October 2013

A lot of things converged recently to inspire this post. My friend and colleague Justine Clay, a coach for creative professionals, was kind enough to feature me in her new blog series about people over fifty. I also read this article in the Times. Then I discovered this amazing project. And I had lunch with Kristin Perers, creator of this wonderful blog. I think no matter what your age, you spend some time and energy dealing with the cultural, physical and emotional repercussions of what that number signifies. Little kids are anxious for the freedom and autonomy that comes with age. Teens grapple with raging hormones and those "awkward" years. The twenties are about experimentation. In our thirties we feel pressure to settle and achieve. (Of course this is all gross generalization, but work with me.) Then things get a bit nebulous. If you have a partner, kids and a career, your forties and fifties must be about that, right? But what if you don't? And what about your sixties, seventies and eighties? Your nineties? (Too optimistic?) Who even talks about those decades? In the culture at large, there is so little conversation about what it means to be vital and creative and truly alive all the way to the end. So much of the focus, especially for women, is on how good we can look for our age. What about our accomplishments, our creativity, our grace, our strength, our sensuality, our talent, our humor?
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If, as Clifton Fadiman so memorably phrased it, cheese is milk’s leap toward immortality, then yogurt must be its first tentative step in that general direction. How milk got culture is actually a bit of a mystery. Most likely, the earliest yogurts were spontaneously fermented by the wild bacteria that proliferated in the goatskin bags where milk was stored. (Yo, Urg, get a whiff of this!) Wherever it took place, the result— particularly when eaten with honey—has been known as food of the gods since ancient times. And, like all godly things, down here on earth it's been widely corrupted. Perhaps you read about the recent debacle with Chobani, the Greek yogurt brand that has been giving Fage a run for its money? They recalled a ton of their product after reports that "moldy" and "fizzing" yogurt in "bloated" containers was making consumers "violently ill." There are so many things wrong with that statement that I don't even know where to begin, so I'll just say that virtually everything seems to suffer from being produced in enormous quantities. Which is why you might want to consider springing for small-batch artisanal yogurt or, better yet, making your own. It's all about quality control and maximum flavor. And health.

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It's not cliché to serve Blood Marys at brunch when they have been elevated by the likes of Lior Lev Sercarz and Jim Meehan. The former is a master of all things related to spices—he recently launched a spice-infused beer with Brooklyn Brewery and a divinely spiced hot chocolate blend—and the latter is a highly original mixologist and owner of PDT (Please Don't Tell), a unique cocktail den in New York City. (Check out his greatest hits in The PDTCocktail Book.) These two put their heads together to reinvent the classic Bloody Mary with a judicious use of spices and clever combinations of fresh ingredients, spirits and aromatics. The result is 4 complex spice blends accompanied by 4 distinctive recipes for delicious tomato juice-based drinks that aren't just for brunch.  Not a drinker? You can also use the spice blends to make very nice virgin versions. Try the classic B-Mary, with vodka, smoked paprika, celery seeds and black pepper; the B-Marion, a Scandinavian version with aquavit, caraway, anise and orange; the B-Marlene, with gin, juniper, coriander and cardamom; and the one I made yesterday, the B-María, with tequila, green chile, cilantro and chipotle. It's spicy, piquant, highly flavored and truly addictive—perfect for entertaining, even if you're all alone.
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It's been that kind of week. Wrestling with my demons practically non-stop. The Nikon came back from being repaired in the exact same state as when we sent it in. And had to go back again. A new client who owes me $20k for work that was received with great praise has not paid me after nearly 4 months and is giving me the runaround. And, on top of everything, an ancient spill on my computer has suddenly reared its ugly head and the S and W keys are spitting out all kinds of nonsense. (Like this: ƒ©˙∆˚¬adfs∆˚¬) I have figured out some workarounds, but I'll try to avoid those letters for now (yeah, right), though the laptop is clearly destined for the repair shop, too, and that is about as convenient as cutting off my left hand. #^%$#^%! (No, that was me cursing.)

I've felt alternately bitter, frightened, vulnerable, defiant and beaten down. But here I am. Pity party notwithstanding, one thing I didn't do was lose sight of my commitment to my health. I still went hiking several times this week and looked at the beautiful changing foliage. I did my daily body scan meditation for my MBSR class. I went to yoga twice. I stayed with my regimen of supplements and ate pretty well. And I credit all this with helping me keep it together instead of collapsing into a black funk or throwing a tantrum (well, more than one). So, while I wasted a fair amount of time fuming and worrying, I'm still giving myself some credit for not sliding headlong into total despair or a tub of dulce de leche ice cream.
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