This summer felt like a dream. Suddenly we could visit with family that we haven’t been with in years. It is as if the world went from black and white to Technicolor (yes, I am dating myself with that reference). Everything seemed brighter, tasted better, and looked more beautiful than what I recall it was pre-pandemic.

Personally I was in recharge mode. While the pandemic may not be over, let’s agree that we can declare that it has been a L-O-N-G pandemic. And to be completely transparent, all of the things that I used to love doing that were still available to do during the pandemic, such as blogging, lost their luster. The good news is that I continued with my recipe development and even managed to jot a few of my favorites down so, over the next few weeks I’ll start to share these with you!

The first recipe I fell in love with was a fun spin on Italian deli meats — think deli meats collide with a salad. The flavors are fresh, sweet, and salty with a blending of textures. It’s perfection, no gluten, lots of protein, and no utensils needed. Perfect for a picnic or an appetizer and it comes together all in under 10 minutes. It can be done 24 hours ahead of time, sealed in the plastic wrapping, and then sliced for freshness the day of.

Italian Sushi

Ingredients

12 slices prosciutto, thinly cut

1 cup argula

2 balls of dry mozzarella, sliced thin lengthwise

1 jar marinated bell peppers or sun dried tomatoes

3 large leaves basil, washed and dried

salt & pepper

dash of olive oil

dash of balsamic vinegar

pesto (optional)

Directions

On a piece of plastic wrap, overlap prosciutto slightly in vertical direction, then add a few piece horizontally. Layer arugula, mozzarella, bell peppers (2-3 slices) or sun dried tomatoes (make one row). Add salt, pepper, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. To assemble, roll lengthwise into a log, making sure to keep it tight enough while ensuring that no plastic is caught in the middle of the food. Plastic should only remain on the outside of the log for easier cutting. To serve, cut the ‘sushi’ log into approximately 8 slices, remove the plastic and place each piece with one cut side up on a platter.

Serve with pesto dipping sauce.

This latest inspiration manifested itself from the world in my immediate grasp. It has been said that art imitates life, or is it life imitates art? Both are true in this episode of the obscure, yet highly relevant food journal. I’ll share my perspective.

Art imitates life: I’ve recently been indoctrinated into a group that is predominately comprised of Italian nationals. It’s fascinating and all-consuming as I learn to communicate in the unspoken language of cultural interactions, influence, and persuasion. All things I’ve traditionally had a solid grasp on in the typical business world, yet this micro-world is riddled with nuances. I suppose I always thought that the French culture was amongst the most nuanced, yet I am reevaluating that perception.

It is also one of the few times that I’ve been a part of a predominantly female group; ergo communications is not in short supply, so new filters have to be developed to help me keep up. The opportunity to be able to participate in meetings, all in Italian, with a powerful group of ‘do-ers’ is by design.  I wanted to up-level my Italian language and there is truly no better master class to be found. There are days that my mind feels as if it is exploding, as messages come across on different platforms in groupings of 20-86 messages at a time. I am pushed to keep up. I love the challenge. I do not have an issue understanding what is being discussed. I am not yet comfortable enough to commit my suggested business recommendations in Italian. Time will help me get past the introverted aspect of my personality that remains relatively well hidden.

Life is based on the art of necessity: I’ll continue with how this recipe was inspired. You now understand that with my induction into this Italian group, I can’t help but channel delectable dishes. And as I happily worked on networking with my new Italian colleagues, one of my tribe suddenly came down with Covid. Quarantine and isolation struck our household, eliminating trips to the supermarket, and quickly freezer and pantry diving took its place as the leading hobby/quarantine culinary sport.

Art imitates life and is based on necessity: The last piece of my inspiration is from my good friend Suzie who had shared an easy chicken piccata recipe that she had improvised one night with great success. Her story stuck in my mind as I reviewed my pantry and freezer staples. And voila! Or Eccola! A new dish was created.

This weeknight quick cacciatore comes together in under 30 minutes and received rave reviews. The preserved artichokes and olives contribute to the texture and salty flavor that is counterbalanced by the tart fresh lemon. The sliced chicken cooks quickly and takes on the flavors of butter, oil, and garlic while the wine slightly poaches the poultry, keeping it moist.

Weeknight Cacciatore

Ingredients

3 TBS butter, used separately

1 tsp olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed

2 boneless, skinless breasts chicken

salt, to taste

pepper, to taste

1 package (10.58 oz net wt. or 6.35 oz drained) marinated artichoke hearts

2 lemons, washed and sliced into wedges

1 cup white wine

1 can black pitted olives

rice or cooked pasta (optional)

Directions

In a large non-stick skillet, over low heat, melt 1 TBS butter and 1 tsp olive oil.

