. I try to avoid them at all costs. I've perfected the art of weaving through them on city sidewalks, the way one would pass cars on the Autobahn. I don't go near Times Square or Herald Square (really anything with the word "square" in it). I'm not sure why they bother me so much...they're probably very sweet people, but the truth is they slow me down. I can't get to where I'm going as fast as I could if they (for example) just stood on the right side of the escalators and let me pass them on the left. Being angry at tourists used to take up a good chunk of my energy, but then I figured out all the shortcuts that allowed me to simply avoid them completely.

Despite my attempts to stay away from their typical hangouts, tourists (like any hearty obstacle) seem to find me wherever I go. When I shop for lipstick at Bloomingdales, there they are. When I try to swipe my Metrocard, there they are in front me trying to figure out which way to swipe theirs. When I come out of the subway, there they are, congregated at the exit looking at their maps. It seems as though they're following me around the city.

I assumed this blood-boiling reaction was related specifically to my interactions with foreign visitors, until I started to recognize the same flashes of annoyance–those same instincts to flee–on my yoga mat. Thighs quivering, I would come out of Virabhadrasana 2 and find any means necessary to distract myself from witnessing the intensity (looking down, fidgeting, letting out dramatic exhales so that the teacher would know just how much I had suffered). Kicking up into handstand with my "special occasion" leg was high on my list of things to avoid, and so I'd just kick up with my favorite leg and hope the teacher wouldn't notice. I know I'm not alone. I once offered a block to a woman in my class who told me she was allergic to props (the foam bricks, the nylon belts, the wool blankets...I don't know how this woman got through life with so many allergies). Like an ostrich who buries its head in the sand when hunted by a predator, pretending it's not there seems to be a popular way to deal with the enemy.

Then the inevitable happened; I found myself trapped in a corner, unable to find a way around what I had so desperately tried to avoid. Called out by a teacher (or maybe I was just fed up with myself) I was forced to stare down my obstacles and find a way through them. When faced with a hurdle you've been trying to dodge, something very interesting happens...you're forced to work it out. You may not be able to get to where you're going at warp speed, but you begin to realize that all the detours you've been taking are just that: detours. Moving through the restriction allows you to find the most direct route to your destination. Using a strap around your arms in Urdhva Dhanurasana, for example, may prevent you from lifting as high as you would sans strap, but it moves you through the tightness in your shoulders and ultimately allows you to do the pose strap-free. Moving through an obstacle is the only way to see why it was a problem in the first place. The effort to look may even give you the chance to surmount the mountain in your way.

Life is full of obstacles. It's our attitude towards those obstacles that ultimately defines our life. Perhaps challenges are actually opportunities for us to really see ourselves. Our lives are like prisms...each experience, each restriction, each character merely reflects our own image back to ourselves. When I think of it in this way, I'm tempted to walk through Herald Square and be amongst the tourists (actually, that may be a little advanced for me right now). I'm intrigued at the prospect of standing behind them on the escalator rather than plowing them over. I might need to use some of the techniques I've learned on my yoga mat. I may even need to breathe, but I'll certainly begin to see space in my experience. Now I walk down Broadway twice a week the way I'd pop into a yoga class. I want to find a way to be with the intensity. This is my practice, so if you see me walking through Soho very slowly with a smile on my face, you'll know what I'm up to.

Through the Lens

2010-09-21T13:13:00.001-04:00

One of the things I love about magazines and cookbooks are the mouth-watering photographs that accompany each recipe. In fact, I don't think I've ever tried a recipe where there wasn't a corresponding picture to inspire me. I love that a good photographer can make a hotdog look gourmet.

As it turns out one of my students, Melina Hammer, happens to have an eye for capturing life behind the lens. We've collaborated on a few projects together (most recently on the fabulous late summer harvest pasta extravaganza) and each has encouraged me to be more adventurous in how I present the food I make. We rummage through my cupboards and pull out plates and flatware I usually save for special occasions. "My life philosophy is that there are stories to be found everywhere, from the abandoned or mundane, to the epic", says Melina. I love the idea of turning precious pieces into everyday objects (and visa versa).

I asked Melina where she seeks inspiration for her work. "The lines and forms in nature are a constant inspiration. Nature's patterns–like honeycombs, for instance–embody a perfection that is complete and uplifting. In my daily routine, I'll be shopping for food at the farmers' market and come across the most gorgeous vegetables or fruits and all of a sudden I'm neglecting the shopping list, taking things home specifically because I want to photograph their special beauty. It's almost a compulsion"! (I have the same problem, except I'm eating the food instead of photographing it.)

Her list of top-five must-haves are right up my alley: chocolate (yes), avocados (the foundation of my food pyramid), organic lavender-orange skin balm (sounds lovely), her handmade metal jewelry (gorgeous...she made a fellow teacher's wedding ring and it's so beautiful) and her camera (whether it's her professional studio version or simply her iPhone).

Melina's a yogini to be reckoned with. See the photo below (taken by her hubby: another genius behind the camera)! I wanted to know what pose she was working on at the moment, to which she responded "Anjaneyasana" (crescent moon pose, or low lunge). "I focus on striking that balance between grounding down and forward towards the front leg without sinking; trying to unstick the hip point away from the front thigh (argh); and lifting up and back into the backbend without straining my neck - so hard"! I hear ya, girl.

It's so fascinating to see the world through someone else's eyes. I'm grateful to peer through Melina's and catch a glimpse of her vision. She said it herself: "Inspiration is everywhere".

Fall Fashion Wish List

2010-09-02T10:07:00.013-04:00

Fall fashion always inspires me to reinvent myself. My outfit intuition is a little rusty, thanks to my wardrobe of elastic waistbands and stretchy athletic gear. I find that you have to work those muscles as you would your abdominals, otherwise they atrophy. Every season I swear to myself that I'm going to recommit to looking hot, and every season I fizzle under the pressure of picking clothes out of my closet. I'm overwhelmed by the trends and plagued by indecision, which leads me to grab more of what I know (yoga clothes and sneakers).

The universe finally took pity on me and this season is proving to be the answer to my prayers. Magazines and shop windows are full of structured, classic clothes, the likes of which are already hanging in my closet! I'm already in fashion and I haven't even tried (thank God)! My Mom always told me to buy a few good pieces instead of stocking up on tons of cheap trends. Thank you, Mom. Here's a tour of my personal faves.

I've had this trusty black blazer for years. It looks fresh with the sleeves rolled up and paired with a chunky lucite necklace (just purchased yesterday from Anthropologie)! My Saint James tee is a staple in my closet; it looks good with everything and makes a statement without any effort.

I bought this lace skirt at a thrift store in Paris years ago. The A-line shape is perfect for this season (very Mad Men). Adore the chocolate brown sequin top, which has been sitting in the back of my closet waiting for some kind of fancy event so it can step out on the town. Low and behold, this season is mixing sequins with more casual pieces for an unexpected punch.

Love this twist on the classic button down...perfect for dressing up but goes great with jeans. The lace top is merciful on my atrophied outfit muscles as it goes with everything.

I bought the green tweed coat years and years ago and yet it always feels so current. I love the way it just hangs on me, like I borrowed it from Billy's side of the closet. The gray coat was an H&M purchase last winter, thanks to my talented fashionista girlfriend, Cleandra (thank you, my dear, for showing me the light)!

These Cole Haan shoes are beyond amazing. Every time someone stops me on the street to compliment my shoes, I say "Yes, they're fabulous AND they have Nike Air technology!" Run, don't walk, to Cole Haan and buy yourself any of their genius footwear. The purse was handed down to me from my Mom...the structured shape is perfect for this Fall.

Like every girlie-girl, I have a wish list a mile long of things I'm desperate to buy for the season (aparigraha, sanskrit for non-hoarding, is simply lost on me). Love these silk pants from Anthropologie; they're a relaxed (yet fancy) version of the skinny cargos everyone's going gaga over (and more flattering, I might add). I can see myself wearing this gray cashmere sweater from JCrew on a daily basis (perfect with black skinny jeans for a "I just threw this on but this is how I roll...draped in cashmere" look). Love the Annie vest, also from JCrew...makes any outfit look smart. I'm currently obsessed with Club Monaco's brown sequin Jodie skirt and see it with tights and black riding boots (or booties...don't even get me started...desperately looking for the perfect pair as we speak).

The best accessory of the season, though, is a great attitude. Work that impressive yogic posture and strut your toned quadriceps down Fifth Avenue. You see it all the time in New York: women embracing who they are and flaunting it to the world. I hope you have fun expressing who you are this Fall!

Summer Pastas Continued

2010-08-21T17:30:00.009-04:00

Styling this photo shoot with Melina was so much fun! It was a reminder to pull out all my favorite napkins and plates more often...to have fun "creating" in my everyday life. Enjoy the last two recipes!

Caserecci with Caramelized Onions, Mushrooms and Goat Cheese

I love, love, love this creation; there's something about the richness of the flavors and the amazingly creamy texture of the goat cheese. My mouth is watering just writing about it! Slice an onion into rings and sauté in olive oil. Add salt, pepper and a tablespoon of sugar. Cook on medium heat for approximately 20 minutes (give or take: you want them to turn a nice, brown color), stirring occasionally. I use a combination of shitake and cremini mushrooms, sautéed in olive oil until soft (10 minutes or so). Caserecci is this little gem of a pasta that adds instant intrigue to the dish. Throw everything together and douse with soft goat cheese (Petit Billy, from the Loire region, is my personal favorite). You can buy both the cheese and the pasta at Whole Foods.

Pappardelle with Heirloom Cherry Tomatoes, Roasted Eggplant, Fresh Ricotta and Thyme

This is a new recipe, inspired by the amazingly sweet cherry tomatoes at the Union Square Green Market. The eggplant, cut into cubes, is roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper at 400 degrees for 20-30 minutes (stir when you remember). I halved the cherry tomatoes and sautéed them in olive oil until just soft and heated through. Plate the pasta and then add each element (the tomatoes should generate their own sauce, but you can add olive oil to taste). Garnish with small spoonfuls of fresh ricotta and thyme.

Late Harvest Pastas

2010-08-20T09:32:00.023-04:00

The word had spread that I was working on a post about summer pastas and that the fabulous Melina Hammer was photographing all the yumminess, and so as not to keep you waiting any longer, voilà...the post on pasta! I must say I'm pretty darn impressed with myself for coming up with these recipes. Each dish is unique and unexpected but insanely simple to make. I think you're going to love them!

