Few things are worse than a summer cold. The usual trajectory for me is straight from a terrible sore throat to an aggravated chest cough. Lying in bed, feverish and tangled in the sheets, there’s nothing I crave more than an icy lemonade. So I stumbled into the kitchen, squeezed 2/3 cup of lemon juice and poured that along with an almost equal amount of raw blue agave nectar into the blender. Then I filled it up with ice, added a cup of water and processed it into a crystalline slurpie. Heaven. With that and a good book (and an antibiotic if need be), I’m on the mend.

A friend sent in a request for me to write something about my skincare regimen, so here goes. I’ve never denied that vanity has often been the impetus for me seeking out healthier alternatives in all things—the fact that they are actually more effective and make you feel better turns out to be a real bonus. I’ve posted a picture of myself so you can see that I have my fair share of wrinkles. (Full disclosure: It’s been 9 months since I stopped getting the Botox injections that were first offered to me 10 years ago at my dermatologist’s office in Los Angeles. Doctor: You have a little crease between your eyes. Have you thought about Botox? Me: Never heard of it—give it to me!! ) I’m pushing 50 and I have the usual issues with my face: sagging upper eyelids, enlarging pores, loss of elasticity and those little brown spots that seem to crop up overnight. This is what the cosmetics industry refers to as “mature skin.” I have wrestled with the idea of getting my eyes done, and I still maintain that if I ever get a big turkey wattle, I will have it removed, but I don’t want to struggle to look young. I want to be my truest, most authentic self, and feel good about it. (I’m even experimenting with letting my hair go grey, after coloring it every 3 weeks for years and years. It’s going to be a rough transition, so wish me luck!)

All things considered, I feel pretty good about my skin, and I owe most of it to this gorgeous creature. Claudia Colombo is a walking advertisement for her own services. Not only does she have the most beautiful skin on the planet, but she is the best facialist ever. I have been seeing her every 6 weeks or so for the last 5 years. I first visited her in a state of crisis over my perimenopausal cystic acne. She has a holistic approach to skincare (which means she’ll ask what you eat, how you deal with stress, etc.), and she uses and sells wonderful, natural products that still contain very “active” ingredients. The great news is, even if you’re not in New York, you can visit her website and order products there. Claudia will even consult with you over email. I am totally addicted to the CosMedix line she sells. Their products are based on the theory that inflammation is the core cause of all skin conditions, and they use chiral technology to purify their ingredients, which are free of artificial additives, paraben, glycolic acid, sodium lauryl sulfate and benzoyl peroxide. The bottom line is, they really work! Everyone I have ever sent to Claudia (men and women alike) agrees. There is no denying that my skin is clearer, smoother and more radiant than I would have thought possible at this age.

My other recommendations are:

Always wear sunscreen! UVA rays penetrate glass! Melanoma is on the rise in this country.

Eat a well-balanced diet of whole, unprocessed foods. Don’t skimp on fats, you need them for good health. Cut way back on sugars. They cause inflammation and you can see the effects of it in your skin.

Drink plenty of water. Duh.

And most importantly: Be happy and love yourself. Radiance derives from this.

I’ve decided to post about this delicious Korean “tea” because, even though it’s delicious hot and is particularly helpful during cold and flu season, it can also be enjoyed on ice throughout the warmer months. I was first served this wonderfully flavorful brew at Jin Soon in the East Village, where I occasionally have a pedicure (although I stopped wearing polish on my toes a couple of years ago). They call it “citrus tea.” When I asked about it they told me it comes “pre-mixed,” and when I pressed them they said it was from a can with Korean writing on it. Hmmm…I could tell it didn’t really have any actual tea in it, but I was perplexed by the type of citrus, as it was sweet without any hint of bitterness despite the pulpy rind floating in it. I next encountered this tea at HanGawi, a favorite vegetarian Korean restaurant, where the ginger tea with pine nuts is also a winner. And by then I got a clue and googled it to find out just what exactly I was drinking.