Peel and smash garlic cloves. Rinse chicken breasts, pat dry and slice ¼ inch thick.  Salt and pepper on both sides of the freshly sliced poultry.  Turn heat up to medium-high and place garlic and chicken in a pan with melted butter and gently brown on each side. Chicken does not need to be completely cooked. Once poultry is slightly browned, remove from pan and set aside.

Add marinated artichokes and the oil from its package to the pan with the garlic. Then add in lemon wedges, the exposed part facing down, and wine. Stir and allow to cook in juices for 5 minutes. Add in olives and warm for 5 minutes. Next, make room in the pan and add the sliced chicken back to the pan to finish cooking and ensure all ingredients are hot. Combine additional butter and stir until melted. Serve and enjoy!

Note: I used Trader Joe’s Ibericos Tapas Style Grilled Marinated Artichoke Quarters.

However, now that I reflect on this pandemic passage of time (Delta pre-vaccination, Delta post-vaccination and Omicron), I feel one thing that I have been missing was experiencing written creative fulfillment. I have been asking myself the question — why did I feel that way? The answer is straightforward — in 2021, I curtailed my blogging, one of the creative outlets that allows me to thread the needle of life with time — recording my reflections here.

I have gravitated towards telling certain aspects of my story on Instagram. There is more to my story than is ever depicted; yet that is where I share my slant on life through a lens. Until the lockdown I managed to thrive by actively blogging and getting everything inside my head out into words, and posting them here. When the pandemic hit, my perspectives changed. I submerged myself in my work, and for a long time I enjoyed it to the hilt. In my work I was finally able to stretch my portfolio wings and fly again. There’s a lot to unpack there, however, I didn’t want to share what I was processing. Someday I may share it more widely, but for now the story is only for a few key trusted players. Over these past seven months I have lived loudly, laughed, cried, gained and lost more than I thought possible. I have zero regrets. I prioritized people and relationships that I valued and found a way to make those connections happen. I engaged. I lived. And I did it in the moment. It was amazing. And while I gallivanted around I also took deep dives into a few passion projects – my Skillbatical and materializing The Bar-N. Those two projects will be discussed in more detail soon; we have time. We have plenty of time.

While I didn’t share all of my cooking and baking creations I did have some delectable moments. Today I am sharing one of them with you. It’s my favorite winter recipe and it always gets rave reviews. Here’s to kicking off 2022 with a bang…and my Wine Braised Oxtail Ragù and Polenta.

As with any recipe requiring slow cooking, it’s the time you spend building the flavor at the beginning that dictates how tasty the dish will be at the end. Oxtail is incredibly tough and needs a long time to cook, 4 – 5 hours, but the reward is unctuous, sticky meat that falls off the bone and melts in your mouth. It adds a velvetiness to the sauce that I can’t replicate with any other cut of meat. When browning the oxtail, ensure it gets really dark and caramelizes. Allow the carrots, onions and celery time to cook and meld together. Choose a nice drinking wine as the complex flavors will contribute to the overall taste of this rich succulent dish. You’ll be tempted to just eat this as it is, straight from the pot, greedily scooping up tender meat and sauce with thick chunks of crusty bread. However, oxtail ragù tossed over cheesy polenta makes this a proper unforgettable meal.

SERVES 6-8

Wine Braised Oxtail Ragù with Polenta

Ragù Ingredients

5 pounds oxtails, cut crosswise into pieces

¼ cup all-purpose flour

2 tsps ground black pepper

1 TBS kosher salt, plus more

2 TBS olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 large carrots, peeled, chopped

2 celery stalks, chopped

2 heads of garlic, cloves separated, smashed

4 sprigs rosemary

750-ml bottle red wine

1- 15 oz can crushed tomatoes (San Marzano)

1/4 cup red wine vinegar or Sherry vinegar

1 TBS honey

1 lemon zested (optional, served when plating)

Polenta Ingredients

3 cups whole milk

2 TBS unsalted butter

Kosher salt

1 cup fine-grind polenta (Golden Pheasant Polenta)

1 cup finely grated Parmesan, plus more for serving

Directions

Notes:

1) The flavors of this recipe are at their best when the dish is prepared at least 12 hours ahead of time. Allowing the ragù to rest overnight is optimum.

2) Ragù can be made 2 days ahead. Cover and chill, or freeze up to 4 weeks.

In a small shallow bowl add flower, salt and pepper. Toss in oxtails and evenly coat with flower mixture. Over medium high heat add oil to a large heavy pot or Dutch oven. Working in batches, cook oxtails in a single layer, turning occasionally, until browned all over. Typically 7-10 minutes on each side yields a nice brown color. Transfer oxtails to a plate once done.