Salmon with Summer Squash and Capers over Capellini

This is my new favorite meal! The salmon (drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with sea salt and pepper) is roasted for 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Meanwhile, julienne the summer squash (I only used the skins for maximum color) and sauté in a little olive oil. When the salmon's done, break it up into big chunky pieces and arrange over the pasta. Garnish with the squash and sprinkle with capers (a little bit of the caper juice adds amazing flavor). The sauce is just a little lemon juice and olive oil. Season with sea salt, pepper, and bit of grated lemon zest.

This pasta is fantastic warm, room temperature or cold. I made it for some friends last night and it was a huge hit! My friend Pietro brought us fresh figs for dessert, which I served with pieces of dark chocolate. It was just one of those evenings where everything came together so beautifully and organically, as if it took no effort at all (company included).

Linguine with Shrimp, Clams and Mussels

It's time to get over your fear of cooking shellfish. You're going to read this recipe and say "Oh, that's it?" The shrimp (prepped with the typical accoutrement: olive oil, sea salt and pepper) are roasted at 400 degrees for 6 minutes. Give the clams and mussels a good cleaning and make sure they're all closed (tap the open ones on your counter and if they close by themselves, they're good to go).

Me, smashing garlic, wearing that red linen apron I bought in Paris!

Sauté three cloves of minced garlic in olive oil (between 1/4 and 1/2 cup). Pour in about 1/2 cup of white wine and then add a few tablespoons of chopped parsley, sea salt, pepper and red pepper flakes (to taste). Dump in your shellfish and put the lid on the pot. I like to pick up the pot and give it a good shake, a technique I must've picked up somewhere (although I have no idea what it does). Simmer for about six minutes, or until all of the shells have opened (throw out any stragglers that insist on staying closed, or you will get very ill and will be very mad at me for encouraging you to cook shellfish). I love to plate the clams and mussels in their shells; the presentation is beautiful.

Isn't Melina's photography amazing? I mean, I just want to reach into my computer screen and devour everything!

Farfalle with Pesto, Spinach and Shaved Parmesan

Everyone needs to know how to make pesto. There are a million variations and it's all about finding your own personal taste. I don't even measure...I just keep tasting it until I'm happy. Combine olive oil, basil, garlic, parmesan cheese, pine nuts (or walnuts), salt and pepper into a food processor (this is like the reason you need to buy a food processor, even if it's just one of those little ones). I usually make a huge batch and just store it in the freezer.

The bow tie pasta adds a bit of whimsy to the dish. I added raw spinach (although I think arugula would also taste lovely) and big shavings of parmesan on top. It's a little hard to see, but I love how Melina put the block of parmesan on a piece of wax paper in the background...it adds so much depth to the photo (and what a great presentation idea)!

I think three recipes will keep you busy for now! Try one tonight and let me know what you think. I'll be posting more pasta ideas tomorrow. Buon appetito!

Hamptons Style

2010-08-11T21:51:00.017-04:00

I just came back from a short stay in the Hamptons and have fallen in-love with the easy-breezy style that epitomizes this special place. Correction: I've fallen back in-love, as my personal aesthetic has always been inspired by the simple design philosophy of Long Island's East End. I love the clean, white palette, accented with elements from nature (shells, drift wood and hydrangea). Sisal and jute rugs add texture and a sense of organization. The untamed quality of the outdoors is given clean lines with black and white photography and crisp linens. I really think that's all a home needs: a balance between structure (sthira) and softness (sukha).

Sag Harbor has a fantastic antique/home store called Bloom (43 Madison Street) which is seriously the most gorgeous store in the universe (wow, that was a bold statement).

I love the look of the natural wood in the farm table above. The hand-blown glass hurricanes look sophisticated, yet imperfect. The wood and glass work so well together. Notice the black and white photograph by Michael Dweck in the background...the white mat and frame keep it casual.

Black and white metal canisters are like pieces of architecture when arranged on a shelf above the front door.

Built-in white armoires filled to the brim with glass hurricanes.

My dog, Ellie, shopping at Bloom. She's not for sale.

Nellie's in Amagansett (230 Main Street) is my other mecca for antiques. They had so much ironstone I was weak in the knees upon entering but, alas, I need another piece of ironstone like I need a hole in my head. Nellie's has great furniture and seems to be a haven for long, wooden benches.

Don't you just love those framed bathing suits hanging on the wall?

I went home with these cutting boards. The old ones are so hard to find.

"Step away from the ironstone plates", I repeated to myself.

After you browse the goodies as Nellie's, you must pop over to Jack's Coffee (Amagansett Square). Best coffee ever. I'm usually a straight-up cappuccino kinda girl (iced lattes in the summer) but I got hooked on the "Happy Jack", which is steamed soy milk, honey, cinnamon and espresso. It was like a coffee chai. Yessiree, that did the trick!

The moral to this little Hamptons love story, you ask? Keep it simple. Layer different colors and textures of white and accent with items from nature. A big chunky piece of coral set on top of a stack of books...blue hydrangea in an old mason jar...black and white images framed in white or silver: it's about juxtaposing relaxed with timeless. If your home sets the stage for your life, then surely a balance of sthira (strength) and sukha (comfort) is a good place to start.

Pitta Overdrive

2010-08-03T16:13:00.012-04:00

This summer has been a doozie and I, for one, have been struggling to beat the heat. It's Pitta season, folks, and us overachievers are most likely feeling it the worst. Ayurveda (meaning "science of life") is an ancient Indian system of natural healing whose aim is to treat the whole person. According to Ayurvedic principles, we're born with a specific proportion of the five elements and can maintain health and balance in our life if we live in tune with our constitution. The elements are combined to create the three doshas: Vata (air and space), Pitta (water and fire), and Kapha (water and earth). Lost? Think about the airport. Vata types hope to arrive early but get there late because they lost their passport. Kapha types are relaxed and happy, despite the fact that their plane has been delayed. Pitta (oh, Pitta) people arrive early (having printed their boarding pass from home) and are fighting with the airlines to wave the $20 baggage fee.

My friend and fellow teacher, Jeanmarie Paolillo, is my go-to Ayurvedic guru. Whenever I feel my pitta in overdrive, I email her in desperation. "During the Pitta season, all the qualities of Pitta are amped up. Tension, anger and irritability are all signs that the Dosha is elevated in your system," says Jeanmarie. When balanced, Pitta types are perceptive, independent, and friendly. They're natural leaders in every way, but turn up the heat and you'll have an overly competitive, angry, control-freak on your hands (back away slowly).

Thankfully there are ways to cool off and the yoga mat is a great place to start. "Taking the active practice down a notch and bringing in more cooling poses will aid greatly in balancing out Pitta," suggests Jeanmarie. Skip the chaturangas and long standing sequences in favor of seated forward bends. Inversions are important, even if it's just Viparita Karani (legs up the wall), as they can help minimize fluid retention and drain lymphatic fluid from the lower extremities. Jeanmarie's recommendations go beyond the physical: "Leg go of any competitive thoughts, both with the people around you and (more importantly and often more challenging) with yourself!" Amen.

Pitta can also be balanced through our food choices. Stick to a cool menu of fruits (think melon, apples and grapes), veggies (raw is best) and grains. Stay away from spicy, acidic or fried food, and avoid meat and (brace yourself) coffee. Dammit (that's the Pitta talking). Eat in a peaceful environment and engage in calming activities, like walking or swimming. Wearing cool colors like blues, greens and whites can help to turn down the heat. Jeanmarie suggests daily meditation and encourages us Pittas to get in touch with our emotions through introspective activities such as journaling.

Parting words to all Pittas: slow down, eat well and be nice. Fall is right around the corner!

Peach Pie

2010-07-25T18:54:00.015-04:00

Alrighty kids, this next post is not for the faint of heart. I've been inspired by the beautiful fruit at the Union Square market, as well as by my budding courage on the yoga mat. What's up my sleeve, you ask? A homemade peach pie...from scratch. I know what you're thinking; "Chrissy, we love you but you're crazy. Thanks but no thanks." It's the same response I get when I ask you to do a handstand (or, for those of you seasoned handstanders, the pangs of fear and disbelief that follow my request to hop up in the center of the room). Be brave, you can do it! My confidence comes from my complete and utter lack of experience in the pastry department, so as a fellow novice I can tell you first hand that A) it's fun to delve into something you never thought you could do and B) if you screw it up, you can always buy the pre-made pie dough from Pillsbury (or, a pre-made pie).

I'm not sure what prompted me to start making my own pastry dough, but I think I just got tired of playing if safe. I'm noticing the same thing in my yoga practice. I've been exploring inversions in the center of the room, dropping over backwards (by accident and on purpose) and generally sticking myself in situations that scare the bujezus out of me. It's exhilarating.

So here's what you need:

-a brazen attitude and complete detachment from the results

-a food processor (if you're waiting for a "special day" to buy one, then buying one is most definitely part of this practice)

-a rolling pin

-a pie dish

-flour

-sugar

-butter

-peaches (6-8)

My advice is to move all of the necessary supplies to a table so you can sprawl out. The key to all of this is to be organized and yet relaxed. It's the abhyasa (diligent practice) and vairagya (letting go) of baking.

So let's do this! Rule number one: don't panic. Rule number two: keep your ingredients cold and your oven hot.

1) Cut 2 sticks of butter into small cubes. Place in a bowl and stick it in the freezer about 10-15 minutes before you're ready to start. Drop some ice cubes in a cup of water; you'll need that water later.

2) 2 1/2 cups of flour, 1 t sugar and 1 t salt go into the food processor.

3) Add the cubed butter to the food processor and pulse for 8-10 seconds. You want to break up the butter into pea-size pieces.

4) Ice water at the ready, turn the food processor on and slowly pour in between 1/4 and 1/2 cup. You'll start to see the water pull the flour into a dough. This takes about 30 seconds. Don't panic and over mix. While it may look like a mess, just trust me...the heat from your hands will give it shape and you don't want the butter to fully dissolve into the dough. Those little bursts of fat are what make the crust crispy, and we definitely want crispy.

5) Scoop out your dough and separate it into two round balls. Wrap each in plastic and put them in the fridge. (If all else fails, just keep putting things in the fridge.)

6) Now you wait. That dough needs to rest in there for 20 minutes or so. Here's what you can do in the meantime: preheat your oven to 425 degrees. Peal and cut your peaches, adding 1/4 flour and 1/2 cup of sugar. (Note: The flour helps to soak up the juices, so if you're dealing with especially juicy peaches, you can experiment with adding more flour. Same goes for the sugar. If your peaches are ripe and sweet, you can add less sugar.) I know it's not specific, but remember, making a pie from scratch is a ridiculous venture...you said it yourself. Whip out that brazen attitude and work it out.