I learned that it’s a popular tea in Korea, but it’s really more of a marmalade—fruit (with the rind intact) and sugar or honey cooked down to a thick, pulpy paste. It can also be seen as Yuzu tea (yuja cha in Korean), although yuzu and citron are two different fruits. Yuzu (Citrus ichangensis x Citrus reticulata) is a cold-hardy Asian citrus fruit that originated in China and was then introduced to Japan and Korea. It is rarely eaten as a fruit, but both the juice and zest are prized in cooking. Citron (Citrus medica), on the other hand, most likely also originated in Asia, but subsequently spread throughout the Mediterranean. The flavors of the two seem comparable—a combination of lemon, lime, grapefruit and tangerine—though I think that yuzu is a bit more tart. Citron may bear more of a resemblance to the kumquat, which is eaten rind and all. In fact, the Cantonese often preserve kumquats in salt. A batch of the fruit is buried in dry salt inside a glass jar and, over time, all the juice from the fruit diffuses into the salt. The fruit shrinks, becoming wrinkled and brown, and the salt combines with the juice to make a dark brine. A few salted kumquats with a few teaspoons of the brine are mixed with hot water to make a remedy for sore throats. A jar of such preserved kumquats can last several years and still keep its taste. (I have the last kumquats of the season in my fridge and just may try this!) ANYWAY, look for a jar (or can?) of the stuff in your local Korean grocer, or order it online here, or here, as I did. whatever you see—citron tea, yuzu spread, citron/yuzu marmalade—simply stir a couple of spoonfuls into hot water to enjoy as a delicious hot drink and a remedy for the common cold. In warmer months, blend it hot and then chill, to serve over ice, garnished with a sprig of mint, for a refreshing cooler.

photo by george billard

I’m drinking alone. Though partial to a bourbon cocktail, preferably The Eldred, I’ve never been able to knock back much booze. I’ve got a 2-drink limit, because otherwise I head from pleasantly tipsy straight to clutching the bowl. But this bottle of Root has been winking at me from the liquor cabinet ever since it arrived in the mail, having caught G’s fancy when he read about it somewhere. I took a teensy sip some time ago and realized it was not something I was going to be drinking straight. This is some seriously intense juice that needs to be coaxed into a sippable cocktail. So I’ve been mixing up a few different blends, trying to take the medicinal edge off the stuff. I’ve got a rocks glass in one hand, and my new Kindle in the other. I’m reading Mary Karr’s memoir, Lit, about her slurring downward spiral into the quicksand of alcoholism—and her hardscrabble ascent out of it. The irony is not lost on me. I also read and enjoyed her other book, The Liar’s Club, about her deeply unfortunate childhood. She writes with raw feeling and has that hysterical, bawdy wit that is often the veneer over lacerating pain. But back to Root.

It’s made by a Philadelphia-based company called Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction that’s bold enough to define itself as a vehicle “through which modern thinkers marry reverence for enlightened ideals with the mandate to reach more minds in an ever-fickle urban scene.” OK then. Root harkens back to an 18th century pharmacist’s herbal remedy made from sassafras, sarsparilla, birch bark and assorted other roots foraged from the wilds of Pennsylvania. Like so many of us, it gradually grew in potency until it was positively alcoholic—though paradoxically it was then called “root tea.” (With the advent of the Temperance Movement, the alcohol was extracted and only then became what we know as “root beer.”) This throwback to the original brew is an intriguing (if rather medicinal) mix of organic herbs and spices, including birch bark, sarsparilla, smoked black tea, sugar cane, essence of sassafras, orange and lemon peel, allspice, star anise, cinnamon, clove, cardamom (my fave) and nutmeg. I can only imagine it does have some “digestive” benefits. In truth, it tastes quite a bit like root beer (with a vague wintergreeny soupçon of wax lips) and I can imagine floating a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the stuff and being quite happy. But for now I have been content to play in the adult sandbox, and I hereby offer you a couple of very grown-up Root cocktails. I went online to see what other “mixologists” (already the word gags me) have been concocting with it and experimented with a few of their recipes. Do NOT mix this with Scotch, unless you want to kiss the porcelain throne. I am not kidding. Actually, I think you should only buy a bottle if you REALLY LOVE root beer. That said, I found one rum drink that is rather good, and I came up with one of my own that involves (no surprise) bourbon. Cheers! (Allowed, because I am holding a drink as I say it.)