In the same pot add in onion, carrots, celery, and garlic, stirring often, until vegetables are browned around edges. Cook approximately 10–15 minutes. Add wine, tomatoes, vinegar, and honey and if using fresh rosemary add the herbs wrapped in cheese cloth tied with string so that the ‘leaves’ are not scattered throughout the sauce, stirring and scraping up browned bits. Bring sauce to a boil and season with salt, then return oxtails to the pot. Pour in enough water just to cover oxtails and bring to a gentle simmer. Partially cover and cook, reducing heat as needed to keep at a low simmer, until meat is falling off the bone for approximately 3 – 3 1/2 hours. Allow cooling at least 12 hours and if possible, overnighting; do not remove ragù from pot, store in refrigerator.

Before serving, remove ragù from the refrigerator and skim fat from surface. Discard the fat. Then remove oxtails. Pick meat from bones and shred into small pieces and set aside. Warm ragù over low until heated through. Increase heat to medium and bring braising liquid to a simmer. Cook until reduced to the consistency of gravy, 10-15 minutes. Return meat to ragù; diners choice on either adding the bones back into the pot if your crowd likes to eat off of the bones or discarding the bones. Transfer 2 cups ragù to an airtight container and save for later. Cover pot; keep remaining ragù warm over low heat.

To make polenta bring milk, butter, and several pinches of salt to a simmer in a large saucepan over medium. Gradually whisk in polenta and cook, whisking, until very thick and bubbling. Cook approximately 3 minutes. Remove from heat; add Parmesan cheese and stir until smooth. Add to individual bowls and spoon heaps of meaty sauce over each bowl. Top with a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese and lemon.

Julie and I shared our passion for food, all food, but in particular desserts. I first met her during my PR agency days with her husband, Rich Cline, who had taken me under his wing as a new arrival onto the agency scene. He and his counterpart, Slibby (Stacy Libby) were amongst the first few people I had met once I started at Miller Shandwick Technologies upon leaving Sybase. I had often heard stories about Julie from both Cline and Slibby. Both of them insisted that we’d have a lot in common from our cooking to our Italian heritage and passion for speaking the language. They were right.

I left Miller Shandwick for my America’s Cup days for some years. I stayed connected with Julie and the gang over the years via a dinner party or two.

Later, when a small group from Miller Shandwick opened up Voce Communications, I rejoined the clan again. During this decade, Julie and I would regularly meet at Voce’s unconventional yet truly epic company events.

Julie was a brilliant lawyer, fluent in Italian, and passionate about food. I confided in her one night during a dinner party that I was thinking about writing a cookbook. She LOVED the idea and wanted to both share her new favorite recipe and launch my career as an author by hosting my first book signing. And she did exactly that.

Julie shared her recipe for what we now call Peanut Butter Cookie Bombs, and she hosted the most incredible first ‘book signing’ party one could imagine.

Via the party, Slibby, who was thick into the Silicon Valley Mom’s Blogging Community, helped to bring me into the world of food bloggers, and she hand picked the guest list which was a mixture of friends, family, and blogging influencers. To this day, thanks to both Julie and Slibby, I still covet the relationships sparked on that night.

Years passed and as families with children living 30+ minutes away do, we drifted into our mutually busy lives. When I was ill, we briefly reconnected; she sent me a beautiful card and a book that I still treasure to this day. When I recovered we spoke of getting together, but it was challenging to find a time.

So time passed, then Julie was ill. I reached out to her as well and we agreed we would get together, in fact, we talked about getting together again in Jan 2020, and we were getting close to seeing each other; then we went into Pandemic lockdown. So we postponed. And as I write this note, I can tell you that I never got the chance to see her in person again.

I am happy for all of the smiles and recipes we shared and sad to know that we will not be creating more, however I do know that she will always be close by in my recipe thoughts. [Sidebar: I used to tease Cline that they must love me to have named one of their three beautiful daughters after me! I am sure that is not the case, but how could I resist making the claim amongst all of our mutual friends!]

My tribute to Julie is this recipe I worked on while reflecting on our memories together. Please forgive the insider references: dueling Christmas trees, Hornblower yachts, children in the yard, Payard hot cocoa mix, food adventures, and Italian. The funny thing is that I don’t know if she was a fan of coconut, but I do know how much she loved chocolate, and I believe she would have swooned over this gooey treat. This recipe is for you, Julie! May you and yours always know the special place you have in my heart. Always.

Julie’s Fudgy Chocolate Coconut Cake

Cake Ingredients

7 TBS unsalted butter

4 eggs, room temperature

2 cups sugar

2 1/2 tsps baking powder

1 1/4 cups flour

3/4 cup cocoa

2 tsp vanilla

pinch of salt

Topping Ingredients

3.5 TBS unsalted butter

1 cup sugar

1/2 cup maple syrup

2/3 cup whipping cream

1 cup dry shredded coconut

Directions

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Line a 9x 13 baking tray with parchment paper.

In a small saucepan, melt the butter and remove from heat to cool. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and sugar. Then add the cooled butter. It is important that the butter not be too hot or it will cook the egg and sugar batter.