7) Flour your working surface and your rolling pin. Roll out just one of the dough balls. Always roll in one direction. Going back and forth will get you into trouble. Just keep turning the dough as you roll, making sure that it rolls into some semblance of a circle (double-checking that it doesn't stick to the board). Re-flour as necessary. Place the dough into your pie plate and pour in your peach filling. Dot with about 2 T of butter, cut into small pieces and scattered throughout. Stick the pie back in the fridge while you grab the other dough ball and repeat the rolling process.

8) Lay the second crust over the pie and crimp the two layers together with your fingers. You can decorate the edges any way you like. I happen to love the thumb impressions, but you can also go around the edges with a fork.

9) Cut 4 inch-long slits in the top of your pie to let out the steam while it's baking. Brush the entire thing with an egg wash (code for an egg thinned out with a splash of water). This gives it a nice brown, glossy look.

10) Pop the pie in the fridge for another 10 minutes or so. Do some handstands while you wait. At this point you should be either overly confident or completely defeated, leaving you with nothing to lose. Inch yourself away from the wall and see if you can kick up without touching. When you feel yourself flipping over, reach your chest and your eyes towards the wall and try to land both feet on the wall at the same time. Once you've done a few of those, pop your pie into the oven and bake for 40-50 minutes.

Like a true beginner, I have no idea what I don't know. I've heard murmurings of how humidity and temperature dictate the final results, but I can't be bothered by that right now. I'm just lucky that it tastes good, and I kind of like how "homemade" it looks. Getting over the fear is nine-tenths of the battle. You have to believe that it's possible. "Practice becomes firmly grounded when well attended to for a long time, without break and in all earnestness" (Sutra 1.14). I'm sure that time and experience will reveal a lot about the secrets of pastry and I'm excited for that journey. One thing's for sure: there'll be lots of good pies along the way!

Lemon Mint Water

2010-07-22T12:28:00.004-04:00

I have to be honest with you...I'm not really into those aluminum water bottles. I've tried, trust me, but I just can't make them work. Maybe it's the fact that they're hard to clean, or that they get that weird smell. It's probably because I'd rather be drinking coffee (ok there, I said it).

This got me thinking about how to make water more exciting. Steering clear of flavored powders and plastic bottles was a priority, and yet I had to find a way to make a ritual out of drinking H2O. I found a glass bottle in my cabinet and filled it with lemon slices and fresh mint. I threw the bottle in my bag, water free, so as not to break my back on my commute. Once I reached my destination, I filled it with cold water and let me just tell you, it was fabulous! I think I may have found a way to hydrate that's both refreshing and good for the environment. No, this doesn't mean I'll be cutting back on the lattes. Please. One thing at a time.

Parchment Paper Bouquet

2010-07-20T17:04:00.004-04:00

When it comes to offering the gift of flowers, you don't have to spend a fortune. Browsing the selection at your local grocery/convenience store is, well, convenient (and cost savvy). The cellophane and wad of rubber bands, however, leave much to be desired in the presentation department. Stick with one flower, like a dozen roses, or buy flowers within the same color scheme. I bought these flowers from Whole Foods today and wrapped them in parchment paper, then tied them with some kitchen twine. So simple and yet so classic, it looks as though I picked these by hand. I adore the Queen Anne's Lace with the hydrangeas. I couldn't choose between the two photographs; I'm desperately in love with both.

Yadda, Yadda, Yadda

2010-07-13T15:06:00.003-04:00

I'm not really that big into quotes. I don't have a portfolio of handy-dandy one-liners to go with every situation, so when I come across a good one I start applying it to everything. At the moment I'm mesmerized by the following; "Communication isn't what's said. It's what's heard." There's an element of accountability embedded in this quote, which is perhaps what sparked my interest in the first place. I've often thought of communication as the willingness to talk, but it seems that in order to be heard we need to consider how we package our truth. Communication is a two-fold meditation, implying that we be mindful of how someone else might best absorb our words and more importantly, that we be very clear with ourselves about what it is that we want to say.

Hindsight being 20/20, I can look back on some of my more unproductive conversations and pinpoint a fairly obvious trend ... I wasn't really listening. I mean, all of the necessary ingredients were present, none the least of which was my actual presence and willingness to pay attention, but I was too busy having my own little conversation in my mind to hear what was being said. In fact, the best examples of my worst attempts at communication are those in which I was reliving the past (and subsequently predicting the future). Instead of actually participating in the conversation, I brought all my baggage to the table as evidence of how I expected the discussion to unfold. My adversary could talk and talk and not one bit of it would soak in because my version of the story was far easier to believe. It's like communicative craft time: cutting and pasting the parts that supported my agenda and inserting them into my well-written plot. Somehow my deepest fears and my darkest thoughts felt more comforting than the truth of the moment.

These seeds (or samskaras, as they're called in sanskrit) of our past experiences filter the words of another in ways that serve to validate our experience. Every time we water them we invite them to take over, like weeds in a garden, suffocating the healthy plants and making it more difficult for us to see the reality of the moment. BKS Iyengar writes in Light On Life, "We all know that a scab that we constantly pick will not heal. In the same way we have to let old wounds in memory heal over. This does not mean repressing them. It means that what is not fed will wither." Our efforts in communication can either serve our samskaras or our higher truth. It's a constant, moment-to-moment choice and one that requires practice.

Going back to my handy-dandy quote, we must acknowledge that this whole weed infestation problem most likely exists in the minds of those with whom we're trying to communicate. Telling someone how we feel is great, but we often underestimate the power and consequence of our words. Satya (truthfulness) must be tempered with ahimsa (non-violence). Compassion and patience are necessary to identify the most effective modes of transportation for your message. Learning where their seeds are planted can help you navigate the path and shed light on what your words sound like on the receiving end. The skill of hearing and being heard is a tool to affect positive change. As darkness from the past starts to brighten and anxiety about the unknown dissolves, truth becomes a two-way street.

My samskaras usually keep me one step behind or one step ahead of the conversation and so my work is to do my best to leave the baggage at home and sit in the truth of the moment. Then, and only then, am I really living in the now. Anything else is simply a fabrication of the mind. I'm learning that interactions can be intimate, real, and uplifting when I keep my heart open to giving and receiving truth. "Communication isn't what's said. It's what's heard." Great quote.

Dear John

2010-07-09T07:54:00.000-04:00

There are those people in the world who see things you never thought to see before. They're our sources of inspiration and our gurus of possibility. In the world of style and home decor, I gravitate towards designers who embrace my ideal of the home (more on that as this blog evolves) and who empower me to break the rules and trust my instincts. As my students often remind me, it's important to tell these people how they inspire your life. Dear John, this one's for you.

I don't think there's anyone who has cast an influence so far-reaching in the design world today as John Derian. His hodgepodge of collectibles and oddities are arranged in such an organized mess that you feel as if you've stepped into a story rather than a store. Beyond his impeccable taste is his eye for the unusual and his talent in mixing the obvious with the unsung heroes of a room. Browsing his store on 2nd and 2nd takes me hours, as I have to loop around more than once just to soak it all in. Like wandering the streets of New York, the trick to spotting John's talent is to look up. He manages to fill every square inch of space with objects that seem to reflect his heartfelt devotion to hearth and home. He reinvents the idea of versatility, appreciating a piece for what it is and yet trusting that it can take on an unexpected role.

Derian's vision has infiltrated the product lines of well-known brands (I've spotted reproductions of antique rope buoys on more than one occasion) and has redefined the art of propping merchandise. After visiting his store, I'm motivated to reinvent what I already have by arranging my home in a new way. It's the "beginner's mind" of decorating: seeing everything as if for the very first time. What I love is that his innovation seems to be almost by accident. As a bystander, I get the sense that John is just being John.

I wanted to ask him about his yoga - the things/places/activities that connect him most to himself. "Nature keeps me very connected," he told me. "Wherever I am I take note and reflect. I also think the flea market on Saturday mornings keeps me inspired." (Agreed! A post on Alan Miller from The 25th Street Garage is coming soon!) John's philosophy on life informs his design philosophy. "My work, which is all about natural imagery, is another way for us to relate to nature. It sort of brings nature indoors." Derian's decoupage pieces are stunning and reflect his art-imitates-life mantra. (They're also the perfect gift and can reincarnate from serving cheese to adorning your walls.)

His top five cannot-live-without items should come as no surprise: nature ("I am feeling like my theme song could be 'Nature Boy' [by] Nat King Cole"), friends and loved ones, his bike, his house, and a tub. "Taking baths brings me peace," he explained. Some of his favorite things: his computer and his iPhone (which perhaps explains the need for peace), RRL clothes, Astier de Villatte dinnerware and flatware, and (my personal favorite) nice bedding. He sells Mateo sheets at his store; one word ... divine.

His respect for what "is" -- the recognition of an object's true nature -- and his desire to let it shine are what I admire most about Derian. Seeing the beauty in all things, after all, is what yoga's all about. Thank you, John, for reminding me that style has no rules and that really good things happen when you do what you love.

Homemade Headboard

2010-07-06T13:57:00.012-04:00

When it comes to buying furniture I believe in investing in versatile pieces that you adore. Accumulating what you love is a slow and deliberate process. It also requires the art of prioritizing...knowing which pieces are necessary to "make" a room and which ones can wait. Following this mantra has allowed me to decorate my home without breaking the bank. That said, there are still some big items I'm living without...namely, a bed.

The last time I had a headboard I was sleeping in my childhood bedroom. I've always thought it would be nice to have a bed but I certainly wasn't losing sleep over it. I had survived just fine without one and, despite bouts of longing, could never really find what I was looking for. So, I decided to wait.

Fast forward ten years and my bedroom was looking naked. I needed something to anchor the room and it occurred to me that maybe I could pull off the structure I was looking for without actually buying a bed. My story now takes us to the plumbing department at Home Depot. The first things on our shopping list were three black iron pipes cut to our specified lengths (measure both the width of your bed and how tall you want your headboard to be) and two elbows to connect them all together.

Two bases (called "flanges") provided the foundation on which our homemade headboard could stand. Billy bought four U bolts to attach the headboard to the bed frame (genius man).

