Still, I say: It’s never too late to celebrate spring.

And actually, I can’t think of anything more compelling than stirring a lush pot of risotto on a rainy spring evening.

Rosé will be poured without complaint.

It’s true, this spring has seemed to escape me. I’ve been so deep in the creation of my new line that I haven’t yet had the chance to take part in many of my favorite welcome rituals for the season.

(Though I did make a first rendition of a rhubarb coffee cake that I plan on perfecting again this weekend, so look forward to that soon.)

((And we did manage to plant our first baby garden, my Mother’s Day wish fulfilled. I suppose we’re not doing so bad after all —))

(((I’ll just add this here, to manifest, we are going strawberry picking — which somehow never fails to escape us every June past.)))

So here it is, a beautiful and verdant green pot of risotto.

Briefly I considered whether I wanted to make this a romantic stirring-on-the-stove or a lazy-yet-lovely oven risotto. I opted for romance.

To me the joy of risotto is the stirring. I’ll save the oven variation for when I’m in weeknight mode, likely opting for a healthier grain like farro or barley.

This risotto begs to be stirred while you indulge in a just-before-5pm glass of wine, this makes the children attaching themselves to your ankles much more tolerable.

If you don’t have to make your risotto at 5pm because you don’t have children attaching themselves to your ankles, then here’s something better: An impromptu dinner party! A chic mini spring fête. Send the text to a few favorites. Let them bring the cheese and wine and you can gossip while you stir.

People think risotto isn’t meant to be a dinner party dish because of the stirring, but it depends on the dinner party. Keep it light, keep it cool.

If you want to make it into a meal (because let’s say you also have a husband who wouldn’t consider this a meal without a palm’s worth of protein) you can do what I did and get yourself a little container of jumbo lump crab meat, mix it with a squeeze of Kewpie, lemon and chives, and pile it onto baguette slices.

It’s giving spring!

Enjoy the bounty 💚
x Sarah

—

Sarah Spiegel designs apparel and textiles for the rituals of home. The new collection arrives Spring 2027. Join the waitlist.

Spring Green Risotto

All you need to do to achieve this lush green color is toss a bag or bunch of spinach (along with chives for flavor) into a food processor and stir it in at the end. You could blanch it first to make it even more green but honestly it’s perfect as is.

Serves 6.

INGREDIENTS

• 2 tablespoons olive oil

• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided

• 1 bunch ramps* — bulbs thinly sliced, greens reserved

• 2 medium leeks, white and light green parts, or 2 shallots, finely chopped

• Kosher salt and cracked black pepper

• 7-8 cups chicken or vegetable stock*

• 5-8 ounces baby spinach (a bag, container, or bunch works fine)

• Fresh chives

• 2 cups Arborio rice*

• 1 cup dry white wine (or rosé)

• 2 cups frozen peas, thawed (or fresh, blanched)

• 1 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more to serve

• 1 large lemon, zested and juiced

INSTRUCTIONS

In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, heat olive oil and 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat. Add the leeks or shallots and ramp bulbs and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, warm stock gently in a saucepan with a ladle at the ready. Pulse spinach and chives in the food processor until very finely chopped. Set aside.

Add rice to the pot, seasoning generously salt and a bit of black pepper, stirring the rice to coat, letting it toast lightly for 2 minutes.

Pour in wine and stir until fully absorbed.

Add the warm stock one ladleful at a time, stirring frequently and waiting until each addition is mostly absorbed before adding the next. Adjust heat to maintain a steady, gentle simmer. Continue until the rice is tender but still has a slight bite, about 25–30 minutes. You may not need all the stock.

Stir in the spinach, peas, and ramp greens, if using.

Remove from the heat. Add in the remaining butter along with the cheese, along with the lemon juice and zest. Stir vigorously until the risotto is creamy and glossy. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Top each bowl with a drizzle of finishing olive oil and a pinch of flaky sea salt. Serve extra Parmigiano-Reggiano at the table.

NOTES

For the crab toast: Mix ½ lb good quality lump crab with just enough Kewpie mayo to bind it, a squeeze of lemon, flaky salt, and a little fresh chive or tarragon. Pile onto thin baguette slices toasted in olive oil until golden. Serve alongside or right on top of the risotto.

Ramps: Optional but the harbinger of spring (sadly, we’re a bit too late this year — but there’s always next!) Use the bulbs as your allium base and tear the greens in at the end with the peas.

Rice: I buy the Seggiano brand which comes in a 500g box, using the whole thing, which is a little over 2 cups. This probably means you’ll need closer to the 8 full cups of stock.

Stock: Unless I happen to have homemade stock on hand, I keep a huge jar of Better than Bouillon without fail.

To celebrate, we took our girls to the restaurant where said date took place.

Dahlia, our 17-month old, very much enjoyed her butter-soaked pasta before proceeding to rub it all over her face and hair. She also insisted on lying down in the middle of the floor most of the evening. Still, having them there was a surreal moment I’ll never forget and I’m so glad we trekked out to Brooklyn on that late Sunday afternoon — even stopping in front of my old building to give each other kisses in the precise spot where Daddy and I shared our first.

In this nostalgic spirit (and with the knowing that we do have a pretty good meet-cute) — today I am sharing that story.

To start, my husband is not named Jeffrey.

This is, rather, an inside joke from our early courting days.

(Yes, clever one — we are speaking of Ina and. The original and beloved date-night-in couple!)

Is it an unpopular opinion, though, that we always felt Jeffrey a touch distant to Ina? Like grateful for the food, but… idk. I always wanted a little more for her.

Still we couldn’t help but mark our similarities, as I would, in near childlike excitement, present Jared with elaborate meals in my Williamsburg apartment.

I had nearly forgotten about this until the other day when I was digging through my Notes app and came across:

Reading through it my heart wept a little. Who was the girl who cooked all these dishes?

I was still knee-deep in my catering days, to be sure.

But okay, Jared! Getting the five-star private chef treatment. And this was well beyond multi-course dinners. This was plated desserts with multiple components, homemade ice cream, on a Tuesday.

the manifesting

Rewinding a few months prior to when these dinners began unfolding.

I was casually dating someone when I found out he had a “light” addiction problem. When I confronted him about it, I found myself on the receiving end of these famous last words: “I’ll quit, I’ll change, please just give me a chance.”

Oh, I had been there before. But this time I knew better. While in the past I may have stuck around for longer than I’d like to admit, this time I said, nope. Not for me.

Next.

A few weeks later I’m hanging out on Facebook in a group for women entrepreneurs I was part of, as one does in 2016.

I see a post from someone talking about how they’re looking to manifest their forever person, with an open invitation to share our own wish list for a partner on the thread.

Without much of a thought, I jumped in. While I don’t remember exactly what I wrote, I know it had something to do with a man who is confident in who he is, who knows who he is, with his own passions and interests and values, intelligent with an appetite for deeper conversation, absolutely must make me laugh, and also probably that he’s tall.

(People familiar with Jared and his 6’4 build are feeling in the know right now.)

Meanwhile I’m starting a business and I decide now that I need an LLC. I head back to aforementioned Facebook group and ask the ladies for a lawyer rec.

Harper, cousin of one of Jared’s best friends from growing up, responds with — you guessed it — Jared’s name.

Now at the same time unbeknownst to me she is texting him to let him know that she has just recommended his services to a young woman starting a business who may be attractive and, having borne witness to my earlier manifestation participation, single.

I show up to Jared’s office in Flatiron on my way to a yoga class, sans makeup. While she had prepped him for this potential meet-cute, I was blindly heading to meet a potential lawyer and going about my day.

Walking into the conference room, there were sparks right away. He was eager, excited. And I found this cute.

We had a couple of phone conversations thereafter, there was some heavy flirting.

Meanwhile, of course I’m telling all my friends the details, “What do I do? He seems like a great lawyer but I also want to date him! Can I date my lawyer?!”

“Date him! It’s New York, there are plenty of lawyers — you can always find another one,” was the universal response.

I call him and tell him he’s hired. The next step is for us to meet up so I can sign the agreement.

Oh and this part I always love, because now is where he tells me, almost sheepishly, “I know you’re a busy entrepreneur, so why don’t you pick a place in Williamsburg [reminder: my neighborhood] around 7pm?”

The coffee shops aren’t even open at 7pm, so this alone very much confirms: it’s a date.

I suggest Reynard, naturally — this was the restaurant at the Wythe Hotel, my neighborhood spot just a block away, a kind of real-life chic Brooklyn version of Cheers, where everybody knew my name.

We go to sit in the front bar area at a table, order cocktails.

Over an hour in the waiter inquires, “Are we ordering dinner?”

Jared looks at me (again, still sheepishly) and says, “Well, I would love to — but I don’t want to be too forward, is that okay with you?”

Ha! By this point we hadn’t spoken about “business” once.

Yes, of course we’ll order dinner.