Add in the baking powder, vanilla, salt, and stir to combine. Then add in the cocoa, mix to combine, and finally the flour. Mixing well by hand. Place in oven and cook for 10 minutes.

Start the topping while the cake is in the oven. In a saucepan, melt the butter and then add in the sugar, syrup, and cream. Allow mixture to simmer for a few minutes. Stir in the shredded coconut and bring to a boil, stirring constantly.

Remove the mixture from the heat. When the timer is up, carefully remove the cake from the oven and pour the topping over it. Return to the oven and bake it for another 10 minutes or until the topping is a light golden brown.

Allow the cake to cool before cutting into small pieces. This recipe is rich so smaller pieces are advised. It also stores nicely in the refrigerator, precut for easy access to pop it into your mouth or serve with your afternoon coffee or tea. I imagine that Julie would have had it with a coffee made by her Lavazza.

I am keeping it simple as this pandemic journey continues…and we are nearing the one-year mark of this lockdown. If my calculations are accurate, we could have now traveled from earth to Mars on a rocket ship in about the same number of days. Last year at this time I was on my global farewell tour in Asia Pac, and I recall how odd it felt to be temperature checked every time I entered a new public building or to be served a cocktail by someone wearing a mask while I myself didn’t have one. That was when life seemed simple and comparatively carefree. That view is now unrecognizable to me. Yet here I sit, as if nothing has changed, typing on my laptop.

I am certain that there will be good things that manifest out of this period of time. And conversely, there will be new behaviors we developed that will never feel the same. For example, this weekend I celebrated my daughter’s 20th birthday. By all accounts, a very happy time was passed spending time with her, in proximity, from a distance. The cake was made for our party of four, sparklers were used instead of candles so that no one would blow on the cake, and it passed by all to quickly as if it was a hushed whisper escaping from her smiling lips. It was her favorite chocolate cake, ensconced in a shield of fresh made buttercream frosting dyed bright pink and adorned lovingly with candied violets from France and shimmering purple and silver balls. We had eaten a lovely lunch and then gifts were given. The birthday girl was aglow.

It was as close to perfect as we could manage, and yet the problem was that I couldn’t hold her, hug her or touch her as she prepared to leave. My eyes filled with tears, that I attempted to hide. I felt gutted and tried to remind myself to focus on all of the happiness we shared during the fleeting hours, but somehow, I could only hold it together long enough to get her out of the driveway before I crumpled.

The pandemic continues to take its toll and leave its mark on all of us. Social isolation. I refuse to sugarcoat it. I watch in horror as our families struggle to stay connected, as we become more accustomed to going nowhere and seeing virtually no one. And yet, I do believe we are getting closer to finding a path back to our former lives…if we can just hold on a little longer. A. Little. Longer.

I long for the day when I don’t see the sadness in my relatives’ eyes when I too can hug my mom. Yet, there is certainly more time to reflect on the simple things and I am learning to cast my gaze on that perspective. This is the time to see what was previously unseen in our lives and to create a new landscape – I’ve done so, figuratively and literally. I remain open to change, and I am eager to find a world where less ‘on camera’ screen time is acceptable. I know as a society we are on the precipice of a new world social order. And while I ponder the universe around me, I retreat into my kitchen to find an alternative realm of creativity.

This week’s recipe is simply beyond words. To be honest, it is hardly a recipe, and yet it is a lovely dessert, or snack, that brings me back to my European travels. This one is in the genres of Macedonia, marinated grapes. That’s right, today we will make marinated grapes the perfect light end to a winter meal. This is one of those nearly guiltless recipes that encourages you to linger at the dinner table. Creating a mood that is created and conducive to conversation and relaxation. The spicy undertones of the port, with the understated end-of-season grape feels even crisper when placed on ice. It’s just sweet enough to bring you back for a second, and a third, and so on, and so on.

Grapes & Port

Ingredients

1 lb black grapes, in bunches

3 cups ruby port

6 thick strips lemon peel

ice cubes

Directions

Black grapes do have seeds so If you prefer, you can cut them in half and remove the seeds.

Wash and gently dry grapes. Place the grapes in a medium-sized bowl. Pour the port over the grapes. Add the lemon peel, taking care not to use much of the white layer below the skin. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let marinate overnight, or even over a few days for maximum flavor impact. Store in the refrigerator. Before serving, cut into clusters and arrange in a shallow bowl filled with ice cubes. The port can be strained and reused. Serves 3-4.

It’s that moment that you realize that other doors are open to you. You can pinpoint exactly what you want, and you have the confidence to do what you previously thought you needed guidance on. For others it may seem that your world has been suddenly turned upside down, but in all reality, it was already upside down, and it has suddenly fallen into place – right side up.