Ok, so that's the boring part. Bring someone with you to Home Depot who likes that sort of thing. The fun started when I got to rummage through my antique linen sheets to find something beautiful to drape over the hardware! I have tons of monogrammed sheets, none of which have my initials on them but I don't really care. The hand-stitched embroidery is so gorgeous that my name can be whatever goes with the sheets. We covered the top of our "headboard" with foam pipe insulation to keep the sheet clean (and to add some depth).

The finished product is so unique and versatile, as I can always change the color and texture of the backdrop. I love the industrial look of the hardware juxtaposed with the softness of the linen. A little creativity goes a long way!

Guest House

2010-06-24T14:14:00.018-04:00

My home is happy when it's full of company. It's the Oscars of the domestic craft and an opportunity to practice my life's motto "what's mine is yours". More than orchestrating an elaborate welcome committee of ironed linens and luxurious goodies, when it comes to making your guests feel at home it's truly the thought that counts.

My strategy is always motivated by what I would love as a guest. As much as I crave the familiar when I travel, I also love taking advantage of being away from my routine (and my comfort zone) to indulge in things that I wouldn't normally be inclined to enjoy at home. I think the key is to think both inside and outside the box. Yes, you need to have a spare toothbrush and toothpaste on hand, but what about all the little things one forgets to pack? A stroll down the travel sample aisle can alleviate the need for your visitors to ask you for a razor or some shampoo. House all of the necessities in a basket and you'll be giving your guests permission to help themselves without having to say a word.

My favorite part of preparing for my guests' arrival is being creative in how I display all of the wildly indulgent accoutrements I've gathered for their stay! I like to find unique and unexpected containers from around my apartment. I bought this old tack box from Smith and Chang in Jersey City and stuffed it with a turkish hammam towel from my travels, a sea sponge and some soaps and oils for the bath.

A small vase of flowers next to where they sleep is a simple and beautiful way to let them know you're happy they're there. It doesn't have to be a grandiose display...in the photo below, one stem cut from my flower boxes did the trick.

I like to save unsuspecting treats like perfume and lotion samples, which are fun to experiment with when you're away from home. They feel decadent when displayed on a silver tray.

I keep a pile of magazines and books in an old french market basket next to their bed.

A tour of the fridge and a pot of coffee made the night before allow your guests to wake up without you. Have fun with the preparations and let your enthusiasm infiltrate everything you do. "Love and beauty are within you. Try to express them through your actions and you will definitely touch the very source of bliss." -Amma

Friendly Mantras

2010-06-20T17:22:00.012-04:00

If I'm having a bad day I usually call up one of my girlfriends to remind me that my life is actually a bright and sunny place. They're remarkable, good friends, because they know exactly how to snap you out of it. Truth be told, our friends are usually a heck of a lot nicer to us than we are to ourselves. If we asked our friends to describe us they would make us blush. We might be told that we're compassionate, strong, beautiful and inspirational. If we asked ourselves we would probably just go on and on about how we're not good enough and it would be as if we were talking about a completely different person.

The problem with this unending negative chatter is that all of those seemingly innocent, self-deprecating thoughts string together to create deeply-rooted beliefs about who we are. After all, a belief is just a thought we have over and over again...it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Borrowing from neurologist Dr. Joe Dispenza in the brilliant (but weird) documentary, What the Bleep Do We Know, our brain releases thought-specific chemicals that circulate through our bodies and are absorbed by our cells. Every time we think "I am not enough", our cells are swimming in our negativity. The cells divide and their sister cells are born with more receptors to accept these popular chemicals. Addicted to our own mantras, we become what we think.

What would your friends have to say about all of this?! They would slap you across the face and tell you to quit making your body a breeding ground for such atrocities! Your inner circle is potentially the most accurate reflection of your true Self. They're able to see through your cloud of ignorance and identify you as a keeper. They've earned access to your heart with their consistent support and encouragement of the you you're often quick to shoot down. They walked you down from the ledge of "not enough" and empowered you to embrace your potential.

Your homework is to meditate on those positive mantras. Close your eyes and ask yourself what your friends would say about you and then create a mantra using their words. Every time you observe yourself undermining the words of your girlfriends, image what they'd say to get you back on track ("Snap out of it!"). Visualize your friends circled around you, each one reflecting the real you back to you. "I am wise. I am strong. I am beautiful". Repeat and be prepared to smile.

Yogi Dinner

2010-06-15T14:46:00.006-04:00

Hell froze over last Saturday when Billy (carnivore and hater of green vegetables) suggested I cook gluten-free pasta for our friends Katie (vegan with a gluten allergy) and Keith (vegetarian). This coming from the man who drinks Coca-Cola to stay hydrated - I almost died from the shock. "Hey, if it's bad we can always just order a pizza." I appreciated his flexibility but that's not how I roll. Then again, I had to admit that vegan and gluten-free cooking was beyond my comfort zone of butter, flour and cream. Plus, I had a busy day on Saturday and needed to find something quick and easy to cook after teaching yoga for eight hours. I was hoping that with a little finesse I could make this gluten-free pasta work.

I needed maximum flavor in the form of vegetables (in any color other than green). My saving grace came in the form of cherry tomatoes. Roasted for twenty minutes at 400 degrees, they pop and ooze and (when drizzled with olive oil) make their own perfect sauce. I sautéed some shallots in olive oil and said a little prayer as I threw the DeBoles Gluten-Free Multi Grain Penne into the pot. The box said 12-15 minutes which sounded suspicious so I set the timer for 8 minutes in the hopes of catching it before it got soggy. No such luck. After 8 minutes it was pretty mushy but it didn't really matter once I doused it in goat cheese (for the non-vegans)! Goat cheese makes everything taste better, especially with the roasted tomato/shallot combination. (Note to my readers: You can obviously make this dish with any pasta you want. The roasted tomatoes are like candy and the goat cheese just melts in your mouth.) The final product? Billy went back for seconds! Katie was happy and I was thrilled that I'd managed to pull of a tasty meal without the use of butter.

I had set the table the night before knowing that there wouldn't be enough time when I got home from work. Instead of buying flowers I just used things already in my home. The thyme plant looked rustic and wild in the center of the table and I threw some lemons in an old ironstone bowl for color. I served my new favorite Cabernet, California Karma, which was a cheeky addition to our yogi dinner. There was no time to cook dessert so I bought fresh cherries from the farmers' market.

More than the food, I truly enjoyed the gift of a relaxing evening with good friends. We talked from the heart and laughed till we cried. Ellie loved being the center of attention and was so excited to play with her godparents. She collapsed at the end of the night, exhausted from happiness.

Lipstick Kick

2010-06-11T16:32:00.006-04:00

As many of you know, I've gone off the lipstick deep end. I find this to be noteworthy because for years I was unconsciously convinced that yoga teachers didn't wear makeup. I'm not sure where I picked this up, but I've been obeying my self-imposed uniform for years. Tired of my neutral palate, I dove into color and I finally feel like my lips match my mood! This post is dedicated to those of you who've asked me to dish the make and number of my new favorites. Hey, yoga teachers can look good!

On the far left is the perfect neutral pink; Chanel Rouge Allure #82. In the middle is a bright but clean color from Chanel; Rouge Coco #34. The one on the far right is a "won't lose you in a crowd" fuchsia that I adore (which I'm wearing in the above picture); Giorgio Armani, Rouge d'Armani #514. I apply the lipsticks with a lip brush for a more casual look (no pencil). You're gonna look so colorful demonstrating handstand!

Strawberry Delight

2010-05-29T16:47:00.003-04:00

It's that time of year, when strawberries actually taste like strawberries, and the Union Square market is overflowing with them. Nothing goes better with fresh strawberries than fresh rhubarb and I happen to have a fantastic recipe for a compote involving the two. Spoon it over vanilla ice cream and you get this melted strawberry rhubarb concoction that's to die for.

The measurements are haphazard at best, so you can channel your inner chef and just throw things together without a care in the world. Cut up your strawberries into halves or quarters (whatever you like) and cut the rhubarb into 1/2 inch pieces. Dump them into a pot with 1/2 cup sugar and 1/4 c water, letting them simmer over high heat (stirring every once in a while) until the rhubarb becomes soft (you should be able to break it up with a wooden spoon). The timing really depends on how ripe the rhubarb is, so it could take anywhere from 8 - 15 minutes. Let your compote cool a bit and then pop it in the fridge.

I like to serve this dessert in clear glasses so you can see the colors oozing together, savoring the experience with your eyes as well as your stomach.

All Hail the Kale

2010-05-23T14:07:00.005-04:00

I've always wanted to love kale but we've never really met under the right circumstances. It's just so darn large and leafy (and boring). Steamed kale is chewy. Raw kale is awkward. What's an amateur health nut to do?

Cut the kale into friendly, bite-sized pieces, of course! Think coleslaw - thin strips of green goodness without the mayo. I tossed in some black-eyed peas (the food) and parmesan cheese (cut into small chunks) to add texture and protein. A lemon vinaigrette was just the tang it needed (1/4 c lemon juice, 1/2 t salt, 1/4 t pepper - whisk in 1/2 c olive oil). I'm obsessed with my new creation and pretty excited to have found a way to love me some kale!

Vive la France! Dimanche

2010-05-21T18:51:00.017-04:00

There's an infamous sutra in the first pada of Patanjali's text which describes our thoughts as either painful or painless (sutra 1.5). I feel most connected to this concept when I'm on vacation, where the bliss of one's arrival is swiftly replaced by the dread of going home. I hadn't really felt the pangs of leaving until Sunday, which is a testament to how much Paris holds my attention in the present moment. I'm so completely and utterly content that nothing exists beyond the splendors of my surroundings. The sights, the smells, the tastes...they cast their spell on me and I'm as bewitched as I was the very first time I discovered a croque madame made with goat cheese.

I can document my trip with sutras the way some might illustrate with postcards. Carrie Owerko discussed sutra 3.1 in a teachers' workshop earlier this week. "Dharana (concentration) is the binding of the mind to one place, object or idea." It's no wonder, given this idea, that I felt so clear, bright and still over those four incredible days. Granted, I was on vacation, so there were no bills (foreign currency to me is like Monopoly money), no responsibilities and no stress. It's a bit like fantasy land, and yet, nothing feels more real to me than being at home in a place and with people who reflect my true image back to a heart that sometimes feels lost. "The seen exists only for the sake of the Seer" (sutra 2.21).