And there on continued our first 3 (4?)+ hour date, nary a word about our professional reason for meeting — though I do recall sloppily signing some papers as we gathered our things to leave for the evening.

He walked me home, kissed me outside my door.

He’ll tell you, as he tells me, he just knew that night that something about me was different.

So perhaps I didn’t need to seduce him with those meals, the way I did.

But it wasn’t a conscious choice. Cooking is my love language. It was as much my joy as it was his.

I would later learn that he was even more seduced by my form of sorcery because he grew up in a house without much home-cooking. So he appreciated it that much more.

It checks out that I wouldn’t have ended up with anyone else.

I will never forget those dinners in my little Williamsburg apartment.

And oh, how I miss cooking like that. The luxury! The idea of a long, slow afternoon spent shelling fava beans, getting the sous vide machine out for a rack of lamb, roasting rhubarb for sorbet. An otherworldly feeling.

The other night I was saying to Jared how emotional I am that Violet, who is nearing 5, feels like such a big girl now. And he was saying he had just talked with a friend with older kids, how totally insane it feels to spend every moment of so many years so absorbed and intertwined in our children’s energy and then it’s, they’re, just — gone.

And I couldn’t help but think: a second act for Meals for Jeffrey.

I had grand plans to finish this before my birthday but alas it has passed and here we are.

I’ve seen these lists floating around and felt inspired to create my own. It’s a compilation of wisdom, lessons, life experiences, mottos and mantras I’ve grown to live by. Pieces of advice I might give to my younger self — or on occasion, reminders to my current self.

1. Always be evolving. I get asked a lot how I’ve had the confidence to try so many things in my career. And it’s because I value growth and evolution above all else. I love to learn something new, to expand, to discover and grow into a new challenge. I want as many different life experiences as I can collect. What else are we doing here?

2. Our relationships are our greatest teachers. This is why the monk living alone in the mountains can never truly reach enlightenment. It’s easy to feel enlightened when no one is around to trigger you.

3. Take a solo trip. Before I met my husband I had fallen in love with a dear friend and he died in a very tragic way. I was extremely lost and grieving and decided to book a trip to France (he was born in Paris and we had discussed moving there) alone for three weeks. It was so healing and an experience I will never forget, one that I believe we all need (though not only in response to tragedy). And while you could certainly take a more local trip I do think there is something to being absorbed in a culture outside of your own. Traveling alone means eating meals alone, seeing new things and exploring alone and it all becomes a meditation, a chance to get to know yourself in ways you can’t access otherwise. Doing this in my late 20s was formative but I imagine it offering something different and worthwhile during all of life’s chapters.

4. Be a collector, of something. It’s fun and makes life interesting, like a constant treasure hunt. Find something unique to you that you enjoy. My MIL used to collect miniature dollhouse items and I love that for her. My aunt went through an extensive milk-glass phase. I myself had a pink depression glass era and have since moved on to vintage napkin rings.

5. Accept that people aren’t perfect, and don’t try so hard to change them. This is one that comes with age and life experience. I find it to be especially relevant in our relationships with our parents and partners (probably children as well, mine are too little to have experienced this yet). To love someone is to accept their imperfections. And when we stop trying so hard to change them we find a lot more peace.

6. Spend time with people who energize and uplift you. On the flip side of acceptance, we sometimes evolve out of certain friendships and relationships — and that’s okay. The older I get, the less tolerance I have for negativity or drama. And since becoming a mother I’m even more intentional with my time. If I’m spending time away from my girls, the connection needs to feel nourishing, never taxing.

7. Make home your sanctuary. Create a home that reflects you, regenerates you, inspires you. You know the feeling of walking into a beautiful space, like the perfect hotel lobby? You can create your own version of that. It doesn’t have to be grand. It just means paying attention to what you like, and experimenting. And it can be done on a budget, I have seen some incredible spaces made possible by Facebook Marketplace.

8. Age like a witch. When it comes, I will be leaning into my crone era.

9. Self-compassion is the medicine we all need. As a child of addicts, I carried a lot of shame and perfectionism. I was so hard on myself and while I understood the concept of self-love, it felt impossible to re-wire that programming within myself. After years of journaling/therapy/books/mirror exercises it finally clicked: Where is this getting me? What if I could be my own best friend? It took time but I was eventually able to make that shift and it changed everything. It may sound cliché, but I truly believe collective self-compassion has the power to heal the world.

10. It’s okay to not always be right. My husband would tell you I’m still learning this and he wouldn’t be wrong. He happens to be very good at apologizing quickly to get past something even if he doesn’t feel he was fully in the wrong. Connection > correctness.

11. Embrace a natural look. Maybe it’s as simple as becoming more comfortable in my own skin as I age, but I find myself wearing far less makeup than I used to when I was younger. Looking back at my 2016 lash-extension era makes me giggle. I remember so vividly a night when Jared came to my apartment in Williamsburg when we first started dating for a cozy night in, and having a full face of makeup. I remember looking in the mirror and for the first time thinking it did look a bit odd but doing it anyway. Today I’ll wear foundation and mascara for a night out but most days I enjoy the simplest routine: a couple drops of this magic mixed with my face oil, and some days a bit of this under my eyes. Always coupled with a good lash curl.

12. Learn to roast a chicken / bake a cake / make a perfect martini. Choose something you love and make it your thing. Your own little specialty. Do it over and over again and you will do it well. Then share it with the people you love and multiply the joy.

13. Buy the very best bedding you can afford. Maybe it’s because I’m in my mom-to-young-kids era, but there is nothing more sacred than climbing into my pristine, cloud-like bed each evening. Yes, we spend one-third of our lives in bed. Make it as luxurious as possible.

14. Use good knives. If you think you can’t cook, my guess is that you may be operating with sub-par kitchen knives, cutting board, pans, all the tools. I’m here to tell you, it makes a difference. I don’t love cooking myself when I’m at my in-laws trying to cut through a vegetable and wondering… how?! Upgrade your tools and see how much more you enjoy using them.

15. Your home is a living organism. I’m only just learning this because I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place long enough to really experience it. Our tastes change over the years and while we evolve our wardrobes without a thought, for some reason we’re slower to update our homes. Having lived in our rental home for five years now, I’ve looked around more than once and thought… oh. This doesn’t quite feel like me anymore. Our homes should evolve and grow as we do.

16. There is no such thing as objective reality — only our own perceptions. While I do love a good philosophical debate, I find this reminder to be more practical than anything else. A simple example: have you ever convinced yourself someone is mad at you? They didn’t call or respond to your text, and now you’re questioning what happened in your last conversation, creating some story in your mind… then you talk to them and discover everything’s fine and it was all in your head? A question I like to ask myself if I’m experiencing a negative thought is: Is it really true? Can I know with 100% certainty that this is true? Most often, the answer is no — and that helps me release the thought.

17. Face your pain. When my father’s condition began to deteriorate in my early 20s, I had no choice but to look at the deep grief, shame, and pain I carried around my parents. I remember journaling for the first time and it was like a tidal wave of emotions swept onto the page, so much I hadn’t yet had the courage to face as a child or teenager. Journaling remains one of my most steadfast tools (in addition to therapy, honest conversations, even ChatGPT) to meet those feelings, explore them, bring them into the open so that they can lose their power. We can’t integrate what we refuse to name.

18. We’re all creative. It’s part of what makes us human. Along the way I disconnected from this part of myself as many of us do. When my father was sick I started painting and it opened up something inside of me. I started taking all sorts of classes and while much of it didn’t come naturally, I found a great deal of joy and healing in the process. On top of that, it led me to what I’m doing now — another lesson lived in trusting our path which is so often non-linear.

19. Challenges are opportunities and redirections. I find myself inspired by challenges these days rather than triggered by them. For instance when I decided to pick my line back up after Dahlia was born I excitedly went back to my production partners only to be told they no longer had room in their calendar for me. Years ago I would have been devastated but instead I felt like, okay — something better for me is out there. And I was right! I ended up finding another partner who was even more aligned.

20. When eating out, we’re paying to fill our bellies, not finish the food. Growing up I spent a lot of time with my grandparents, who helped my dad raise me. They ate out for every meal, which now seems insane but felt normal at the time. Outside of Wednesday nights at the country club it wasn’t anything fancy: Sonny’s BBQ on Mondays, Ruby Tuesday’s at the mall on Saturdays. My grandpa always told us we could order whatever we wanted as long as we ate it all. One day my aunt pulled the waiter aside privately and asked him to double Papa’s portion. We watched him struggle through his meal for a good bit before my aunt caved and told him what she did. Everyone got a good laugh and it became Schiear family lore. But it always stuck with me how she framed it — that we’re paying the price to fill ourselves, not to finish what’s on the plate. And if you’re someone who worries about food waste (I do), her logic there was equally sound: finishing food past fullness doesn’t prevent waste, it simply shifts where the waste happens.