As a former colleague of mine recently shared in his article on data – Get your technology infrastructure ready for the Age of Uncertainty, – “It’s at least arguable that the pandemic will act as a catalyst for new ways of living, altered aspirations and a rejection of what for decades has been the consensus of wisdom.”

We are changed, and it very well could be for the better. I believe our world is on a new path, with its priorities shifted in ways we couldn’t have imagined a few years ago, and there are moments to seize.

I’ve recently made some big changes in my professional life. And while the change can be categorized as uncomfortable, I have seen in this past year that it is taking the leap into the uncomfortable that has catapulted me forward. I’ve never been the type of person to be complacent. I am a keen observer, learner, and assessor of my surroundings. I know my worth. I know what I want and what I don’t want to spend my time on, and in that lies the excitement of finding out what’s possible. I’m taking these next few months to prioritize my career and myself. So in reality, the only thing in my world that is upside down is this recipe.

I am fostering my creative cooking exploration. This newly created recipe for banana upside down cake is divine. The base of the cake mimics a lovely banana bread texture and the upside down topping is sweet and tropical. The juxtaposition of textures and flavors, clear and slightly muted banana cake with the flavorful caramelized bananas, come together to make one delicious cake. I am very excited to share this recipe with you.

As for my professional story, the rest remains ahead of me as I cherish the opportunity to spend time with people – family, friends, network, and do a lot more cooking and baking.

Banana Upside Down Cake

Ingredients

Cake Topping

2/3 cup packed brown sugar

4 1/2 TBS unsalted butter, cut into pieces

2-3 bananas sliced into 1/3 inch rounds

Cake Batter

1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened (if using salted butter, omit salt in recipe)

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1/3 cup plain sour cream or Greek yogurt (plain)

2 large eggs

1 cup bananas, mashed (approximately 2 overripe bananas)

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp dash

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease an 8 x 8 x 2-inch square cake pan (or 9 x 2 inch round cake pan). It is important that the pan can hold 8 cups or it will overflow.

Spread brown sugar on the bottom of the pan and scatter pieces of butter. Place the pan in the oven for 5-7 minutes (until the butter has melted). Remove from the oven and stir to combine butter and sugar and spread evenly on the bottom. Arrange sliced bananas to cover the bottom. Set Aside.

To make the batter, combine dry ingredients in a large bowl (flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt), stir to combine, and set aside.

In a large bowl cream butter and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla and mix to combine. Add sour cream (or Greek yogurt) and mashed bananas, using an electric mixer to combine. Turn the mixer on low and add dry ingredients mixture until combined. Pour the batter over bananas, smooth the top, and bake. Bake 30 minutes at 350 degrees, then reduce the heat to 325 degrees and bake for additional 25-35 minutes until the toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Allow to cool in the pan completely, or at least until the bottom is barely warm, before inverting on the plate. I recommend using a knife to loosen the cake edges from the pan, place a plate upside-down on top of the pan, and then invert the cake.

It’s about making spaces. Space to find peace of mind. Space to flourish creativity. Space to nourish the soul. Space to find the breath that leads you to your voice, your moral compass, and to recognize the path you are on and finding those surprises along the way.

This last pandemic year, ergo the last 14 months, has presented challenges beyond what we could have imagined. In many ways, it felt as if everything familiar, those previous world views, were burning to the ground around us as we remained alone together. As a marketer, I can attest that ‘social distancing’ was really good pandemic branding because the experience was more along the lines of ‘social isolation’.

Now as we look at the world, vaccinations are giving us hope to regain our former lives. I’ve started to reconnect with friends over coffee and imagine future travel and what that might be like. I imagine a world with less screen time. A world where I can hug my family and friends and smile unmasked, invite friends and family over. I miss people. We all do.

This new world has had its benefits – I have had time to closet-scape and friend-scape. I’ve built spaces to create my version of a retreat. I’ve taken on projects outside of blogging because I just couldn’t take any more screen time or entertain the thought of puzzles. I expressed my creativity in learning about garden design, exploring undocumented recipe development, and watching the rebuild of our ’67 Mustang convertible. It’s been quite a pandemic so far. I’ll stay clear of the political unrest for now, it’s not been easy to process this and the divides it has created.

Back to two points I’ve mentioned: friends and undocumented recipe development. This recipe is one I had to publish. I created it for my long-time friend who is fighting a big health battle. She and her family said they loved it – I love her beyond words. I love their family and to me food is love.

This recipe has lovely floral undertones juxtaposed against crisp lemon flavors which are enhanced by the moist texture that zucchini provides when incorporated in baking. I intended for these treats to be eaten as muffins, but they could certainly masquerade as cupcakes.

Zucchini Cardamom Muffins

Muffin Ingredients

1 1/2 cups flour

1 tsp cardamom powder

3/4 tsp baking powder<

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

2 eggs

3/4 cup and 2 TBS sugar

1/2 cup coconut oil, melted (room temperature)

1/2 cup buttermilk

1 1/2 cups grated zucchini

Glaze Ingredients

1 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar

1 TBS butter, room temp

3 TBS lemon juice

1/2 lemon zested

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line cupcake pan with 12 regular cupcake liners.

