Love in the Aftermath

Jersey City waterfront preparing for Hurricane Sandy. 

In the wake of hurricane sandy, I find myself feeling simultaneously grateful and guilty for how lucky I was to have survived unscathed. Besides some flooding in our basement and 48 hours without electricity, the only victims in my life were the containers of stock and soup and other frozen memories from cooking school that I had to heave because of the power outage. During our brief stint in the dark I was able to shower at my sisters' place in Brooklyn, where my brother-in-law made us a hot spaghetti dinner. Our power came back on just in time for my birthday and I celebrated (both momentous events) by baking a brownie pudding and an apple tart.

Just three blocks away, the sidewalks are littered with the contents of peoples' homes—furniture, clothes, and personal effects—and the owners are wrapped up in coats and scarfs to try and stay warm in their beds at night. Hoboken suffered considerable water damage. The Jersey Shore was completely destroyed; Seaside Heights, Atlantic City, and on and on are on their knees. Staten Island is a war zone. Thousands of people are now homeless and my heart hurts so much I don't know what to do. As I write this post from the comforts of my home, with the Food Network buzzing in the background and a warm meal in my belly, I feel completely removed from the magnitude of this collective pain.

My street.

My yoga practice reminds me that distance is an illusion; we are all connected because we share in this experience of being human and in the painful truth that pain is part of life. Hiding from pain (dvesha) is an obstacle (klesha) because it prevents us from experiencing the totality of our existence. Like the current gas shortage, perhaps there is a fear that if we get too close to the suffering of others we risk losing our precious (and perceived) commodity of happiness. To roll up one's sleeves and voluntarily wade through the flood waters of someone else's life takes courage, plain and simple. Inaction feels like the safer option, but it only perpetuates separateness.

Aftermath at Liberty Landing Marina. They've made an amazing recovery in the past few days.

The yoga of action/service (karma yoga) asks us to open our hearts to those who are experiencing the kind of loss that many of us may never know but, through acts of love, can hope to understand. The easiest way to help is to reach out to your friends, family, and community. For those of us in the hard hit areas, we need only to step outside and ask neighbors "What can I do?" Paulus Hook has been an inspiring place to call home: restaurants are offering free food, coffee, and internet; friends are cooking meals and hosting impromptu block parties; folks are stopping one another in the street to offer a hot shower or a warm bed. (Check out ways you can help Jersey City or Hoboken.) On the other side of the Hudson, fellow NYC YogaWorks' teachers Jeanmarie Paolillo and Paula Liberis are leading a huge donation effort at the Upper Westside studio to deliver necessities to devastated areas. Their actions are so inspiring to me and I'm very proud to be their friend. "Whatever a great man does ordinary people will do; whatever standard he sets everyone will follow" (Bhagavad Gita). One of my girlfriends asked me to donate clothes/home goods/anything to someone she knows in NYC who lost all of her belongings when her apartment flooded. And that's just a tiny snapshot of my own personal network.

Those of you who are farther away, get in touch with those you know who live in Sandy's path to find out how you can make a difference. Financial donations do help. For everyone, near and far, here are just a few options and resources I've found to help you get started.

Occupy Sandy Relief - This is a fantastic online resource of relief/volunteer information in our area. You can sign up for texts or emails to stay informed. There's also a volunteer update page that tells you what's happening on the ground and how you can help.

Recovers.org - An online community that allows neighborhoods to efficiently come together to help those in need. There are pages for Red Hook, Astoria, the Lower East Side, and Staten Island.

Red Cross - You can text REDCROSS to 90999 and instantly donate $10 to Disaster Relief. Or you can donate online. For other ways to make a financial donation, click here.

NYC Service - An amazing resource for up-to-date opportunities to help.

The Salvation Army - To make a monetary donation. There are also separate websites specific for NY and NJ.

The Humane Society - It's totally inconceivable to me that many people were rescued from their homes but were not allowed to take their pets. You can make a donation to help the Humane Society's efforts in recovering animals after the storm.

Benefit Yoga Classes - Many of the NYC/NJ studios are offering benefit classes to support relief efforts. Check your local studio.

"God is attained by all those who see God in every action." - Bhagavad Gita

Ellie, doing her part to help clean up.

I find this metta (loving kindness) meditation to be helpful during painful times when I feel powerless. Repeating this mantra, with my whole heart at the wheel, helps me connect to myself and others in a positive way.

May I be filled with loving kindness.

May I be well.

May I be peaceful and at ease.

May I be content.

May (________) be filled with loving kindness.

May (________) be well.

May (________) be peaceful and at ease.

May (________) be content.

For those of you feeling the effects of anxiety, hopelessness, and fear, here are some yoga practices that can help.

Prone Savasana - Lie down on your abdomen, place a rolled blanket or bolster under your ankles. Turn your head to one side (switching half-way though) and cover yourself with a blanket.