21. No one knows better than you. In my twenties and even thirties, I leaned heavily on external sources (business advice, mentors, tarot, astrology) looking for answers. Over time I realized no one knows my life, my instincts, or my timing better than I do. If something isn’t clear in the moment it likely isn’t time yet.

22. If you want more, be grateful for what you have. The real secret to manifesting starts with a borderline obsessive gratitude practice. Feel deeply into the joy and abundance already present in your life. Why would the universe give you more if you don’t appreciate what you have?

23. Live like the French. There are so many things they get right. Take time and indulge in longer meals where connection is prioritized rather than rushing to the next thing. Enjoy all of the rich, real foods in moderation (croissants, cheese, chocolate, etc.) Embrace your natural beauty and don’t try too hard. And dip your fries in mayo, always.

24. Return to love. When I feel triggered by a person or situation, I stop and ask myself: How can I see this through a lens of love? That question almost always shifts something. It’s not about excusing or bypassing — it’s about responding from softness instead of ego. When I come from a place of love, I feel most like myself. I am aligned with the person I want to be. Reading Marianne Williamson’s Return to Love in my early 20s was instrumental in this awareness.

25. Don’t save the good stuff. Oh my, have I been guilty of this one. Talk about scarcity mindset! When I got back from that solo trip to France I had brought all these fabulous mustards and canned patés back with me and I saved them for a special occasion until one day I looked and they were all expired. Don’t do that. Call a friend and enjoy that foie gras.

26. Meditate. I know some might not want to hear it, but… it’s essential. I learned how to meditate after losing Harry and it saved me. If it’s new to you, there are so many paths in; an app like Insight Timer is a good place to start. I first learned reading the book Full Catastrophe Living by Jon Kabat-Zinn, which goes through the MBSR (meditation-based stress reduction) technique he brought to hospitals and other groups back in the 70s. It was an 8-week program where you meditated 45 minutes a day, which felt like a lot for a beginner but I was desperate. Later after losing both my parents I decided to go deeper with a 10-day silent Vipassana retreat which was, for lack of a better word, life-changing. I could write a book on all that I gained, but here’s one of my favorite learnings: Most of our suffering comes from arguing with reality. We’re constantly fighting situations we wish were different, a person we wish would be different. Often ourselves. Meditation teaches us to accept what is, what is out of our control. We can only control how we react. We all understand this in theory, but meditation is a tool to help us actually embody it.

27. Have integrity in all that you do. Fun fact, I worked at Bed, Bath & Beyond in high school. I loved that store! My manager there left an impression on me. He used to say the most successful people do their best no matter the job in front of them. Meaning, working your first job at a retail chain. Do your best and take pride in your work, no matter what. How you do one thing is how you do everything.

28. Be open to signs. Another good reason to meditate. If you are constantly filling yourself with distractions like work, phone, television, food, et al — there’s no space to hear/see these messages. In the white space you will discover the wisdom (and magic) you are seeking. The Alchemist is an excellent book to reconnect with this.

29. Journal before bed (if you worry at night). I always find this so helpful when I have a lot on my mind. Don’t worry about writing anything profound, sometimes just making a simple list of what’s bothering you or what you have to do the next day helps clear the slate for a good night’s rest.

30. Track your cycle. It’s crazy to me that I went most of my adult life without understanding how deeply our menstrual cycles affect us. I first discovered this through Alissa Vitti’s Flo Living, where I began to understand the different phases and how to not only treat my body but even to do my best mental and creative work throughout the month. Now I use ChatGPT where I keep an active thread logging all of my periods, symptoms, etc. (so simple to just open my phone and talk to it). This has brought much deeper insights for me personally — for instance, I’ve struggled with sleep in recent years but now I understand it’s directly tied to my cycle. Now it’s less of a problem to solve and more of a rhythm to roll with.

31. Listen to your body. Over the years I’ve learned that my body prefers more gentle, Pilates-based movement over strenuous cardio and HIIT classes that often left me more inflamed than anything else. Our bodies are constantly giving us information — about rest, stress, what to eat, decisions great and small. The problem is we like to override.

32. Don’t open your phone first thing in the morning. It’s sending the wrong signal to your mind and heart. Find a moment to connect inward. Making your bed is good but this is better.

33. Be yourself. Sounds simple, in today’s world it has become nearly impossible. We are all so deeply conditioned to follow the masses, the trends, the opinions of what others say is good or worthy. Every year I feel myself shedding layers and getting closer to who I really am, which is one of the greatest gifts of aging.

34. Have babies (if you want to/can). Motherhood didn’t just expand my understanding of love — it altered my experience of what it means to be alive. I deeply respect that this path is not for everyone, but if you’re on the fence because you think you’re not ready, I can just tell you now you never will be. No one ever is. Yes, they are a lot of work, expensive, and they do end your life as you currently know it but, in my experience, “worth it” doesn’t even come close to what’s waiting for you on the other side.

35. Eat your greens. If you struggle with this, my nonnegotiable is that I have a big green salad for lunch every weekday. I like to add two hard-boiled eggs and a good sprinkle of hemp seeds along with whatever other veg I might have on hand, beans (I like to make a batch of dried for the week which I also feed to my kids or use in a dinner) avocado or nuts, and a bit of cheese — usually feta, goat, or Parm. Sometimes I’ll make a small jar of vinaigrette for the week but more often I’m lazy and drizzle olive oil and vinegar right into the bowl. Don’t forget the salt — greens need seasoning, too!

36. Don’t buy from the sale unless you’d pay full price. Maybe it’s just me but I’ve been duped by a good sale too many times to count. In my wise old age I’ve learned that these items often end up in the donate pile much more quickly.

37. Plan your own party! Do you care about your birthday? Good for you! I’m not a fan of the “I hate my birthday” rhetoric. Celebrate yourself, life is short. Or whatever other life event that may be important to you. If you don’t think your friends are going to give you the hen’s party you dream of, or your partner will have a clue in how you’re envisioning your 50th… DIY, with no regrets.

38. You’re never too old to start that business/go back to school/travel/start a new hobby. This is it, your one wild and precious life. Don’t worry about what anyone thinks — and remember, they’re likely not thinking about you at all.

39. Decide you are ready for the right job/partner/situation. This often means letting go of the wrong job/partner/situation first. This happened to me with my husband, I was dating a bad egg before we met and I truly believe that I needed to leave that situation behind before the universe would present me with my golden one.

40. When all else fails, remember we’re just a tiny dot. This notion brings me peace no matter the circumstance. Exhale. We’re just flecks of stardust spinning on a planet with no idea why we’re here. (To love.) It’s about stepping outside of yourself into something greater.

x Sarah

I don’t know how I’ll feel in the future, of course. But I felt great about turning 40.

So great that, at three months postpartum, I forgot I hadn’t drank in basically over a year and got just a bit caught up in the excitement of being with my best friends on a yacht in Miami. In hindsight, the magnum bottles of rosé may not have been necessary. But oh, was it fun.

Now I’m about to turn 41, and I feel equally good about it. Even better that I won’t be reliving that hangover.

But something did come up for me the other day that surprised me.

I was doing a meditation and asked to envision my life ten years from now.

In ten years, I’ll be in my fifties.

This one hit different. I struggled to imagine it. Why did my fifties feel so much different than my forties?

It was the first time I’ve ever felt anything close to mortality.

Suddenly I felt this pressure.

Would I achieve all that I wanted to in this decade? What would my life look like, no longer as a mom to littles which feels so intertwined with my identity now, but as a mom to two teenagers?

At the heart of it:
What if I didn’t have it all figured out yet?

Then I think back ten years ago, when I had a completely different career. My family who is now my entire being had yet to exist.

I think of Martha Stewart, who famously didn’t publish the book that put her on the map until she was 49. Or Vera Wang, who started a new career in fashion at 40 after an entirely different career.

A lot can happen in ten years, and a lot will happen.

But what comes next?

This is where I find relief in the Pagan triple goddess concept of Maiden, Mother, Crone. The three distinct phases of a woman’s life.

I am in my Mother phase, to be sure. Though this isn’t limited to bearing physical children. For me this phase represents fertility and creativity in all aspects of life — art, career, etc. All that we are making and building, contributing to the world.

I think, okay. There is still so much for me here, to experience and embrace.

And then onto Crone. Here is the magic for me. This is why I’m not afraid of aging, at my core.

We’re conditioned to fear aging, to resist it all costs. But the Crone gives us something to look forward to in our elder years.

The Crone is the wise woman archetype. She has lived, witnessed, no longer needs to prove herself. She may still be creative, but her relationship to it shifts. Now she can slow down and live inside this world she has built.

And when I view it in this lens, I find I soften into the idea of aging. It feels like an exhale.

The being after the bloom.

🌼

As a person who appreciates things in neatly packaged numbers, wouldn’t 2025/2015 have made more sense?

Still, it’s compelled me to go back through my photo album and remember what happened that year.

Most notably it was the year I met my husband.