In a medium bowl combine all dry ingredients and whisk together.

In a large bowl, add eggs, sugar, oil, and buttermilk and whisk until smooth. Combine zucchini and then mix in dry ingredients; use a spatula to mix until just combined.

Divide batter into prepared pan, place the pan in the middle rack of the own and bake for 22-25 minutes.

To make the glaze combine ingredients and frost muffins.

Note: to make buttermilk, add ½ TBS to ½ cup milk. Allow to sit 5 mins.

2020 was a helluva year, good riddance. When we look back at this year, I wonder just how clear its lessons will be. The pandemic shook up a lot of our preconceived notions. It exposed us to our frailties. The year underscored the eternal truth that nature always wins.

And while it felt like the longest year to date, we are only 10 months in!

Time remains a paradox. It stands still, akin to those slow lazy days I recall in the summer growing up. Only these days are not lazy, they pack a punch. Over the past months I spent the lengthy days and endless nights fluctuating between working, riding my stationary bike, cooking, moving our furniture around the house and — mostly — writing. Like everyone else, as I started the year I planned to be here, there, and everywhere. Instead, the only direction I traveled was inwards. As someone who was in perpetual motion and going to different places and meeting other people all the time, I adapted to quickly embracing my inner hermit. I was forced to reflect and consider society from a distance. And to be honest, what I saw was not the best of humanity, but that’s another discussion string to pull at another time.

The quarantine has made me ask the two questions that I should have been asking all along: What do I value? And what is worth my time?

As a result, I have a better understanding of who I am not. I know what and who doesn’t matter.

As the pandemic ravages our social fabric, we are seeing businesses take on their digital transformations in a compressed time frame. (We managed to time travel from 2020 to 2025.) Whether we like it or not, we are addicted to it now. I do believe that the change will be lasting. Whether it is ordering groceries online, getting food delivered, contactless commerce, or simply working from home. How much of the change will be permanent? No one knows for sure, but all seem to agree on: the “new normal” shouldn’t be called ‘normal’ at all! We should just call it ‘change’.

Yet, there are those moments, when I walk outside, away from my computer, that the world looks the same. The sun is sharing its light and warmth. It seems like the world I remember. And yet it’s like waking up in a dream to realize that ‘this normal’ is just a figment of my imagination.

As I take stock in this new year, I know that the only way forward is to acknowledge this reality and assess what has changed so far …

The work perspective:

• Zoom is now part of the cultural zeitgeist. It has trained us to think in terms of work on video, which has fundamentally altered our work habits and expectations. I now go to work, on camera for 6-8 hours a day in meetings, and I’ve had to adjust my dislike of being on video.

• If you are like me, always on the go, then the stillness can prove stifling. The days seem longer. It is nearly impossible to tell a Tuesday from Friday, yet Monday remains loud and clear!

• I try not to make every work call, about work, because my mind stagnates if that is all I focus on. I know that instead of the ambitious and often ambiguous idea of productivity, I need to embrace efficiency — especially when it comes to my work. It’s becoming clear that I need to find time to focus on self-care and figure out how to take vacation.

Daily Life

• On my weekends I tend to feel so much more connected when I call someone on the phone, for there is no video to distract, just an expression and sharing of feelings through simple intonations of voice and hearing.

• When I venture out of the house on Saturday to grocery shop, I am shocked as I witness pandemic driving maneuvers. More cars are rushing along the roads, speeding faster, almost as if they could outpace the virus.

• The silence of the lockdown is slowly becoming a distant memory. The isolation has become loud and clear.

In retrospect, we come into 2021 changed in many ways. Perhaps most significantly, the distinctions between our physical and digital worlds have largely disintegrated. We now work and we live online. We may have always been heading this way, but this year, significantly and irreversibly accelerated our pace.

For me (and I hope for you) the year also offered opportunities to pause and reflect on which aspects of that offline world we are willing to fight to preserve. For example, how the environment has benefited from environmental lower impacts. I have learned that the biggest lesson of standing in place (especially during this pandemic) is the importance of listening to the heart’s rhythm, and letting that define what time and life are.

Amidst my deep thoughts and reflections, I continue to enjoy recipe development. I am not blogging as often as I would like in a perfect world because my ‘work’ computer screen time has increased 400% during this pandemic. The need to distance myself from the computer is blocking my hobby.

This is a special recipe that I created a few days after the new year. It was a feat, like assembling pieces of a giant jigsaw, in that I somehow magically had these ingredients that I would have never assembled together and yet together they worked beautifully. Fish and lemon are a great match and when fennel, capers and cream are added it becomes sublime! Serve over slices of crisp pan-fried potatoes for an added texture and flavor treat.