So, how to spend our last day? At the flea market, of course! This time we perused the goods at Marché Vernaison Saint-Ouen de Clignancourt. The prices are more expensive than those at Porte de Vanves, mainly because vendors rent stalls instead of occupying a piece of sidewalk, but you can find great deals on amazing french housewares like linens, china, and classic french bric-a-brac (think big espresso bowls and red-striped dish towels). Billy tells anyone who'll listen about the time I spent two hours pouring over stacks of antique linen sheets in stall 141 only to have the owner remind me "vous pouvez revenir madame". Oh, and I certainly did. I outfitted every bed in our apartment with vintage monogrammed sheets (some might see this as a strange and troubling issue but let's be honest, you're now secretly hoping to score an invite to sleepover). This trip was equally as successful. I shopped victoriously, scoring a tiny silver tray and some serviettes de visages (lintless towels made especially for the face).

Our next stop was a tour through Le Marais, one of the only neighborhoods open on a Sunday. It's the Soho of Paris, only more french (obviously) as evident in the quaint gardens, medieval stone buildings and chic boutiques. I happened upon a great clothing store named Claudie Pierlot where I bought a beautiful navy blue silk dress (those perfect dresses only arrive when you're not looking). A park bench in Place des Vosges provided the perfect place to rest my legs. The hours passed by as we wandered hand-in-hand on this quintessential Parisian Sunday. A late lunch of moules frites hit the spot and signaled our eventual return to Hôtel Verneuil.

Our evening unfolded at Deux Magots for wine and dinner (salade de fromage). We sat outside and soaked in the crisp night air and the buzz of Boulevard Saint Germain. I felt bold in a bright orange dress and stop-you-in-the-street-"I love your shoes" stilettos. It was exactly how I dreamt our last night would be. I wanted to take a piece of this amazing place home with me, but then I remembered that home is where the heart is and I smiled with delight.

"By contentment, supreme joy is gained" (sutra 2.42).

fin

Vive la France! Samedi

2010-05-09T16:43:00.031-04:00

It was a beautiful Saturday in Paris. We savored our breakfast ritual at Café de Flore before we were off to scour Porte de Vanves for treasure! I've been a hunter and gatherer ever since I can remember, thanks entirely to my mother who (bless her heart) would chart our European vacations around the flea market schedules in each town. Porte de Vanves is only a few blocks away from the metro bearing the same name and is open on Saturdays and Sundays from 8am until around 11am. Follow the historic signs, or ask in your best french accent "oooo ey le marshay O pewce?"

Billy has only one firm rule: "If you buy it, you carry it." This, of course, is a joke for a professional like myself as I'm more than capable of getting just about anything home. Once in a while I'll shop with something very specific in mind, but most of the time I let the object find me. Our souls collide and, despite our vastly different histories, we know we were meant to be together. (My soul was drawn to every single painting in the photo below, but my financial karma kept us apart.)

It was a gorgeous day and les puces were out in full force. It's amazing how quickly people connect - gatherer and hunter can chat about the stamp on the back of a spoon, the date of an oil painting or the story of a rug. I met one such lady (Martine of 2 ou 3 Choses) as I fawned over her collection of silver flatware. She was an absolute delight and very excited to share her trucs. Martine is a true yogi, allowing things to come and go, happy to share her spoils (whereas I, on the other hand, simply hoard and have yet to fully grasp sutra II.39).

I learned some interesting trivia regarding French silver - the engravings are placed on the back of each piece (whereas in England they're placed on the front) which explains why, in a good French restaurant, you'll find the silverware face down on the table (so you can see the silver stamps and the engraving)! I just can't get over the fact that there was a time when you had all of your silver engraved and all of your linens monogrammed and I think this explains why I love old things - they have a past which adds great depth to what would otherwise be just an ordinary object. I left Porte de Vanves with a beautiful set of silver-plated flatware, a very old oil painting (a portrait of a woman) and some linen napkins with my initials on them. My heart was as light and happy as it could possibly be.

Our afternoon was perfectly lazy. More baguettes. More aimless wandering. I felt incredibly blessed to be in Paris with no agenda and so grateful to spend this precious time with the person I love most in this world.

Dinner at Brasserie Lipp was tellement bon - roast chicken and french fries! Lipp is a very old, very smart establishment where you can enjoy classic french cuisine. Seeing as it's directly across the street from our beloved breakfast hang-out, our day had truly come full circle.

Vive la France! Vendredi

2010-05-04T16:18:00.027-04:00

Our day began as any day should...with croissants and café crème. I swear to God I could eat this every single morning and my heart would be so happy it would surely keep beating despite the high cholesterol. I love how they give you a pitcher of espresso and a pitcher of steamed milk so you can create your own perfect cup of goodness. I sat there with Billy at Café de Flore watching my favorite city welcome the new day. There was a woman sitting nearby wearing Christian Louboutain snakeskin heels and in that moment I couldn't think of anything more amazing than wearing Louboutains to breakfast. Then I ate my pain au chocolat...alas, more amazing.

Our plan for the day was to visit the Rodin Museum and then basically wander the streets of Paris until we got lost. We got to the museum a little too early and so we decided to head across the street towards a huge cathedral to see if we could poke around. Turns out we had landed ourselves at Napoleon's tomb and Les Invalides, which is exactly the way I like to do sightseeing...completely by accident! We picked up des baguettes parisiennes on our way back to Musée Rodin and (I kid you not) it was the most ridiculous bread I've ever eaten. Ridiculous I tell you! That said, I've failed us both by not writing down the name of the bakery and so it seems as though I must return to Paris again so I can eat more of this bread and pass along its creators to you. (I thought I could find the name of the bakery in this photo I took, but all you can see is the name of the flour mill! Still, you get to see the little man making the bread).

It was a gorgeous day and the Rodin Museum was everything I wanted it to be and more. I was inspired by Camille Claudel's pieces which, juxtaposed alongside those of Rodin, clearly conveyed not only her talent but the heartbreak and madness she endured when Rodin left her. (I did a project on Camille Claudel in high school and her work is breathtaking up close). I especially loved her piece, Vertumnus et Pomona (below). We ate our ridiculous sandwiches in le jardin du musée. The gardens were beautiful...lilacs and peonies galore (my favorites)!

Après le dèjeuner we crossed the Seine to visit Merci, the new concept store created by the owners of Bonpoint (a luxury children's clothing company). It was an interesting mèlange of housewares, vintage and luxury clothing and a collection of things you didn't know you needed, like perfume and scotch tape in a rainbow of colors. The space itself was impressive...sun-drenched and airy, with nooks and crannies full of carefully chosen (and extremely creative) inventory. All of their employees wore these perfectly simple red linen aprons which, to my blissful surprise, were for sale! I now look très chic in the kitchen.

It's always around four o'clock when my legs feel like they need to be amputated, so we dragged ourselves back to our hotel where I practiced my trusty travel restorative sequence. Viparita Karani followed by Supta Padangusthasana and Supta Baddha Konasana put the spring back in my step and we galloped off to dinner at Le Petit Prince (près du Panthéon, sur rue de Lanneau). Actually, we didn't gallop. We took a taxi. It was an incredibly cool taxi whose sunroof spanned the length of the car. We could see the rooftops of Paris and all the little gems one tends to miss.

As a true gourmande, I washed down my terrine de fois gras de canard maison with a glass of Bordeaux. Then it was back to Bistro de Paris for tarte aux pommes avec glace vanille. We strolled along the Seine and caught a glimpse of the Louvre at night and I remembered that this is where I belong.

Vive la France! Jeudi

2010-04-27T16:23:00.025-04:00

I just spent five of the most delectable days in Paris with my sweetheart. Good fortune arrived in the form of a hassle-free flight and it was, quite honestly, the most delightful time I've ever had at an airport (une victoire given the volcanic ash debacle). We waited to board our plane at a great little wine place in Newark Airport called Vino Volo where I sipped the most delicious Cabernet from Obsidian Ridge Vineyard. The only reason I remember the name is because it's printed on the coaster they give you...ingenious! I can't believe I'm raving about an airport depot but trust me, it was that good.

Once at Charles de Gaulle, we hopped on the RER and rode it straight into Paris....the fastest (and at 8,50 euros, the cheapest) way to go. Even a confident french speaker can get flustered post-international flight, so I brushed up on the train information before we left. Our beloved hotel was happy to greet us and only a five minute walk from the Saint-Germain metro stop. Hôtel Verneuil is nestled on rue de Verneuil, a quiet street two blocks from the Seine. It feels removed while still being in the heart of the 6eme. The rooms are teeny-tiny mais tellement charmants. The hotel boasts post and beam ceilings, classic decor and genuine warmth. Je l'adore!

Lunch hit the spot...warm goat cheese tartines served over salad. Divine. We meandered around Saint Germain and stopped by La Grande Épicerie de Paris on rue de Sèvres, as it's always ideal to browse a french grocery store after you've already eaten. This store is impeccable - a feast for the eyes dotted with bottles of wine and beautiful displays. Speaking of wine, I especially loved their collection of demi-bouteilles (half-bottles) and I'm inspired to seek them out at home. The cheese department at Épicerie brings a whole new meaning to the word department. I've never seen so much cheese in my life. Brilliant!

Bon Marché, my favorite department store of all time (and sister store to La Grande Épicerie), is located right across the street. This Parisian landmark is beyond chic and a must-see on your tour through la Rive Gauche. I bought some more Chanel lipstick (I'm on a lipstick kick) and wandered through the home goods on the third floor. It was orange, orange everywhere...definitely the color of the moment.

On our way back to the hotel we passed by Deyrolle, the famous taxidermy shop on rue du Bac. It reminds me of a french Natural History Museum where you can buy everything from gardening tools to books on butterfly collectors. After the devastating fire in 2008, Deyrolle has emerged from the ashes as the always beautiful house of curiosities.

A hidden flower shop on rue du Bac caught my eye. Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?

That evening we stumbled upon our new favorite restaurant, Le Bistro de Paris, on rue de Lille (one street from our hotel). I can't say enough about this gem - in fact, you're allowed to go but just don't tell anyone else! The food was exceptional, the ambiance typiquement francais and the service beyond compare. Our waiters made the experience so memorable that we returned every evening for dessert and wine and good cheer.

Ode to Olio Lusso

2010-04-20T11:31:00.016-04:00

Linda Rodin turns out to be my long-lost soul sister. We both adore shelling, scouring the flea markets for treasure and red lipstick. I met Linda when I discovered her luxurious face oil, Olio Lusso, which has been a savior to my sensitive skin. The elixir is made up of 11 essential oils and smells divine. I'm eternally devoted. I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon with Linda in her eclectic and loving home for a glass of vino (screw top Pinot Grigio served in small vintage glasses) to chat about home, passions and (of course) Olio Lusso.