10 years together, and honestly we feel stronger than ever.

I was chatting with a friend the other day about whether she should have a second child. Could her marriage handle it, she wondered. I told her that I hated Jared significantly less this time around.

I kid, but if you’ve ever been postpartum, you know I’m partly serious.

The poor men, it’s not even their fault. It’s biological, us as the moms knowing and carrying everything and them just being clueless, no matter how they try.

Anyway, back to 2016.

Before I met Jared, I had been through a lot in my personal life. I had lost a great love of my life in a very tragic way. And in the years that followed I felt like a teenager again — lost, partying, doing whatever I could to separate from myself.

While I had some exciting things happening in my career, physically I was not at my best. I struggled with my weight, cystic acne. Yet he made me feel like the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even then.

I walked into his office in Flatiron in yoga pants and makeupless, I was on my way to a yoga class. I can’t remember the studio, these were the days of Classpass.

It was our first time meeting.

But this isn’t the story of how we met. I have another letter telling that story coming soon.

This is a story about where home began, for me.

It started with him. The foundation I never had. Maybe as women we don’t want to give that power away. But I’m not that kind of a feminist.

My childhood was less than stable. And while I had been in relationships before, I had felt happy before. This was different. This was the beginning of my own family.

It’s amazing what the physical body holds onto. In the months and years after we met, my body relaxed, exhaled. I may have a couple more wrinkles, but I feel more beautiful in my skin now than I did ten years ago.

As a person who adores home, who has translated my love of home into a career, I’ve thought a lot about why it feels so intrinsic to who I am.

It’s not too complex, to understand why.

Nevertheless I think it’s important and interesting to reflect on these things, the things that matter most to us, our passions and what makes us tick.

As a child I remember wanting a beautiful home more than anything.

My Aunt Sandy’s homes were my first love, my first exposure to beauty. Her home in Cincinnati, I thought, looked like the White House. Her kitchen walls swathed in ivy wallpaper, an elaborate milk glass collection in grand display.

Being from Florida I hadn’t ever seen a traditional Colonial like it, with a formal living room that no one used (I do plan to correct this in my own home one day) and a formal dining room alongside, rooms for pool tables and movie theaters and a basement housing a sprawling model train, even a miniature playroom built to a toddler’s height with Disney scenes painted on the walls.

Yet I adored most the sun room, decorated in the theme of sunflowers (the 90s, to be sure) and to me nothing felt more pleasurable, almost regal than to sit on one of those white wicker chairs, a glass of iced tea in hand.

That house represented something more than beauty, of course.

And now, ten years past 2016, I know what it was.

On the one hand, there is so much beauty and value in a season of rest.

And — I value coziness beyond most human pleasures.

Yet inevitably when we land in Florida during one of our winter breaks to visit my in-laws, my whole body exhales. This part of me feels that flip-flops are a religious experience, not the literal shoes (though I also enjoy) but the experience of them — EASE and lightness. The ability to have the skin exposed to air, to step outside and feel the sun on your skin without so much as having to slip on a sock.

Herein lies the paradox. It’s the dreaded bundling into layers that makes summer and spring feel so decadent. The yin and yang of life.

So while I hate it in moments (was just texting with a friend how I keep finding myself working in bed because my office is freezing! not ideal for my productivity/creativity/etc) I’ve also come around to not only an acceptance but an embracing of the winter.

After all I have chosen to reside in a place with seasons very purposefully. This most perfect reminder of the cycles of Mother Earth and life. We need to let some things die in the winter before we can renew, reinvent in spring. Slowing down, why it can feel so unnatural for us, I don’t know — but we must do it, and winter is here to remind us.

It all begins with the solstice and, of course, the holidays, a month of festive celebration that feels decidedly… less than restful.

We’re Jewish but we also celebrate Christmas secularly, and when the girls get a bit older I think I’ll start framing the celebration as more Yule-focused (the Pagan equivalent). One of the rituals I am most excited to do as a family is to create a Yule log, decorating with items in nature and then burning it together, discussing wishes for the year ahead. Another thing we’ve started to do is to use this time of year to go through our toys and decide what we’d like to donate to those in need. This year we made gingerbread men at Violet’s request, which was fun, I’d never done it before — curious to see which things like this will become favorites over time as the girls grow. I also made sticky toffee pudding for the first time for our Christmas Eve dinner, which was so good and felt like something that may ‘stick’ (lol) going forward.

As for Hanukkah, my favorite rituals are the classics: latkes and sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts). In the past Jared and I have done latkes with caviar and crème fraîche and champagne, that is something I’m excited to do again and likely host some gatherings around.

This year we had a simply perfect NYE that consisted of a fancy steakhouse dinner in Florida with just us and the girls, in matching sparkly dresses because I can’t be stopped. The restaurant had lots of festive hats and noisemakers which was perfect. Even though dinners with little ones can be a little hectic in moments (Dahlia was adamant about crawling the entire restaurant floor, greeting all of our neighbors) we mostly just sat there in awe, buzzed on love (martinis) and in a state of bliss, noting how much happier we were to have them there than to have, say hired a sitter and gone without them — and feeling so grateful for that alone. Then after we got home and put Dolly to bed, Jared cut up a bunch of paper for “confetti” and we did a bunch of faux countdowns with Violet, which she got a big kick out of. I think we were asleep by 930.

All this to say, I think we’ve all outgrown the idea that NYE needs to be some kind of extravagant ordeal. A house party is the ideal way to do it and I have a feeling we will (one day) be the family amongst our people who hosts.

Onto Valentine’s Day, I know some find it too commercial but I’ll never say no to a little ritual around love. Jared and I usually cook a nice meal together (steaks, oysters, caviar) at home. But now having little girls I feel my focus will shift to them. We’ll be flying to Florida this year on the actual day but in the past I’ve done heart-shaped pancakes for Violet, and I think in the future I will decorate the table with balloons or something fun as a surprise when they wake in the morning.

We have Imbolc on February 1st, another Pagan festival I enjoy. This one marks the halfway point between winter solstice and the spring equinox, celebrating the first stirrings of spring and return of the light. This brings to mind a first spark of creativity, a prequel to new beginnings ahead. A time for cleansing and resetting the home, lighting white candles, writing and vision boarding.

A primal need to declutter.

It seems this year more than ever there is a collective need to CLEAR. Have you noticed that? Beyond just my closet, I’m feeling a deep need to do this throughout my entire home. Over the past six months or so I’ve noticed that I have many things that do not feel like me anymore. I noticed this first in my serveware, starting with quite a few millennial pink ceramic pieces that are of good quality but, would I buy them again now? No I would not.

This brings me to a note I posted that seemed to resonate:

I think this takes the Marie Kondo theory a step further. Maybe because joy is more subjective, this feels much more definitive — you’d either buy it again or you wouldn’t. It just feels easy to answer, and fast.

It’s also helping me think about decluttering, which I think will ‘bring joy’ to my more minimalist husband. I’ve even reached a point where I’m starting to think about getting rid of more sentimental items. A masquerade mask from our Nola wedding that can’t find a proper place in our home, do we really need it? Will I regret getting rid of things like this? For these types of items maybe the ‘does it bring joy’ test is still most applicable. And honestly I think it brings me more joy to simply let it go if I’ve struggled to find a home for it.

The many kitchen rituals to enjoy.

For me there is a clear relation to January/February and baking all of the comforting, simple things like quick breads of banana or lemon poppyseed.

Did you know citrus is at its peak in the winter? A perfect time to preserve a jar of lemons, or to make lemon curd. One of my absolute favorite breakfasts that I used to serve in my catering days was ricotta pancakes with blood orange curd and lavender-infused maple syrup. It sounds more complex than it is, sure to impress and yes, there are a few steps but all manageable.

Another lovely weekend ritual is to buy a large bag of oranges (perfect Costco use case) and make freshly-squeezed orange juice — the littles can help, and the reward is sweet.

There are certain types of salads I crave to make right now, starting with a classic-ly chic French lentil salad. I’ve never perfected my own idea of this so that’s something I plan to do this winter.

All of the radicchio. I find this to be an elegant, sexy salad. Even better if you are in the city or have access to the special varieties of radicchio in shades of pink from blush to magenta. A vibrant and perfect partner for citrus, layer in all of the briny olives and salty cheeses. Perfect for a dinner party, a colorful encapsulation of winter’s bounty.

And of course, the essential winter braise. I’ve been enjoying making curries and basically anything best done in a Dutch oven. I’m off to start on a tagine of lamb now, to perfume the house as we watch the snow fall.

x Sarah

Now, for some crazy astro-context…

When I was pregnant with Dahlia, I had this feeling that I wanted to take a pause. Bigger than the obvious “maternity leave” pause, something internal was telling me to step away from work for a bit, to let things breathe within my business.

My astrologer, who I’ve now been doing readings with for nearly 20 years (!), gave me all the permission I needed and then some.