Pan-Fried Fish with Fennel & Capers Cream Sauce

Ingredients

6 small size potatoes sliced thin, lengthwise

1 1/2 pounds fresh petrale sole (a Pacific Flounder) fillets or firm white fish

Salt, to taste

2 TBS extra virgin olive oil

4 green onions, whole (or 3 TBS minced shallots)

1/4 cup dry white wine

1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced, fronds reserved

2 cloves garlic, crushed or 1 tsp garlic salt

¼ cup kalamata olives, pitted (or 3 TBS capers)

1 lemon, zested

3 TBS lemon juice

½ cup whipping cream

2 TBS, cut into 4 pieces, cold, unsalted butter

small handful flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions

Add oil to a pan and cook potatoes until very crispy and then remove and set aside.

Pat the fish fillets dry with paper towels. There is a lot of moisture in Petrale sole, so you might have to pat them dry twice.

Lightly salt the fillets on both sides.

To brown the fillets on both sides, heat oil and butter in a large, non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Once this mixture is bubbling, carefully add the fillets to the pan. Brown the fillets gently on both sides.

Fish is cooked when it flakes easily and is no longer translucent. Sole fillets will cook very quickly, no more than a few minutes on each side. Once done, remove the fillets from pan and place on a warm plate.

In the same pan, cook the green onions, and sauté until soft.

To make the sauce, add white wine to the pan with the onions to deglaze the pan, and scrape up the browned bits at the bottom of the pan. Add the fennel to the pan and cook until tender. Add the garlic, olives, lemon zest and juice and let it bubble up for 1 minute. Add butter and gently swirl to make a sauce. Add the cream, season and simmer until the sauce has reduced and thickened a little. Add herbs, and squeeze a little lemon juice into the sauce.

Garnish the plate with the reserved fennel fronds and crispy potatoes. Top with the fish and spoon the sauce over the top.

I haven’t been able to bring myself to write about the spaces in my mind. These ‘unprecedented times’ just feel like a free fall from >insert one of any big skyscrapers in your city of choice< to which the end just might be a mighty thud. When not working I spend my days trying to survive the emotional landmines. Some days are better than others as we live in our pressure cooker – trying to keep everyone in a peaceful state of mind, distract ourselves with cooking, baking or the latest streaming content and simultaneously tethering ourselves to help with those we love that we can no longer physically hug or be in close quarters which leaves me emotionally raw or ‘heart naked’.

And while I don’t often share these thoughts aloud, I have just about run out of rope. If you know me, you know that I am direct. And while I will go out of my way to be positive, I encourage you to read the subtext. Read.| Between.|The.| Lines.| Whether you live in a COVID ‘bubble’ or alone, there is not one scenario that is easier than the other. Everyone craves to be consoled and desperately wishes to wake-up and return to their normally scheduled lives. Well, most everyone, and I applaud those that are in the ‘other’ category for they are truly happy in this space and that is something I admire. I must be honest, despite it all, when I think back on these past months since the pandemic lock-down, there have been some really fantastic things that have happened, and new memories have been created that I truly cherish.

When I reflect back, I can see that my survival mode has been to flip the script. I don’t want every celebratory moment to be compared to what it previously was, and by making it new, or different, it somehow feels less unpleasant. For Thanksgiving, I opted out of cooking altogether. I know, shocking! My goal was to get outside and have an adventure, isolated but an adventure none-the-less. With that declaration made, my aunt/godmother, offered to host an outside socially distanced dinner the night before. Despite my efforts to avoid Thanksgiving, she made it very special for all of us.

Similarly, when the December holiday traditions started to surface, I had decided to opt out of my elaborate decorations.

>basically, pitching the baby out with the bathwater- yes, I too can sulk<

While on the phone with my friend, Shawn, he provided his sage and unsolicited advice to keep the traditions alive. He encouraged me to bake and exchange cookies on a much smaller scale and I listened. In doing so I found some true and deep smiles.

What can you deduce from all of this that I am sharing? Well, I am changing. I think we all are. I think we will feel the effects of this year for many years to come. Personally, I find that I have become an active listener. I’ve learned to read Zoom body cues. I’ve learned that some nights we need space and that it is best not to sit around the dinner table. And while I still find comfort in food and cooking, I am aware that things look a bit different. I have so much screen time logged that it pains me that even here, in my most favorite of hobbies, I struggle to write. I just want to distance myself from my devices.

So, how to we get from here to soup? Well, since my story starts with Thanksgiving, and loops back into the theory that we all need comfort, I am sharing my recipe for Turkey Chowder. For me creating this recipe was like a big hug in a bowl! It hits all of the flavor nodes and yet isn’t the usual turkey soup I’ve concocted for years. I still enjoy the usual recipe, but this year is different and so is this version of my soup. It is a hearty soup that is also light and creamy, very flavorful and loaded with turkey, wild rice and vegetables. Basically, it is the perfect solution to leftover turkey, and it makes enough to freeze half of the soup for another time.