Restorative Yoga - Supporting your body with props allows your nervous system to relax. Sand bags/eye pillows are extremely helpful in easing anxiety.

Exhale-based Breathing - Lengthening your exhalations has a calming effect on your entire system.

Forward Bends - These postures are cooling and calming. Seated forward bends can be held with the help of bolsters and chairs (or, in my case, with the help of a golden retriever).

Restorative Upavistha Konasana.

This experience is giving us the opportunity to practice yoga when it matters most. Taking action to help others is a powerful form of yoga and one we can practice in both little and big ways, everyday. As we come together—neighbors and strangers—to seek solace and support in our respective communities, I hope we can all remember the power of union. May we all be flooded with gratitude, compassion, and love in the worst and best of times.

Salade Niçoise

I took two hugely memorable summer trips to Europe as a teenager, accompanied by my whole family. We wandered through Italy, Switzerland, and my beloved France, exploring the tastes and sights as we traveled across the countryside in our rented Volkswagen bus. There were no reservations and no agenda other than the list of flea markets, organized by date and town, which my mother boldly used as our road map.

Les marchés aux puces are what I remember most about our trips. Each market gave us a snapshot of what life was like in that particular corner of the world. We would make a day of it, arriving early to snatch the best goods, resting for lunch in a nearby café, and then wandering a bit more until exhaustion forced us back to the car in search of a place to rest our bones. I always loved the moment when I stood at the threshold of the hunt, not knowing what treasure I might find buried in an unassuming box or strewn haphazardly on a table amongst a sea of junk. In life, that sense of not-knowing doesn't typically fill me with the same excitement and so browsing the flea markets is, in a way, my practice—a reminder to gaze into the unknown with awe and wonder. We frequented dozens of markets in our travels, and my eyes were soon able to scan the aisles like a pro, quickly seeking out the glimmer of silver or the softness of linen. I credit my love (and any skills I may possess) for design to those hours spent curating my own personal collection of flea market finds.

Fervent shopping was hard work and so we would all break for lunch, collapsing into an outdoor café, our mouths parched and our stomachs grumbling. My mother—a perpetual creature of habit—devoted herself to the tireless work of taste-testing the same lunch, day in and day out. Unbeknownst to the country of France, she became the unofficial connoisseur of her favorite dish: la salade niçoise.

To this day I have a special place in my heart for a niçoise salad. It's true that it is especially delicious in the summer, when the more delicate varieties of lettuce are in season. But it's also true that when you love something that much, it doesn't really matter when you eat it. What I learned from watching my mother enjoy the many incarnations of this meal is that there really isn't a 'right' way to make it. Perhaps that's one of the reasons I have adopted her love for cette salade. I like to be able to create a dish in much the same way that my mother planned our trips through Europe—with her passion and her instincts as her guide.

Salade Niçoise

Lettuce of your choice. Butter lettuce (Boston Bibb) or Oak Leaf lettuce are my favorites.

Can of tuna packed in oil.

Green beans, boiled for 5-8 minutes in heavily salted boiling water, then shocked in an ice bath. 

As many hard boiled eggs as your heart can handle.

Tomatoes, rough chop.

Olives (which I don't always use but sometimes they just feel right).
Potatoes, boiled until tender.

Dressing

Whisk together dijon mustard (an oversized teaspoon), chopped shallots (let's say a tablespoon), red wine vinegar, salt and pepper. Slowly pour in your oil as you whisk. Remember: 3 parts oil to 1 part vinegar.

This brown transferware pitcher is one of my favorite flea market finds.

Like in a true salade composée, neatly arrange all of the components on top of your lettuce instead of tossing everything together. This is a great salad to serve guests because you can place the prepared ingredients into separate bowls and allow your friends to follow their fancy.

After a lazy lunch spent recuperating from our morning's adventure, we would gather our things and head back to the van. We must've been a sight—awkwardly managing our shopping bags and, like true tourists, maneuvering through crowded cafés and busy sidewalks leaving a path of destruction in our wake. Luckily my parents always packed garment bags (for oil paintings), duck tape (to secure boxes and the garment bags) and extra luggage (for all of our brocantes). In those days you could still lug bottles of olive oil on board a plane along with your other six pieces of carry-on. Ahh, those were the days.

I hope you enjoy this salad—a veritable meal in and of itself—as much as I do. Every bite transports me to those summers in our rented Volkswagen van, driving off to the next spot on my mother's map. I believe it's good for the soul to make something in your kitchen that reminds you of the sacred moments in your life. There is a little piece of my soul in this salad. Bon appétit!

Smith and Chang General Goods

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

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.

Homemade Cards

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.

Bucks County Weekend

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!

Easter Basket

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.

Merry Christmas

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.