What she said was basically this: Everything is changing right now, evolving into something different. Not just for you, but for the world. For individuals, for businesses. On a mass level there is a new way of being and doing coming. A true paradigm shift.

As a person who always feels the need to be doing/creating I still had this nagging feeling like, but my business is so new! and I’ve had some momentum this year, wouldn’t it be crazy to just walk away now? Maybe I should just put out a tiiiny capsule collection…

Sure, she said. You could do that, but it’s not going to result in anything meaningful. If I were you I’d lean into the intuitive feeling you’re having, especially with a baby on the way.

Hmm.

Only now can I see how right she was.

Through stepping back and taking a break, I gained so much clarity. I recalibrated around my vision and saw how I hadn’t been creating what I truly wanted to create. Always easier to see in hindsight! I needed experience and time to gain the confidence to fully invest in what I wanted to do.

But beyond my own tiny experience, what feels so comforting and almost satisfying is to see it mirroring something bigger, a collective shift.

2025 was the Year of the Snake. A year of shedding, stillness, clearing. Introspection and transformation. Surely this was my experience — does it ring true for you?

And now here we all are, in the Year of the Horse.

The world is changing. And it’s not like we have it all figured out. But that’s not what the Horse is saying to me.

The Horse doesn’t need certainty.

No, this is an energy of inner power, strength, courage. Perseverance and self-trust. Forward momentum into the new and unknown — with beauty, grace, and wisdom.

And for me, a little reminder that we’re all connected, never alone.

x

And I don’t recommend getting through winter without it.

The essential winter braise. Call it beef stew, or a simplified take on beef bourguignon. It’s a bit of kitchen magic, really — and my favorite way to cook.

A transformation occurs as you take a humble and inexpensive cut of beef and turn it into something luxurious and dare I say, gorgeous.

A gorgeous beef stew. It’s a kitchen project but of the easiest kind. Sunday cooking, I like to call it. You can pour yourself a glass of wine as you sear the meat until it’s deeply browned and golden. This is where the first bit of magic happens, where the flavor begins.

Before you know it you’re placing it in the oven, now with a few precious hours to yourself. The oven doing the rest for you, quite literally. Soon enough your house will be perfumed in the most intoxicating scent…

I’ve used a boneless short rib here, which I feel elevates — but you could use chuck roast or go bone-in short ribs, which is just going to give even more flavor (you could withhold the stock as you’d essentially be making your own). The most important thing is to use a something tough and well-marbled, never lean or tender.

This version skews French, as I happened to have a nice Côtes du Rhône on hand, along with some mushrooms and parsnips for a purée. But you might also consider taking a gently Italian direction, using rosemary in place of the thyme, forgoing the mushrooms and serving it over a bed of creamy polenta. Mashed potatoes are a perfect partner, as would be any great loaf of bread.

Yes, it’s all adaptable and go-with-the-flow. An ideal dinner party dish, as it can be done completely in advance. I would serve this for a holiday dinner, 100%. Or just a slow and simple Sunday. A dish to celebrate the season, a bounty for cold, dark days.

Enjoy it on the solstice, enjoy it all winter long.

x Sarah

The Essential Winter Braise

A flexible, low-and-slow beef braise that rewards time more than effort. Built around boneless short ribs but easily adapted with other cuts, herbs, and accompaniments. Make it ahead — it only gets better.

Ingredients

• 3 pounds boneless short ribs (or other braising cut like chuck roast)

• Kosher salt and cracked black pepper

• Grapeseed oil

• 2 large shallots, chopped

• 2 carrots, diced

• 3–4 garlic cloves, minced

• 2 tablespoons tomato paste

• 1 cup red wine

• 2 cups beef stock (I keep bouillon on hand for this) or water

• A few sprigs fresh thyme

• 1 bay leaf

• 1 pound mushrooms, sliced

• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

• Optional but recommended: Something fresh and green for garnish (Italian parsley, chives, tarragon would even work here)

Instructions

Season the short ribs very generously with salt and a bit of black pepper. Add a bit of oil to a hot Dutch oven (I have a Le Creuset braiser which has sides a bit shorter but you could use a regular Dutch oven) and sear until deeply browned on all sides. Remove to a plate.

In the same pot, cook the shallots and carrots until softened. Add the garlic and tomato paste and cook briefly until the paste darkens.

Pour in the red wine and let it reduce by about half.

Return the short ribs to the pot and add stock or water to barely cover the meat. Add the thyme and bay leaf and bring to a simmer. Taste the liquid, adding salt if necessary. The liquid must be well-seasoned as this is what will create the flavor inside of the meat. However as it will reduce, you don’t want to go overboard.

Cover the pot and cook in a 300°F oven for about 2½ hours.

Meanwhile, sauté the mushrooms in butter and olive oil in a separate pan.

Add the mushrooms to the pot and return it to the oven uncovered for another 45–60 minutes, until the meat is very tender and the sauce has reduced and thickened. Remove the thyme and bay leaf before serving.

A few ideas for serving: a classic French pommes purée (essentially mashed potatoes using a potato ricer and a generous amount of butter and cream), parsnip purée (easy because you can use the Vitamix, simply cook parsnips with a potato or two in water until tender and blend with milk or cream and butter), a nice loaf of bread for dipping.

Serves 6.

It was late summer, what has become by far my favorite time of year up here. Just an hour’s drive out of the city we turned onto a dirt road that circled up, up, up. Trees growing up into a canopy of green over our heads, it was like an enchanted forest — I was entranced, looking for fairies.

It was 2020 and we’d been on a house hunt for months. Our Brooklyn abode, while large enough for city standards and even boasting the luxury of outdoor space, was something I could no longer tolerate.

We’d married on March 7th — for those good with dates, the last weekend before the world ended, and who could have predicted, yet we’d partied as if we knew (getting married in New Orleans will do that for you)!

No, the pandemic was hard for all, but those of us who lived in the city know what I’m talking about. Suddenly I craved more space, nature, it was a lifeline I was desperate for.

The market was a wreck at the time. We thought, maybe we’ll buy something in Westchester, maybe this is what we would have done anyway in a few (five?) years time, who knows?

Everything was grossly overpriced, and also just… gross? The rental market even worse. So imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this Zillow listing, for this gorgeous country property in a town called Garrison… hey, isn’t that where we rented that sweet Airbnb for the weekend some years ago?

Fully-furnished? And not absurdly overpriced? Too good to be true, must be.

And walking into this house, I just felt it immediately. I saw us here. I saw myself at that vintage six-burner Viking range, Jared lighting a fire in the next room. I saw our life unfolding, and I knew it would be ours.

Yet never could I have pictured just how rich our lives would become in this house.

I had been trying to get pregnant, as one does after their wedding, and found myself with child — my first cycle in.

It feels bittersweet even now to write about it, to think about it… because it has been so good to us, this house. And having now raised two babies here, I will forever feel attached to it. There is just so much magic here, and like all things it has its faults and flaws, but it really has been perfect for us over these last five years.

Five years! How it flies.

We always knew it wasn’t permanent, by its very nature of being a rental, after all. At that moment back in 2020, we knew nothing of where life would land. We knew only that we were escaping the city to the country for a bit, Jared not knowing when or if he’d need to be back in the city, it all just felt very TBD.

I’ll tell you now about this little town. Maybe you too are a city mouse who has always been curious about a move to the country? Here’s what I can share.

Well, country being an important distinction… I myself feel nearly allergic to the suburbs, I do apologize if that comes off as offensive, but let me follow it up with this: we may indeed, by my own choice (!) be making a move to what is at least a more suburban area in the near(-ish?) future. More on that in a bit.

If you’ve never heard of Garrison, it shares township with Cold Spring, which may be more familiar. Cold Spring has a little town and Main Street, with a lot of the quaint shops and feelings of a Hallmark movie. There’s lots of great hiking around, the autumns are devastatingly gorgeous, and most notably IMHO is that it’s just an hour from the city! If you’re not familiar with the city’s surrounding geography basically Westchester is a county with a lot of suburban towns just outside the city, and then if you keep driving just north of that, you’ll land in Garrison and then Cold Spring.

There’s not much going on here in Garrison, other than hidden homes and protected land. A place you might move to get away from it all. We did have one restaurant which has sadly closed for the winter which has left us feeling quite distraught — not to mention the name was Dolly’s (Dolly = nickname for my baby Dahlia, and this being the restaurant that fed us once a week through all these years and postpartums and babies’ first dinners out and I’m just sentimental about all of it).

I suppose this is both what I love and hate about living here: the seclusion. On the one hand living surrounded by acres of forest and nature is sublime. It’s been a dream to raise our two babies in the frequency of this land. And I stated earlier my aversion to the suburbs, I have learned that my requirements for a home and acreage can be summed up as follows: I can be naked outside in my yard if I wish, full stop. Not something I necessarily find myself doing but metaphorically, the option must exist.