This soup does take a bit of time and energy to get together, but I can tell you it will be well worth the effort.

Turkey Chowder

Ingredients

2 cups uncooked wild rice

1 cup butter, unsalted

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

3 large carrots sliced into 1/4 -inch coins

8 oz fresh button mushrooms, sliced

4 large garlic cloves, minced

1 cup flour

2 cans low sodium chicken broth

12-14 cups water

4 cups half and half

2 TBS soy sauce

1 tsp salt

½ tsp black pepper

2 bay leaves

1 tsp finely chopped fresh thyme or ½ tsp dried thyme

½ cup fresh celery tops finely chopped or parsley (or 4 tsps dried parsley)

8 cups cooked and coarsely chopped chicken

4 tsps lemon juice, fresh squeezed

Directions

Prepare wild rice according to package directions (cooks approx. 50-60 minutes). Once the rice is cooked it should have a curled appearance with the darker outer shell broken open to reveal the lighter interior. This can even be prepared 1-2 days ahead of time and kept refrigerated.

The remainder of the recipe can be made in one large pot. Melt butter over medium heat. Then add the onion, celery, carrots, mushrooms and garlic. Stir well and sauté until the onion is softened and translucent.

Add in the flour gradually, until it bubbles slightly. Gradually add in the broth, stirring continuously. Once the flour is combined, turn the heat up and bring the soup to a low boil for 1-2 minutes.

Reduce the heat slightly and add the rice, half and half, soy sauce, salt, pepper, bay leaf, thyme celery leaves and turkey. Simmer for 20 minutes or until thoroughly warmed.

Stir in the fresh lemon juice and season to taste. Serve with bread.

Note: If reheating you may need to thin out the soup with a bit of hot water.

After 231 days of the global pandemic, I found a sense of quiet. Not the kind of quiet that makes you shudder with anxiousness, but rather the kind of quiet that carries with it a sense of serenity. I have no explanation for this unexplained magic, yet that didn’t concern me. As I took the dog on his evening walk, I listened to the nothing-ness abound and absorbed this uncharacteristic sense of calm. It made me miss this space, this place where I come to meet you intermingled with my thoughts.

Despite my lack of blogging, my recipe development has not ceased. I do find that as much as I love to cook and write, the pandemic has also brought with it excessive screen time. I now find it difficult to unwind here as much as I used to enjoy doing so, and I conversely miss being here beyond measure.

When speaking with a friend today, I realized that not only are the emotions of those around me running high, but my emotions, often pushed down, are also quite amplified. With Halloween now in the rear-view mirror, I am forced to admit that I am nearing the point that I almost don’t care about any holidays any longer. The pandemic lifestyle has ruined them all. That’s not to claim that there have not been good outcomes from this locked-in/locked-down abyss. There have been times of great laughter, happiness and joy. It’s just all so stale, and still no true end in sight. I miss being a global citizen of the world, and the fun spent with those friends and family that live far away. I find the less I am out in the world, the less I do in my free time. I am confined with my thoughts, without reprieve. I continue to focus on living in these moments, keeping those around me happy, and helping each of us find moments of joy.

Oddly enough, as expansive as time is, I find that I resist making plans. With an intense work schedule, I crave unstructured time – last minute plans and wishful thinking that someone will serendipitously be nearby and come by to surprise me and say hello. But in this seemingly post-apocalyptic world, that doesn’t really happen.

I focus on my creative vibe – I continue to love to cook. This recipe is one that I hold near and dear to my heart. It is one I created for some of my favorite gluten-free loves, and to me it is a treasure from its light and airy texture to its pleasant flavors. Added bonus, it is refined sugar free. Hold onto this recipe, you are going to want to set this on your repeat list.

Vanilla Cupcakes- Gluten Free

Ingredients

2 cups blanched almond meal

1 cup canned coconut milk

½ cup butter, softened

½ cup rice malt syrup (or honey)

¼ cup coconut flour, lumps removed

4 eggs

1 tsp baking powder (gluten free)

1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place cupcake liners in cupcake pan.

In a large bowl, combine the almond meal, coconut flour and baking powder. Mix with a whisk to combine.

In a small bowl add butter and syrup, beat with a mixer on medium speed until combined. Then add the eggs, vanilla and coconut milk and continue to mix. Batter will appear slightly lumpy.

Add wet mixture into the dry mixture and gently stir by hand until combined.

Pour mixture into the cupcake liners, fill to the top, and bake for 30-35 minutes. Allow cupcakes to cool, they will slightly deflate.

Note: Cupcakes can also be frozen for a later treat if you can resist finishing them off.