Opening the door to her apartment, Linda greeted me wearing a St. Jame's-inspired striped shirt and skinny jeans...her hair swept back, her face fresh and her lips bright. There's an effortlessness about her, which seems fitting given that this woman was a fashion editor at Harper's Bazaar and has been freelance styling for more than 20 years. Her home is colorful and airy and full of shiny objects ("Glitter is good!" she says). It's a veritable feast for the eyes, with trinkets and photos and objets d'art. "I'd rather be home than anywhere else. I'm not necessarily a lighthearted person--I think a lot--but I think life is beautiful and I want to be surrounded by beautiful things. I want to be inspired by what I see."

I asked Linda what inspires her and she immediately responded by saying "a fresh face!" Her visage is the example; Linda never wears makeup...just red lips. I was so inspired by this look that I bought Chanel lipstick (Rouge Coco #34) and copied her style for the ASPCA Bergh Ball. She also insists on a great pair of jeans (her favorites are made by UNIQLO). "Just be as natural as you can be. That's the credo of my oils...'Be the best you can be naturally.' "

And that's exactly what they do. Olio Lusso was developed on Linda's living room floor à la chemistry class and the results of her efforts were given to friends at photo shoots and runway shows until the word spread and she was making 100 to 200 bottles a weekend. "I really didn't expect this to become a business," says Linda, but she knew she needed to make her homegrown oil official. "My nephew helped me measure my recipe, pouring each oil into vials until we were able to replicate it perfectly. It's the same combination I've used since the very beginning." My devotion to Olio Lusso is bhakti at its best. Her oil has become my go-to elixir for a healthy, radiant glow.

Home Practice - Parsva Bakasana

2010-04-18T19:31:00.012-04:00

Ah, spring...the perfect time to embrace change, scrub your home clean and wring out your organs with some twists (what a lovely trilogy). There's no reason why we can't combine them all into one practice. The correlation between housework and yoga is as yet undetermined, however I feel a strong connection to my abdominal obliques while vacuuming the dog hair off my antique oriental rug. This preparatory work leads nicely to Parsva Bakasana, an arm balance with innumerable opportunities to examine and even surmount your aversion(s) to change.

Props required:

mat
blankets
block
vacuum
rug
golden retriever (for advanced practioners)
mop
ironing board and iron

Preparatory poses:

Vacuuming
This prep pose is extremely effective if vacuuming a small rug (4x6 to 5x8), where you will need to stabilize the rug with your feet to prevent it from sliding. Visualize pulling the sides of the rug together with your feet, which requires you to adduct your thighs - the same action necessary to squeeze your legs together in our peak pose. Bend your knees and draw the navel towards the spine to stabilize your lumbar. Use long, aggressive strokes and be sure to alternate sides as you vacuum (15-20 times per side).

Mopping
An excellent workout for your abdominal obliques. To maximize your results, let your floors get really dirty so you'll have to do some serious scrubbing (for the advanced student: using eco-friendly cleaner is good for your home and your abdominals). Again, equal strokes on both sides.

Ironing
This is a perfect restorative cool-down. Gentle twisting motions pair beautifully with the japa (repetition) of ironing, eliciting a relaxation response. Scenting your linens with a lavender spray adds a soothing aromatherapy component.

Parivrtta Parsvakonasana
A fantastic prep pose for Parsva Bakasana. Adducting your thighs will help to align the pelvis and stabilize your sacrum. Take your time shimmying into the pose, using the inhale to lift the ribcage away from the front thigh and the exhale to deepen your twist. Press your front knee into your tricep and visa versa, simulating the connection necessary in our peak pose. A block can be used on the outside of the foot when exploring the final posture.
(Modifications: back heel at wall for stability, block on inside of front foot for space).

Parivrtta Trikonasana
Straight legs and an asymmetrical foundation make this pose an excellent lesson in finding the compactness of Parsva Bakasana. Strongly firm your outer hips in. Broaden the collar bones and exhale to rotate the torso. Hint: If placing your hand/block outside the front foot, move it behind your ankle which allows you to anchor your bottom forearm against your front shin. This provides both stability and leverage.
(Modifications: same as Parivrtta Parsvakonasana. Prasarita Padottanasana with a twist for beginners).

Peak Pose: Parsva Bakasana

There are many ways to come into Side Crow. I first learned this posture from Pasasana (twisting in a deep squat, ankles and knees together) with blankets under my heels. Blankets allow you to be there for a while and work the twist. Better yet, place those blankets a foot away from a wall (Pasasana with right hip facing wall first) and use your fingertips on the wall (nine o'clock and one o'clock, race car style) to aid in the rotation of your trunk. Repeat to the left. Bring those discoveries to the center of the room and place your hands on the floor (fingertips pointing in the direction of the twist). Squeeze your thighs together in the same way you practiced while vacuuming your rug and climb your knees as high up onto your arm as possible! Look forward, exhale and we have lift off!

Another entrance is via Marichyasana C. Sit up on at least two blankets, which (once your hands are on the floor) allows your knee to climb higher up your arm. Stage one is to lift the pelvis off the blankets - the beauty of this transition is that students can access the abdominal work necessary to one day practice Parsva Bakasana, regardless of whether or not their feet are off the floor. Assuming we're doing the right side first, stage two is to step the left foot in slightly and rest on the ball of the foot. Stage three is to lift the right foot off the ground and the final stage is to place the left leg on top. Voila! You'll find the pose in every stage.

Musical Mats

2010-04-08T22:55:00.008-04:00

I've noticed that finding a spot for one's yoga mat in a crowded class is like trying to sit at the cool kids' table during lunch. It's the bane of a yogi's existence, both for those who've already found their place in the room as well as for those who must navigate the sea of stoic bodies. The battle of the mats sets a tone for the class and before you know it students are vying for spots at the wall and full ownership of props. I once took an Iyengar workshop where a woman barked at me for accidentally taking her bolster ("that's mine!"). Curious. I was under the mistaken impression that A) the props were the property of the studio, B) that they are, to the best of my knowledge, not monogrammed and C) that sharing might be considered (to some) a pillar of yoga. These bullet points arose through heated and well-rehearsed inner monologues subsequent to this little showdown...a good 48 hours later, to be exact, but I can tell you that a lecture on aprigrahah (non-hoarding) was definitely part of my script.

Anyway, back to the bit about finding a spot for your mat. For those in the trenches strategizing your approach, you must size up your fellow practioners in order to locate a willing (read "weak" for "willing") volunteer who might consider moving a few inches to the right. The possibility of a conversation (where one could ask relevant questions pertaining to willingness and spacial relations) is out of the question. A plan must be orchestrated ahead of time, especially since you're pretty sure that those already established in the room want you dead. Having found your "in", you walk unobtrusively (keep your head down) towards your spot only to be greeted with expressions of utter distain. To be fair, you were expecting this, but you still feel small and slightly guilty for disrupting their space. By "their space", I mean the magnetic field that surrounds their mat and extends at least five feet past the perimeter. You quickly glance into their eyes to judge your next move - a critical step. It's all very National Geographic. You're pretty sure you're experiencing a fight or flight response (luckily for you, you're in a yoga class). If you're really lucky they'll quietly move to the right, but more often than not they'll flash you a look of disgust so that you're absolutely, positively aware of your own ignorant audacity. Once seated, don't make any sudden or extraneous movements. Just sit there, dammit, and keep quiet. That same person who wants you dead is now going to warm up before class with a few handstands and an arm balance. Now look who you've chosen to reckon with. Way to go.

I've been "that" girl far too many times than seems appropriate for the yoga world, but I've also been the one whose universe has been rattled in the name of making space. It's only fair to defend the other side by saying that some yogis' approach in asking for a few extra inches seems far more like a fanny pack-sporting American in Paris than a polite, unassuming comrade. Is it that we feel they're only looking out for themselves? Do we see them as unconscious and communally-challenged practioners, like someone whose poor parallel parking job has cost you two potential parking spots? Or is it possible that having once been the victim of an obnoxious mat smack-down, we're more motivated to stand our ground? Perhaps, in our minds, their presence threatens to encroach on our experience. We fear that the precious time on our mat will be spoiled by the breathing of another. I think it's this fantasy of the perfect experience that gets us into this mess in the first place, because yogic perfection is just that - a fantasy. As proof, let me just say that I've traveled all the way to the jungles of India in quest for truth from a yoga guru only to have him interrupt me so he could answer his cell phone. The desire for space is valid, especially in a crowded studio, yet it presents us with an opportunity to practice our yoga...yes, our asana but really, our yoga. If sun salutations and inversions can't better equip us for life on the outside (or in this case, the inside), then why are we there? Yoga is skill in action. Acting in the spirit of yoga in a yoga class (novel, really) requires great skill. I know it's hard - trust me, I know. I encounter the same karma on Amtrak, where the loud and crude seem to always find the seat next to mine, despite my attempts at making it look occupied or by pretending to be asleep.

I've taken the liberty of offering you some mantras to aid you in this dog eat downdog world.

For the yogi happily settled on their mat:

Loka Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu

May all beings everywhere be happy and free. May my thoughts, my words and my actions contribute in some way towards happiness and freedom for all, even the people who open their yoga mats with a big loud smack during OM.

For the yogis in the trenches, strategizing their entrace:

Om gam ganapataye namaha

Please Lord Ganesh, take your elephant trunk and get these people to move their mats so I can practice my yoga today. Thank you.

Embracing your sangha (community) may come with some surprise benefits, not the least of which is meeting people who share the same passion for yoga. You may find that there are others who struggle with inversions or who can't figure out Downdog. Maybe you find a true friend. I've seen many deep and sincere friendships develop from the shared experience of this practice. I even know a couple who recently got engaged after having met in a yoga class. Who knows...your graciousness may even spread to the movie theater, Amtrak regional trains or the airport. Flash a smile to your yogi neighbor and see what happens. We will all appreciate it.

Easter Party

2010-04-06T22:42:00.014-04:00

I threw an Easter extravaganza/birthday dinner for my Mom on Sunday, which was a blast...great food and great people. I had had grand visions of eating upstairs on my 9 foot farm table, which usually serves as my desk (I sit at one end, little me and my tiny laptop dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of what feels like a very droll piece of furniture). Fortunately for my vision, eleven people can only fit in one place...around a 9 foot farm table.