And it’s the problem all the same. One restaurant — now none. It’s not enough. Boy I am lucky I like to cook, but even for me it’s just not enough. Now, there are a few restaurants in Cold Spring… but not really. In truth there is one restaurant I like and I’m currently a bit sour on them after they turned us away on a date night post-chamber concert at 9:19pm.

The little town in Cold Spring, while charming to be sure, leaves something to be desired. Most of the purveyors just don’t have the same taste level as those in other Hudson Valley towns like Hudson or Kingston. I feel guilty saying it, I don’t like to speak unkindly or negatively when not necessary but it’s just been my experience if I’m being honest. (Except here I must shout out two exceptions to that rule, my lovely friend Judiann’s fabulous vintage shop DamnAged and lovely Eliza’s most perfect wine shop, Flowercup!)

We don’t have a great grocery store situation (a very mediocre and oddly overpriced Foodtown) but we do have a wonderful butcher and fishmonger, only problem for me is that these are both about 22 minutes away which isn’t horrible but also, especially with children (including a baby who one year in still screams for approximately 80% of every car ride) in tow, is less than ideal.

But the children, my baby girls — this is the other positively fruitful part about living here, what it’s meant for them. We were so lucky to have the most extraordinary Montessori school for Violet, and now it’s part of the reason I think it might not be so bad to stay a little while longer, for Dahlia is set (somehow!? I truly can’t understand how) to attend next fall.

And Violet is now at a lovely (stone!) public school that feels private due to the size and care (the warmest, most loving people!) — she is thriving! And going back to the Hallmark vibes, it really is the cutest community with the cutest little community events, a place where your kid can run around and get a lost for a moment and you’re not even worried.

(I haven’t actually lost my children but did literally witness my friend’s husband lose one at a summer event last year, she was discovered rather quickly and we all joked through crooked smiles that if we were to lose a child this would be the place to do it — I never told the mom, would you have??)

My husband feels the seclusion problem more deeply than I do, mostly because as a mom it has been easier for me to make friends and doubly hastened by the fact that he is a bit of a workaholic so naturally doesn’t have as much time to devote to being social.

But largely I would say that the issue is also the result of the smallness of this place. I googled our population out of curiosity the other day and discovered the combined total for Garrison and Cold Spring to be around 6k, and for comparison’s sake I’ll give you the population for the area we’re planning to move which is also small in my mind but nevertheless clocking in at 23k. That’s a lot more folks.

So we’ll be taking our talents back down to Westchester, it looks like at least, for nothing can ever be certain, but that is the plan. And it’s excited me endlessly, simply having a plan, to feel we belong somewhere, because for years nothing seemed to feel right.

And the odd thing is I’ve had this same conversation with others in our age group, all looking for something, a perfect fit for their family, and not really feeling it. The even odder thing is that the place we’re looking at now is the same one we considered at the beginning, and not much about it has changed in between all this time — so why does it feel right now?

Timing. The great mystery. We grow and evolve and gradually, things fall into form.

It’s not a big secret, so I don’t mean to make it seem as such: “the place” is the Bedford/Pound Ridge area, and let me explain now what I love about it: it is similar to where we are now, in all the ways that I love… you can live on a big plot of land, surrounded by nature, with privacy. Maybe just a bit more manicured, in a good way. It still feels like a quaint, small town and yet there are a few more restaurants… more things to do with the girls, more options for dance classes and the like… a Whole Foods! And perhaps most importantly, it’s looking like my sister-in-law and her family will be moving to a neighboring town (each of our two children 5 days and 3 weeks apart, respectively).

We considered Westport/Weston for a bit, but that began to feel like just a bit too much for me. (I’m getting the vision of the three bears here, Garrison being too small, Westport being too big, and Bedford feeling juuuuust right.) My husband grew up in Roslyn, which some may describe as intense, and we didn’t really want that. You know everyone says you can find your people anywhere, and I know this is true, but I also think there is a general energy of a place, and that one just didn’t feel like us.

Yes, we’re all looking for that perfect fit, and maybe that’s the problem? If I had to design my most perfect place, maybe… Laurel Canyon? Well, maybe that’s the closest, but then there are still problems with it. My husband loves Santa Monica but see we don’t want to move to the other coast, away from his family. Without parents of my own I don’t feel this same pull but of course I want to remain near to them, for the girls and they are my family now, too. And then there are the fires, and just the general indescribable difference between east coast and west coast personality.

Nothing can be entirely perfect, so you have to hone in on the things that feel most important to you.

People have asked, of course, would we ever move back to the city? I would have preferred the city for the newborn phase (don’t recommend this in a secluded home at the top of a mountain) but that’s about it. Now I appreciate our visits and even more, I appreciate our returns home. I also feel we’d need to be in an outlandish income bracket to make it feel enjoyable, and even then I’m not sure I’d want my kids growing up that way.

And now that I’m writing this all out, you know what it is? It’s wholesomeness. That’s what I crave for my family. That’s why we’d never move to Florida (though we surely thought of it, in fact I may be thinking of it this very moment 🥶) and that’s why the city, while it has much to offer, doesn’t feel like us. I crave a wholesome life for them, for us, one where we have a big yard and a garden and yes, one we can tend to naked if we feel like it.

Seasons! A major reason to stay in the northeast, and to stay near the city also feels right — to have access to the capital of culture and the arts, just an hour’s drive away. Nothing is perfect, but this feels pretty close, to me.

More than anything, I crave my forever home… my forever kitchen — oh, it will be grand — the center of our home in every way. Zillow isn’t giving me much these days, but I stay, ha! let’s just call it, very attuned.

Sometimes we wonder, would we ever build a home? Anything’s possible. For now, I feel lucky to simply know what I want, to be here now, in this beautiful 100-year-old house that may not be mine, and surely doesn’t have as much kitchen space as I’d like — but it does offer us this precious luxury, to be able to wait, for our own forever home. And while nothing is perfect, I know this one will be perfect for us.

One day.

x Sarah

This will be my attempt at a shorter letter this week, a bit more off the cuff.

I am in bed at my in-laws’ apartment in the city on Sunday morning. My husband and I have a system on the weekends that consists of me waking with the girls Saturday, and then I get the morning off on Sundays, an organic result of his “daddy-daughter days” with Violet that have been going on since babyhood.

I am naturally a morning person, so it’s not like I am sleeping in per se, but I do get to enjoy my coffee in bed, meditate, journal, and now that I’m writing here again — a small love note to you.

These weekends in the city have been a lifeline for us living in the country. I’ve started writing about that the other day, as we’re now five years in… the brief take being that we do love it, living in nature medicinal and sublime, but not without the benefit of being just an hour’s drive back to the city — and the utmost perk of having this apartment as own little pied-à-terre while my in-laws reside elsewhere for much of the year.

This weekend was a last-minute trip as I wanted to see the Joan Mitchell exhibit at David Zwirner, and oh my the luck that I also had my hair appointment booked for Friday, so I actually got to go out with my hair done!

The women know, we all want to go out the night we get our hair done. And rarely does it happen for me, for we don’t go out much, but on this occasion we were so lucky to scoop a tasting menu reservation, one where they wrote ‘congratulations’ on our dessert course, accompanied by a well-paired madeira (I do turn into a bit of a lush for dessert wine) — the congratulations well in order for, simply, a night out without children.

I feel that December has been thrown off with Thanksgiving falling so late this year. I received our first holiday card in the mail last week and honestly hadn’t so much as thought of doing ours. (I do habitually leave it for late, as we’re Jewish and send a ‘new year’ card, I am privy to that luxury.)

I had planned to do a holiday party this year, but that idea was fading into the distance.

Well, that’s not the whole story, which moreso related to my husband being largely against it — not because he’s a scrooge (he is actually quite a gem in this department, thrilled by what thrills me and even cleaning it all up with a smile on his face) but this time his response was a clear no. I know I could have pushed but honestly I didn’t have it in me.

I had been thinking of it since I wrote of it here, the idea of feral children running around my home, oh and I had just been to a birthday party to remind me, I just don’t think this is the right age for it… The idea in my mind to sip champagne with our little ones dressed in their holiday best, well-behaved at our sides, or perhaps neatly engaged in a planned craft nearby, this elegant picture was just not going to match what would have been.

Then I was watching some Christmas movie on Netflix that Violet has grown quite fond of (lol), there is a part where something is amiss with their turkey and the mother is exclaiming, we can’t have Christmas without turkey! And Violet’s like, but we don’t have turkey on Christmas! And I said, well, yes some families do… we have Chinese actually, though I do like to enjoy and will in future years a decadent prime rib dinner on Christmas eve.

And I thought of the prime rib I made back in Brooklyn, and I yearned for it. And then I reminded myself, we have a whole lifetime in front of us, one day our girls will be teenagers and they will feel so lucky to indulge in my grand prime rib, but that time is not now.