G was up and out at 4 this morning, on his way to the airport. He’ll be away working for a few days and I am on my own, with just the company of Titi and no one to cook for. It’s perfect timing. My horoscope for this month says I am in a highly contemplative and creative phase, one that’s ideal for instilling new, positive habits and for taking care of myself. What better time, then, to go on a juice fast? Some people are very freaked out by the idea of fasting, so let me say very clearly here that I am not a doctor, nor a trained fasting therapist. But what I do know is that fasting has been used for thousands of years as a means of cleaning out the body and refreshing the mind. Our bodies—like the sun and moon, the tides, the stars—go through cycles, with highs and lows. During a low phase we may feel sluggish, bloated, weighed down (some people experience this as depression). This is an ideal time to lighten your body’s load by fasting. Fasting is not starvation! It’s a way to let your organs rest a bit, to get rid of the toxins that build up from chemicals, pollutants and over-indulgence. Along with a good diet, regular exercise and supplements, fasting will help you fight off illness and disease, maintain a high level of energy and improve your mood. I try to fast at the beginning of each season, so about 4 times a year.

For my juice fast, I will consume up to 60 ounces of fresh green juice a day, plus about the same amount of water. The ingredients I juice include parsley, cabbage, spinach, kale, watercress, apple, pear, fennel, carrot, ginger and lemon. If I feel like I really need something more substantial, I may have a smoothie with coconut water and banana. It’s best to avoid chewing when you fast (gum, etc) as this starts the secretion of digestive enzymes into the gastrointestinal tract which, with no food in your system, can lead to discomfort. Because pure juice doesn’t contain much fiber, it’s good to use a fiber supplement, like psyllium husk fiber or bran, when you fast. This is also an ideal time to use an enema, and to dry-brush your skin (brush toward the heart with a natural bristle brush). These practices also help to eliminate toxic build-up. Side effects from fasting will vary greatly. If you have addictions to caffeine or alcohol, or have been eating lots of sugar, you may experience headaches or feel grumpy the first day or two. Positive side effects include clearer skin and eyes, improved digestive and bowel function, increased energy, enhanced mood, weight loss and mental clarity. It is often suggested that you eat a very simple, primarily raw diet based on fruits and vegetables for two days before and after a juice fast. This helps to ease your system in and out of the fasting state. So, yes, it’s a bit of a commitment. And it takes you out of your normal routine. People around you may resist all this, saying it’s kooky, or too much of a hassle. I say, it’s something you do for yourself and the benefits to your health and well-being are great.

VITALITY JUICE

serves 2

A nice dose of vitamins C and A, and a hit of anti-inflammatory power from the ginger.

3 ripe pears

1 fennel bulb

1 large bunch watercress

1 2” knob of ginger

1 lemon

Slice the pears and fennel bulb into quarters. Pare the peel and pith from the lemon, and slice in half.

Run all ingredients through a juicer.* Pour into a glass and drink immediately.

* The one I use, which is not cheap but works very well and has lasted me much longer than other, less sturdy models, is the Breville Juice Fountain Elite.