I bought a piece of linen from Gray Line Linens (an entire blog post will surely be devoted to this store...just wait) to create an earthy, casual feel. Mason jars, new and old, housed tulips and ranunculus which looked beautiful in small bouquets. I mixed-matched plates and silver. My grandmother's old green peacock dessert plates looked so festive and springy underneath my homemade apple and pear crumble.

I committed to keeping the menu simple, learning from past mistakes of cooking too many dishes and using recipes that required last-minute preparation. My new mantra goes something like this - if you're not having any fun, your guests definitely aren't having any fun. Less is more and organization is key. You have to be truly present...in the moment, with your guests and in the kitchen.

Appetizer

Homemade Rosemary Parmesan Crackers

Entrees

Ham and Biscuits

Shrimp and Creamy Rosemary Polenta

Cold Pesto Pasta Salad

Roasted Carrots and Asparagus

Desserts

Apple and Pear Crumble over Vanilla Ice Cream

Ginger Cookies

The rosemary parmesan crackers are delicious. Use a fork to combine a stick of softened butter with 2 cups of grated parmesan. Add 1 t of rosemary, 1/4 t salt and a 1/2 t of pepper. Pristinely clean hands can gradually mix in the last ingredient, 1 1/4 cups of flour. Roll into a long log and freeze for 15 minutes. Slice into 1/4 inch crackers and bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees or until golden brown. I know what you're thinking, but one cracker with a glass of cabernet never hurt anyone.

Recipe inspired by Ina Garten.

Spring Chicken

2010-03-25T14:30:00.005-04:00

Spring has sprung! I made this simple roast chicken one night after coming home late, desperate for a quick, scrumptious meal. One of the reasons I love cooking is that you can improvise and so I was thrilled when my rogue chicken experiment turned out to be mouth-watering! It's one of those meals where everything on the plate kind of oozes together and tastes amazing on the same fork. I licked my plate clean.

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.

You will need bone-in, skin-on organic chicken breasts. Billy and I usually share one, but I've also taken advantage of the "event" of cooking to roast two breasts and save one for leftovers. Using bone-in, skin-on breasts will give you tons of flavor, especially since you'll be roasting this at a high temperature. Pat them dry with paper towels (otherwise they won't brown).

Place the chicken breast(s) in a roasting pan and drizzle generously with olive oil. Using your hands, smear the olive oil all over so the entire breast is coated. Season well with salt and pepper. A little sprinkling of thyme is also nice. Place two whole, peeled garlic cloves underneath the chicken.

Peel and cut carrots (as many as you'd like) and arrange them around the chicken. Drizzle with olive oil (I have a heavy hand), salt and pepper. You need one lemon, and this is what I would do - squeeze half of the lemon over everything and then use your discretion with the other half, according to your taste. Lay the lemon halves in with the chicken and carrots, which adds to the flavor.

Now, up to this point things have been pretty healthy. If you're happy with the healthy factor then you're ready to go, but let's be honest, everything tastes better with butter. Only 2 T, melted and poured over the chicken breasts will create a crispy brown crust that adds to the overall "melt-in-your-mouth" experience. Use the butter.

Cover the chicken with foil and cook for 20 minutes. Take off the foil and cook for another 20-30 minutes.

Since my man loves potatoes, I roasted them right along side the chicken. Small yukon gold are the best - leave the skins on and quarter them. Olive oil, salt and pepper...toss with your hands. Be sure to stir them occasionally throughout the cooking process. Both the chicken and the potatoes should be done around the same time.

Parting words - folks, this recipe is not an exact science and having tried it numerous times without ever having written anything down, I see it as pretty much foolproof. Use your intuition, taste and mood to season as you see fit. Enjoy!

Pied Piper

2010-03-19T21:03:00.007-04:00

I just took the hardest yoga class of my life. Part of me feels speechless because it's difficult to come up with the words to describe my experience...to paint a picture that would take the reader into my world on my mat in that moment. Let me start by saying this; tonight I trekked along an arduous new path and found myself surprised by the results. My personal work was not to master one of the dozen or so different arm balances taught in class, but to force myself not to leave the room and waltz up to the front desk demanding a refund.

It was that bad. One might go so far as to say...cataclysmic.

I sensed the potential for disaster when the teacher put down her mat in the middle of the room, amongst her students as if she, herself, were taking the class, but as we closed our eyes she surprised me by introducing an interesting concept. Let go of expectations. Specifically, she asked us to let go of our expectations of her and ourselves "so that we wouldn't disappoint each other". She caught me red-handed, as I was already passing judgement on a teacher I knew nothing about and so I decided to let go of my standards and expectations and I dedicated my practice to the idea of letting go.

The universe responded with its usual dose of irony, opening the class with King Aurthur at the wall. The perfect overture. We then moved into Handstand, Pincha and Sirsasana because they were hard poses and so we should "just get them out of the way". Back to the center of the room and I have to be honest...from this point on its all kind of a blur. I remember doing push-ups and Bird of Paradise. Somehow we managed to fit so much into an hour and fifteen minute Level 2 class...Vasisthasana 2, Visvamitrasana, Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana (with the bind, of course), Eka Pada Koundinasana 2, Kapotasana, Prasarita into Sirsasana 2, and lots of push-ups in between (just to stay warm). She got sidetracked a few times and forgot her sequence on the other leg, but in her defense she was doing the entire practice with us so she was probably preoccupied with her alignment. At one point she interrupted her sequence and demanded that we jump ship and drop to the floor because "our abs song is on" (translation - the song to which we do abdominal work is now playing). We proceeded to do lots of crunches. It was a nice little sorbet to cleanse the palette before finishing her vinyasa on the left leg.

Oh, the vrttis in my mind. On the upside, I think I held the longest downdog of my life. It was like my safe house - the fallout shelter from the bomb that exploded in the room. I just kept waiting to catch up with the group in some posture I recognized, but I ended up waiting a really long time for that to happen, so I just kept holding downdog. I did a few things here and there, but towards the end I couldn't stop myself from climbing out of my storm cellar to witness the devastation. Dozens of unknowing bodies strewn this way and that - I just tried to wipe the horror off my face and resist the urge to get up and start offering modifications.

All I could think was "Oh my God. This exists out there. This is what people are practicing in the wild wild west" (or, in DC, as it turns out). My first reaction was to storm out (along with the other five people who left) and demand to speak to the owner. This woman needed to be expunged from the yoga universe. Surely once I explained that I was a teacher trainer...well, I mean, hmf, come on. Of course something would be done.

Hardly. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was my practice. While others were happily binding in Trikonasana, butts sticking out in blazing glory, I was the only one in the room organizing a coup d'etat. The tapas (sanskrit for "the willingness to endure intensity in the name of self-transformation") was not the blood and tears from jogging in downdog, but the discipline to be in the moment and witness my reactions to the madness. I wanted to yell out to the students "Come with me! I'll give you shelter!" but they were all too busy having a great time. My emotional implosion was mine and mine alone. There's a lesson here - one that's similar to the truths buried in the peak pose (which I was told was Vasisthasana 2 - thank goodness because there were a lot of potentials to choose from). Perfecting Vasisthasana 2 can only get you so far. Watching your own personal meltdown and subsequent reactions to the physical inadequacies preventing you from perfecting Vasisthasana 2 - now that's educational. My practice, tonight, was about letting go in the midst of the meltdown...and (side note) to disregard the wicked (sutra 1.33).

In summary, I'm reminded of a passage from the Bhagavad Gita; "Wise men do not unsettle the minds of the ignorant. Quietly acting in the spirit of yoga, they inspire the same". A few years ago I would've marched out of the room clanging all my bells in the name of principle and integrity, announcing the arrival of my opinions as if I were announcing the arrival of the British. Tonight I chose to be a Pied Piper of a quieter kind. I sat with what felt like the impossible and observed my desperation to leave. There was another girl across from me who had given up (for whatever reason) and taken a seat in meditation. I was inspired by her decision. Joining her in stillness, I found that I was able to rest in the eye of the storm. I later peaked at the room from my meditation and noticed that a few others had joined us. I left quietly after class and laughed at the smile on my face. Yes, it was the hardest class I've ever taken but somehow my willingness to do my yoga was both uplifting and enlightening. So, thank you, teacher, for offering me the opportunity to practice tapas, stillness and to enjoy the wonder of letting go.

The morning after

2010-02-25T15:28:00.006-05:00

Never show up to someone's home empty-handed...that's my rule. An invitation to a party or dinner usually prompts a trip to our local liquor store for a bottle of wine - something your host or hostess can open on a separate occasion but which they may feel (unofficially) required to open upon your arrival.

To think outside the box, a truly thoughtful "thank you" can come in a simple, unique form. I love the idea of a basket filled with breakfast for the next morning! You can bake them something delicious or give them all the ingredients they'll need for one of your favorite recipes.

For the basket above, I bought fresh eggs and milk from the farmers' market (the glass bottle makes it extra special) and put the dry ingredients for pancakes in a mason jar with my recipe attached. I found a great container for orange juice at Fishs Eddy, and bought a bottle of Veuve Cliquot so they could make mimosas! You're still offering a bottle of alcohol, but you're saying "save this...enjoy it tomorrow". A thank you from the heart (and a bottle of champagne) will surely show your hosts how grateful you are for their hospitality!

Baked Eggs

2010-02-19T20:44:00.006-05:00

Baked eggs...this is a brilliant meal. I can't even begin to express my devotion to eggs and bread. This dish is honestly one of the simplest things in the universe to make and it gives you an excuse to go out and buy some gratin dishes (come to me - I can help you justify any china-related purchase). As a matter of fact...I love this one and this one.

Preheat your broiler whilst you chop some parsley and garlic (1 T of each). 1 t of rosemary and thyme are optional touches, but the 1 T of parmesan is non-negotiable. Toss together in a small bowl and set aside.

Set your new gratin dishes on a baking sheet. 1 T of butter and a tiny splash of cream in each dish. Put under the broiler for about 3 minutes, or until the butter is melted and bubbly.

3 eggs cracked into each gratin (it's helpful to pre-crack your eggs into a bowl so you can just slip them into the hot dishes when they come out of the oven). Sprinkle with your herb mixture and season to taste with sea salt and pepper. Back under the broiler for 5-6 minutes, which really depends on your oven...I've tried 5 and the egg whites weren't quite set...tried 7 and the yolks were cooked. Let's just say 6 minutes (and you'll continue to eat baked eggs until you figure it out - worse things have happened).

It's simple enough for a quick meal and elegant enough for guests. Perfect for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Plenty of fresh bread to dip into those runny yolks...beyond words.