So it is with the holiday party, we have many years ahead to enjoy things like this, sometimes I think we have ideas in mind for these rituals around the holidays and otherwise, and maybe it’s best to just lean into the current chapter rather than trying to force one we’re just not in.

You know, like right now our era is handmade ornaments made at school, not:

But maybe one day?

For now, I am soaking in the sight of construction paper-wreaths and snowmen.

This is where we are. I’m leaning in. There’s much to love. And one day, I can feel it already, we’ll yearn to be back here.

To being here now,
x Sarah

But that ease does not come without effort. And as any good host knows, Joan Didion did too.

Perhaps you’ve seen the images of Didion’s kitchen that have circulated the internet, so you may have had a suspicion she can cook.

But likely we weren’t aware that she also prepared and served elaborate Thanksgiving dinners for 75 guests in her home.

It was such a treat to discover this piece in the New York Times. And it made sense to me, that she approached cooking and hosting with the same methodology as her writing: privately with rigorous and detailed planning, for an externally weightless result.

Serendipitously I had been planning to write something on this same very topic this week: What actually matters when hosting? Too many articles have been written on the topic, and most of them containing the same rote advice: make things that can be done ahead of time, clean up your home (!), light a candle in the bathroom.

These points are essential but obvious, and in truth they’re not what actually makes for a memorable dinner party.

And while it’s also true that the host should be relaxed, how exactly does one accomplish that?

The answer is, as Joan Didion knew, in deep preparation. What looks effortless is never without design. We prepare in advance with tremendous thought and attention to detail so that when our guests arrive, we can let our hair down, pour ourselves a glass of Crémant and enjoy the fruits of our labor.

“She typed up dozens of menus and guest lists, noting who declined, who arrived at what time, how many ate or did not, and how much food was left over. She drafted instructions for a few hired helpers — and herself — detailing the timing and placement of each course, which forks to use and which plates couldn’t go in the dishwasher.”

And while this may seem like a writer’s habit, from my catering days I can tell you that one of the best things you can do is to keep copious notes of your cooking — the number of people you served, how much you made, etc. This helps over time for you to better understand how much meat to buy for 6 (the trick is usually 1/4 lb per person, but it always matters what else you may be serving in addition, and the notes help you build confidence in all things over time).

The next (related) piece is experience. I learned to cook and host well because I did it over and over again, and Didion did this too.

Her Thanksgiving menus were nearly identical spanning decades: “Roast turkey breast with gravy and dirty-rice dressing. Cranberry sauce and relish. Artichoke hearts in béchamel, gratinéed yams and in lieu of mashed potatoes, a vegetable purée of beet, turnip or celery root. A salad with oranges, and tarts of apple, pecan and pumpkin.”

Yet she also had help, both in human form (hired servers) and store-bought ingredients for the occasional convenience (frozen artichokes and canned sweet potatoes; we will forgive her for the latter, keeping in mind her era).

“Store-bought is fine!” we may be hearing the voice of Ina Garten right about now. But allow me to take it a step further and say: know when to buy the shortcut. A multi-course dinner for ten is not the moment to trim raw artichokes for a béchamel — save that kind of labor for a platter of steamed with salted butter next spring.

The final and arguably most essential key to being a great host is to love doing it.

While Didion’s writing and persona may have been seen as cool and detached, she was surprisingly sentimental about holidays and domesticity. She wrote about the ritual of making gumbo with reverence. She seemed to deeply enjoy the act of cooking, as a meditation and act of love.

And that, I believe, is what bleeds through to our guests’ experience the most.

Always with love,

x Sarah

I very much value a festive moment but I also get that hosting this time of year can feel overwhelming, especially when you’re (I’m) expending most of your energy on keeping two tiny roommates alive.

But oh, how I love a good holiday party! We started an annual tradition back in our Brooklyn days. It was infamous fun! Sparkly dresses, unhinged white elephant gift exchange, overpouring champagne. I’d make fancy holiday apps and the one constant: there was always a ham.

Since moving to the country we’ve done very abbreviated versions of this party (like the time we invited just one couple but still served an entire ham, which I don’t not recommend) but I think this year I’m ready to scale things up a bit.

the friendsgiving-ish potluck

But before we get there, let’s start with Thanksgiving since it’s almost here.

To be honest I’m not sure how I feel about doing a second Thanksgiving-style Friendsgiving. That’s always felt a bit much.

I don’t want to eat Thanksgiving dinner twice and not because I don’t love it but moreso because I do and I don’t want to dishonor it by creating a second lesser version.

I do, however, enjoy the concept of a potluck dinner party in the same spirit of gathering and togetherness with friends-who-are-like-family.

So: a potluck, but make it simple and personal:

• Have everyone bring a dish to represent their family

• It could be related to their heritage, or just the thing they make on repeat at home

• Let it be loose and wild but do try and make sure at least someone is bringing dessert

We all need more kid-friendly ideas and I like the intimacy of it, a little peek into the way we eat and live.

While I would typically abhor the idea of a potluck that feels not-curated and all over the place, in this instance I find it charming.

Someone do this and report back. My November is already spoken for with Dahlia’s birthday.

the cookie party

Another party I used to host way back in my Florida days was a cookie exchange. (Erika, are you reading?)

We would do it up the old-school way where everyone made a batch of 6 or 7 dozen of their favorite holiday cookies and then everyone split up the cookies to take home to give away as gifts, enjoy with their families, etc. This was a girls-only event and partially (mostly) an excuse to dress up and drink too much.

I also hosted a very involved cookie decorating party one year back in the city (Salt House days!). Loads of curated sprinkles, tiny dried edible flowers — it was extravagant.

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This party is sort of a simplified combination of the two.

I’m imagining a cozy afternoon with friends and their little ones, part cookie exchange and part [light] cookie decorating. I don’t recommend doing the full-scale royal icing decorating unless you’re in the mood for a big project.

the basics:

• Each household brings their favorite holiday cookies (any amount is fine)

• Make a pot of tea + something warm/spiked for adults (mulled wine, cider, etc.)

• Put out some sugar cookies, frosting + sprinkles on a kids’ table and let them go wild

I’d probably still get some boxes so people can take some favorites home.

the open house

Here’s where I’m landing for our revised annual holiday party, kid-friendly edition.

An easy, breezy, festive afternoon into very early evening. I’m thinking 3pm to around 6/7pm. Festive attire, holiday music, plenty of food to graze on — and the kids are fed without trying before everyone has to head home for bedtime routines.

First off, by simply calling it an open house, you are communicating the relaxed nature of the party. Takes the pressure off you and everyone else! The ham is the star and keeps things easy. From there it’s totally up to you how involved you want to get with other dishes, and you can definitely allow friends who ask to bring things if you’d like.

what to serve:

• A ham (sliced with assorted mustards / slider buns)

• A cheese board or two

• Shrimp cocktail (pre-made by your fishmonger if you’re lucky)

• A few bowls of pretty snacks (nuts, olives, clementines)

• Something sparkling to drink

• A plate of cookies/holiday bark/something sweet

Of course, this can all be gently elevated if you’re in the mood. If you’ve got a punch bowl, a festive sparking punch does well here (try a frozen pomegranate ice ring using a bundt pan).

And for the kids, I’m thinking of a mini book swap gift exchange:

• Each child brings one wrapped book

• Pile them into a basket or corner of the room

• Everyone takes one home

Hope you enjoy these ideas! None requiring new serving dishes, babysitters, or unnecessary stress.

Wishing you a season filled with love and overflowing Crémant,

x Sarah

But that’s how life goes, so often we don’t see the most obvious answer that is right in front of us.

As a deeply-almost-to-my-detriment creative person, I haven’t always been good at sitting still — but now that my baby is about to turn one (!!), the timing seems to have drifted into place just so.

And yet I will still be taking things slowly, because I am savoring these moments with my baby girls. Violet has fully absorbed the word cherish into her vocabulary, because it’s one I say to her so often. A love so deep it can feel like grief, for each day passing, it can all feel so fleeting even while remaining so present. Like you can’t be present enough, it will never be enough!

My sister-in-law went so far as to accuse me of having baby fever, and she’s not wrong. I’m not sure what it is, if it’s just the ease of doing this the second time around or the pure magic that is Dahlia (probably a little of both) but honestly if I wasn’t 40 and still not yet feeling recovered from my emergency c-section I think I’d go for another baby right now. Even my husband feels this way, which is shocking.

Alas instead we’ll be here, getting ready for Dolly-baby’s first birthday, a quiet little gathering at home with just family and friends who are family. It’s funny how different it feels from the bashes of the summer that we’ve always done with Violet, but is that just the nature of having a Scorpio baby? I almost felt guilty about it at first, but now I’m leaning into the intimacy and the idea of getting to just focus on her.

I’ve decided to make my pumpkin-olive oil cake, but I think I will instead do a naked layer cake — a baby smash version for her and a bigger one for us.

