Will Practice for Cookies

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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.)