Recipe courtesy of Ina Garten.

To be a good host

2010-02-17T17:03:00.007-05:00

One of the greatest joys of my career has been teaching teachers. It's truly an honor to help channel and foster the curiosity of those looking to share their passion for yoga with others. I'm often asked how I manage my busy schedule ("it's a constant work-in-progress", I say) or how they, as new teachers, can be effective vehicles of this profound practice. Teaching offers a teacher the platform to inspire change but also carries with it tremendous responsibility and an innate willingness to do our own personal work - our own yoga, first.

You open yourself up the way you would open up your home to a guest. There is thoughtful preparation necessary in order to make your guests feel as comfortable and cared for as possible...fresh sheets, flowers by the bed and treats for their stay that they might not otherwise enjoy at home. As teachers we are eternal students, dripping with curiosity and a humble beginners' mind. We must investigate the needs of the student - their bodies, injuries, struggles and aspirations, the way we ask our guests what kind of milk they prefer in their coffee or determining their likes and dislikes in order to better prepare the menu for their stay. I adore having house guests and revel in the process of preparing my home for their arrival but it used to be a much bigger undertaking as my apartment was usually in various states of disarray - a poignant reflection of how difficult I found it to manage my life (again, "it's a constant work-in-progress"). I dreamed of the day when people could just stop by and my home would be clean and orderly and ready to entertain. It has been a slow but satisfying experience to try, instead, to do my work on a continual basis...to clean and enjoy my home for me, rather than for the sole benefit of my guests. In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali discusses the idea of practice and its ability (when paired with non-attachment) to help still the mind - Patanjali insists that practice requires our attention over a long period of time, without break and in all earnestness. Vacuuming the night before my friends arrive (and only the night before my friends arrive) does not a practice make! Doing my own work, first, is what sustains me as a teacher, and it is only from this place that I can be an authentic and honest tour guide for others as they venture into the brilliant and terrifying depths of who they really are.

Some hosts prepare complicated meals, served on their best china as a way to show off, using the presence of their guests as a platform to satisfy themselves. Choosing simple ingredients and making a loving meal on my beloved china is in service of my guests. I want them to have the best of me and the best of what I have to offer. Teaching yoga has to come from a place of utter devotion to the process of teaching yoga and in total dedication to the students who've walked into your class. Motivation from fame and desires to "get ahead" will prevent you from finding your authentic voice as a teacher.

Maybe one of the hardest things about being a teacher is the inevitable truth that you have to let your students go - their practice belongs to them, not you. Your guests will come, enjoy everything you have to offer...you will prepare, invest, and share the deepest parts of yourself knowing that you will wave goodbye to them at the door when they leave. We can only hope that they feel a little better, a little closer to themselves and inspired to recreate the experience on their own.

Be Mine

2010-02-12T17:45:00.005-05:00

My perfect Valentine's Day? Billy, chocolate and roses...I'm unbelievably predictable! We visited our friend Jacques today for some chocolate inspiration. The Tribeca store is so festive, his factory bustling with Willy Wonka-like efficiency. Life is simply incomplete without champagne truffles or your personal pick of dark chocolate morsels. A snowy weekend stroll to one of his New York stores is a romantic treat (or shop for Jacques Torres chocolate from home).

Next stop - the flower market on 28th Street to browse the beautiful roses at Fischer & Page. It's a flower lovers heaven with classics like hydrangea, ranunculus, and peonies as well as creative branches like rosemary and eucalyptus berries. I could stand in there for hours dreaming up gorgeous arrangements for my home. Today we bought a huge bouquet of pink roses which are now sitting on our farm table. Love, love, love them! Romance is in the air!

Valentine's Day cards

2010-02-11T15:16:00.009-05:00

Nothing says "I love you" more than a homemade card. I made a trip to Paper Presentation and found these great heart-shaped cards and just loved the colors. Then I walked across the street to Adorama and bought glassine envelopes used for photographs...there's something special about an envelope inside an envelope and I love that you can see through and get a peak at what's inside. A calligraphy marker creates a whimsical feel (you don't have to have the world's best handwriting to pull it off) and a love-inspired stamp ties it all together.

The Novice Chef

2010-02-01T23:07:00.006-05:00

You don't need a pantry full of ingredients to be a true chef. Stock your kitchen with these six staples and you'll be able to whip up simple, delicious meals in the midst of your busy life.

Parmesan Cheese

Parmesan adds richness to anything. I love it shaved over salads or simply on its own as the perfect nibble before dinner.

Add parmesan to a basic white sauce for a "slaved over the stove for hours and put a lot of thought into this meal" taste. Perfect over pasta or poultry, the equation is simple...1 T flour, 1 T butter, 1 cup milk. Combine flour and butter in a saucepan until heated through, then add milk. Bring to a boil and stir until sauce thickens....add parmesan and stir until well combined.

Lemons

Lemon zest livens up everything from chicken and fish to baking! The juice is the final touch that adds depth of flavor before serving your meal. You'll have instant garnish for your plates and water glasses. I use half a lemon covered in kosher salt to scrub my cutting boards.

Garlic

Besides its obvious use with olive oil in a saute pan, you can add crushed garlic to stews, soups and roasted vegetables. Cut an entire head of garlic in half and place inside a chicken before roasting (don't even bother peeling). Rub garlic over slices of baguette, drizzle with olive oil and cook under the broiler for simple garlic bread.

Parsley

Chopped flat leaf parsley is the perfect garnish for any meal. I love the color, taste and thoughtfulness it adds to your efforts!

European Butter

I don't use salted butter anymore, mainly because it's a hassle to constantly buy salted and unsalted butter at the grocery store. With sweet european butter, I have what I need for sweet and savory recipes. It's a little more expensive, but worth every penny. Just to taste it melted over a piece of toast is enough to satisfy my appetite (and my soul) for the entire day! I use butter in all of my food metaphors when teaching yoga ("spread across your collar bones like a pat of melted european butter smeared over a roll"). Room temperature butter can be mixed with fresh herbs (parsley, dill, thyme) for a fresh take on buttering your bread.

Fleur de Sel

Of all the ingredients above, this is my absolute favorite! There is nothing better. Sprinkle over anything from roasted vegetables to shortbread cookies. Reserve this special salt for the final touches before serving your meal.

Free Time

2010-01-30T15:02:00.007-05:00

I ran into a wise friend and fellow teacher on the streets of New York a few weeks ago (I just love that about New York), and as serendipitous meetings go, she walked into my day at exactly the right moment. Knee-deep in my own melodrama, I needed help digging myself out of the proverbial black hole of negativity. When it comes to drama (the kind you wake up with in the morning...for the past ten years) it's no fun to simply "let go". It's far more satisfying to just let the whole thing snowball until the drama becomes self-sufficient...like a grown child who no longer requires supervision and can feed and clothe himself, or a self-watering plant. There's a switch somewhere we can flip, but we'd rather write and star in our very own reality show than shift gears. Attachment, it seems, is reserved for more than just pleasurable experiences (or the pain of our drama is more pleasurable that we'd care to admit).

So there I was, cameramen and crew in stow, going on and on about the same things I've been going on and on about for years, when my friend suggested a technique she finds helpful for just these sorts of things. "When I observe the downward spiral of my negative thoughts, I ask myself, 'If I wasn't obsessing over said drama, what would I do with all that free time?' ". Geez. That's like asking "What do you want to be when you grow up?" The possibilities are endless! What would I do with all that free time?

And suddenly, my mind was frolicking amongst the potential projects I could take on, the dinner parties I could host, the books I could write...I'd even have some extra time to relax. Why didn't I think of this sooner? The amount of time I'd wasted brooding over the past and worrying about the future was alarming...so much effort and absolutely nothing to show for it except my increased blood pressure. Pondering new ventures gave me an immediate feeling of anticipation which, juxtaposed to my previous state of mind, seemed brilliant and long-awaited.

The genius technique outlined by my equally genius friend is one of the cornerstones of yogic philosophy. It's called Pratipaksha Bhavanam, which can be defined as simply replacing a negative with a positive, whether it be thought or action. Rather than a contrived attempt at feeling cheerful about your ever-present melodrama, it's about distracting the mind with something more productive. Elated with the prospect of dinner parties and homemade gift baskets, I lost the desire to drown in my negativity - I had more interesting things to do. So my friends, send the film crew home and start to think about what you'd think about if you weren't wrapped up in your drama. Think of what you could accomplish with all that free time!

Roasted Tomatoes

2010-01-24T21:41:00.007-05:00

Roasted tomatoes add instant flavor to any dish and couldn't be easier to make. I use them in everything from bruschetta to lentil salad (and am so proud of myself for pulling off a gourmet taste with minimal effort)! Make them in advance and reap the benefits all week long. You can use any kind of tomatoes you like (I prefer vine-ripened) - cut in half and place seed-side up in an oven proof baking dish. Drizzle generously with olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt. Roast for 3 hours at 275 degrees.

Bruschetta

These are so delicious! Slice a baguette diagonally and arrange pieces on a baking sheet. Rub with garlic, brush with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place the roasted tomatoes on top and bake under the broiler for 5 minutes (watch carefully).

Lentil Salad

God bless Trader Joe's. They sell pre-cooked lentils (in a box) that have amazing flavor. For a cold lentil salad, I add scallions, celery and roasted tomatoes. Drizzle with olive oil (sometimes I add balsamic, sometimes I like lemon juice - but plain old olive oil tastes great). Add sea salt and pepper.

Everyday Bhakti

2010-01-21T07:03:00.000-05:00

"There is a frequent misunderstanding of the journey inward or the spiritual path, which suggests to most people a rejection of the natural world, the mundane, the practical, the pleasurable. On the contrary, to a yogi the path toward spirit lies entirely in the domain of nature. Spirituality is not some external goal that one must seek but a part of the divine core of each of us, which we must reveal" (BKS Iyengar, Light On Life).

A life of devotion (bhakti) seeks a sense of heart and home in all things. Yoga transcends the mat and becomes a daily practice of self-study (svadhyaya), revealing the divine in even the simplest acts or the most challenging moments. Of the many paths of yoga, I feel my life is one of bhakti, and so I practice my yoga in the kitchen, in my relationships and on the streets of New York.

This blog is an outlet for me to scratch my domestic itch, and an excuse to share my true loves with you - cooking, entertaining and (of course) yoga! I hope you'll find inspiration, humor and ideas for your life on and off the mat. Namaste!