Isn’t there something faintly S&M about this illustration? I just love it. Kudos to Jan Richter for her great eye and accomplished technique. (And I happen to know she makes a mean coq au vin.) This is just the sort of plump organic bird you want to find when you’re setting out to make any number of cold-weather dishes. G makes the classic Jewish penicillin when I get sick (about once a year, knock wood) but I often look further east for something therapeutic. This recipe tips its hat to a classic Hispanic arroz con pollo but shifts gears with anti-inflammatory turmeric; lots of warming, healing ginger; and a hit of fish sauce. I think it’s similar to the Filipino arroz caldo. You keep cooking the rice so it’s somewhere between risotto and congee, that perfect comforting texture. And the bright yellow color is like a ray of sunshine.

photo by george billard

My apologies for the wordplay. I simply can’t resist. The talented farmers up the road from us at River Brook Farm in Cochecton grow a few grapes and I was lucky enough to get my hands on some. These green beauties had the most amazing smell! I don’t know which variety they are but they were bursting with fruity flavor, sweet and tart and juicy. I was beside myself trying to come up with a way of using them and I finally decided to make a syrupy juice that could be diluted with water. Of course, we ate quite a few of them as a snack and now that I’ve been clued in to the nutritional benefits of the seeds, I have taken to chewing them (not that bad) or simply swallowing them whole (less bother).

Grapes contain resveratrol, a polyphenol antioxidant that has been found to inhibit cancer, heart disease, Alzheimer’s and viral infections. Recently, I read it may help to prevent fat from building up in the liver. It also makes you irresistibly sexy. (Not really. I wish.) Grape seed extract belongs to a class of free-radical-scavenging antioxidants called bioflavanoids, and is much more potent than vitamins C and E. Much of the goodness in grapes is concentrated in the skin and seeds, so bear that in mind for both eating out of hand and cooking.

My friend Bryan Thomson—a supremely gifted hair colorist AND an herbalist extraordinaire—has inspired me to delve deeper into the world of natural medicine. I began using this book about 10 years ago during an extremely stressful time of my life when my skin was bad and my hair was falling out, and I soon found myself making yellow dock poultices and steaming my face with dried strawberry leaves. Did it work? The short answer is “Yes.” But, more to the point, I discovered a new way to approach my own health; one that let me be more in charge and that led to a deeper understanding of how to treat stress and other physical ailments with herbs and nutrition. This is not to say that I won’t take a pill. But I like to avoid that and will first try many a remedy of my own devising, based on the ancient wisdom derived from nature. This tonic is a great example.

It’s both a preventative and a cure, and it’s something you can make and keep on hand to ward off seasonal colds and flus. Bryan gave me the recipe and after I made it—using echinacea and lemon balm I grew in my garden—I was surprised to find it tastes quite a bit like bitters you might add to a cocktail! Like many old-time remedies, it is alcohol-based. Bryan recommends you swallow a tablespoon or two whenever you feel a cold coming on.

I get a little overheated when I start proselytizing about green juice. (Sorry about the blurry photo, I’m still trying to figure all this out/coerce G into shooting for me.) I owe my conversion to Sally Kravich, an amazing nutritionist who practices in both L.A. and New York. Her book, “Vibrant Living” has set a lot of people on the path to radiant health. (It was my great friend and longtime hairstylist, Sarah Mills, who turned me on to Sally but she’s a whole other story.) Among other things, Sally uses iridology to help with her assessment of your health, and it freaks me out every time. How can she look at my pupil and know that my neck hurts??

Anyway, Sally taught me the difference between acid and alkaline foods (basically protein and starch versus fruits and vegetables) and how to use juicing and supplements to boost my energy, address symptoms of perimenopause and support my skin and hair. (OK, I admit it, I have often approached health and nutrition through the vanity doorway!) Sally introduced me to the wonders of green juice and I have never looked back. When you drink freshly made vegetable and fruit juices, you are ingesting vital, energizing food. It will replenish your minerals, alkalize your body, help your digestion/bowels, flush out toxins and bring elasticity to your skin. Drink it in the morning, drink it in the afternoon, just drink it. I am not talking about Jamba Juice, that frozen sugary slush masquerading as something good for you: this is the real thing you make yourself (or teach your husband to make).

I bought my first juicer about 10 years ago. For the last 5 years, I’ve used this Breville model, which is a bit of an investment at around $250 but so worth it given the many deeply personal benefits. If you think juicing is too much of a hassle, just think how much of a hassle it will be to drag around your saggy, constipated, sorry, haggard ass for the rest of your life…