And then onto Thanksgiving! My MIL is hosting in the city, and so I’ll probably bring stuffing (my nonnegotiable) and a dessert, maybe a pumpkin pie, which I’ve had an even more special affinity after craving and eating so much of it postpartum last year.

Dahlia brings new meaning to my love for this month, the heart of fall, the month of home! — the official season of hosting and gathering, weekend mornings by the fire, a time to celebrate simply being together.

From my happy place,
Sarah

vintage textile study

An ongoing study of pattern, color, and beauty of textiles.

I’ve always adored blue and brown together, and this faded turquoise offers an unexpected update on that classic combination. The trailing roses are classically romantic but against the deep chocolate brown the effect feels modern and almost haunting.

I loved this pattern so much I used a version of it on our website, which is currently on hold as we prepare for our next chapter. In the meantime, don’t miss our archive sale, offering major markdowns on remaining pieces — your chance to collect one of our first hand-printed textiles before they’re gone.

the november ritual

Going deeper with a gratitude practice.

When I first tried gratitude journaling years ago, I found it helpful but also that it could feel redundant quickly. Writing down ten things you’re grateful for each day is a good practice in theory, but over the years I’ve found a few ways to make it feel deeper and more powerful.

1. Think both past and present. Sometimes if we think only in the present moment, it can get a bit repetitive. Let your mind wander a bit to people who have affected you, struggles you’ve grown through, and experiences that have shaped you over the years.

2. Why are you grateful for it? Take each item on your list a layer deeper. Expand on it. Believe me, I want to write that I’m grateful for my babies every single day. But what is it that they do, how is it that they make you feel?

3. This one can feel challenging but so powerful — think of a difficult person or situation you’re dealing with in your life and find a reason to be grateful for it. What is it teaching you? If someone is frustrating you, can you think of other qualities or goodness they bring into your life or the world?

4. Try extending your gratitude outward, beyond the surface of what you’re thankful for. If it’s a delicious meal, think of the hands that prepared it, the farmers who grew the ingredients, the server who brought it to you with kindness. For a material object, think of the people and processes that made it possible. Let your gratitude ripple outward to them, too.

5. Close your eyes and say thank you in your mind and heart, feeling as deeply into the emotion as you can as you write your list.

Try making a list of ten things each day this month using these adjustments, and I promise you’ll feel a shift. Do it first thing in the morning, then re-read your list each evening, taking a moment to really feel into each one before bed. It’s no big deal to miss a day, but the more you do it, the more you’ll feel the effects. I’ll admit I tend to have a glass-half-full mentality naturally, but when I do this consistently, I feel damn near ecstatic.

a few good links

A basket of inspiration gathered for the season.

🟤 Highland Harvest — a cookbook that feels like it’s from the setting of Outlander. Will be reading this like a novel in bed.
🟤 Glow Drops — I don’t wear foundation for everyday, but here’s what I do instead for a healthy glow: a couple of these drops mixed with my face oil. They do not smell or look anything like self-tanner, very important!
🟤 Sheet Pan Pumpkin Pancakes — a genius fall breakfast for hosting guests (and ideal for Thanksgiving morning). I use half whole-wheat flour and sub maple syrup for the refined sugar.
🟤 Beaded Rim Platter — if I were hosting Thanksgiving, I’d treat myself to this platter for the turkey. That’s how I like to build my collection, over time — one special piece per holiday or more elaborate dinner party, almost like a gift for all the hard work!
🟤 Vintage Silver Coupes — I’d serve red-wine-poached pears with crème anglaise in these for a perfectly chic fall dessert. More options here.
🟤 Herringbone Coat — it’s been a while since I’ve invested in a new coat, and this one feels perfect. I love the shape, and the herringbone reads neutral but with interest. Hoping for a size restock soon!
🟤 Clara Bubble — the sweetest dahlia-printed bubble for Dahlia’s birthday (with matching dress for Violet).
🟤 Orange by Caroline Shaw — gorgeous background music for cooking, sketching, and lazing about by the fire.
🟤 Autumn by Louise Glück — a favorite poem that, for me, captures the spiritual meaning of the season.

on the horizon

A few ideas for what’s to come.

As we enter hosting and entertaining season, I have a few ideas that may be of interest, starting with all of my favorite places and pieces for creating a complete tabletop collection, i.e. all of the things you need to serve beautiful meals, and where to get them. Next, everything I’ve learned in my past life hosting and creating dinner parties for a living. Or, a deeper look into my journey of how exactly I got to that career, from the TV show to the fashion world dinner parties. And lastly, a compilation of tips and ideas for those looking to learn how to cook, and/or to enjoy it more — I do find they go hand in hand.

Happy to entertain other requests! Simply reply to this email to share.

tarot card pull

A collective card pull to guide us through the month.

Six of Swords is a card of transition — which feels right on time, now that eclipse season has passed and things are starting to settle a bit. The mood is calm after the storm; that space that still feels a little tender, but lighter.

This isn’t about rushing to reinvent yourself. It’s about letting the dust clear, maybe making a few changes that help you feel more like yourself again. Rearrange a corner, take that dance class, say no to something (or someone) that’s no longer aligned.

You’ve already done the hard part. Now it’s about wading gently into what’s next — not by force, but letting the next chapter slowly come into focus.

A friend and I would pick one of our respective apartments in Williamsburg to convene at for a quiet evening at home. We’d pour kombucha in our sleekest wine glasses, light a candle, and lay out the cards.

These were the days before husbands and babies, and we had questions. Where were things heading with the new guy she was dating? What was my next career move?

Neither of us were actual tarot card readers, naturally. And this is probably one of tarot’s greatest misconceptions, that you must be trained or ordained in some way to be able to read cards.

Surely there are some who’ve studied tarot for decades, who know each card inside and out and interpret seven-card spreads artfully, all from memory — but the real beauty of tarot is that anyone can do it.

These days I find myself pulling cards in a more integrated way — less like an occasion and more like a gentle check-in. I’ll simply pull a card if I find myself looking for direction in some way, whether navigating a transition or wanting to go deeper with something that’s been on my mind.

And I still love a good witchy night, of course — always will. This might look like a dinner party with girlfriends for the equinox, or pulling a card for myself on a full or new moon. Often for these kinds of pulls I don’t have a specific question in mind. It’s more like opening a line to the universe to say, what do you want me to know?

where to begin

All you need to begin is a tarot deck. Some come with little reference booklets to help you interpret the cards, but this isn’t essential. I usually end up looking up meanings online — sometimes through a quick search, sometimes with the help of ChatGPT (which I’ll get into below).

If you don’t already own a deck, the Rider–Waite Tarot Deck is a great place to start — the OG of tarot, if you will. But it can also be nice to buy a deck in person if you have a local bookstore or spiritual shop nearby. It’s a bit like crystal shopping, let yourself be drawn to the one that speaks to you.

Of course, there are countless beautiful options online. One of my favorite things about tarot cards is the artwork itself — the symbolism, the illustrations, the energy each deck carries. I recently bought a deck designed by one of my favorite jewelry designers, Pamela Love, and it’s lovely.

Now — time to pull a card. What does that actually mean? Well, you can do it however you like. You can cut the deck and pull one there, or spread them out in a line and draw a card at random (which is how I most often do it).

Sometimes, as you shuffle, a card will quite literally jump out of the deck — tarot readers call these ‘jumpers’. I tend to treat this as a pull but you can also take note of the card and decide from there.

Make the ritual as simple or elaborate as you want. At minimum, take a breath and ground yourself before beginning. I like to close my eyes and shuffle the cards for a minute or two, allowing my energy to interconnect with the cards before I pull.

One question people often have at first is about whether the card is facing up or down. It’s true that reversed cards can carry different meanings, but for beginners it’s perfectly fine to read only the upright interpretation.

Personally, I do take note of the orientation but you can also look up both meanings if you’re unsure — it’s typically easy to see which one resonates more in that moment.

If your deck came with a guidebook, start there. Then, if you want to go deeper, look up other interpretations — sometimes one writer’s take will click more than another’s. Over time you will slowly begin to get to know the cards and their symbolism.

Journaling is a lovely (arguably necessary) companion to a tarot reading. Don’t overthink it; just start writing and see what comes up.

Or, try using ChatGPT alongside your readings to create a more personal interpretation. You can describe what’s going on in your life and ask for help exploring how the card’s symbolism might apply to your situation.

You might be curious about pulling more than one card. You can absolutely do that — though I tend to keep it simple. Occasionally I’ll pull a second card for clarity, or do a three-card spread with a friend to look at past, present, future. But for the most part, I stick with single pulls.

Often I’ll leave that card sitting on my desk for a while — for however long feels right, usually until I feel called to pull a new one. A small totem to guide me, to help me remember the energy I’m claiming as I move through my days.

However you choose to interpret it, take a moment to look at the image for yourself. Every card is like a painting, and you are free to interpret what you see in it.

It’s honestly wild how spot on most pulls feel. “You can’t make this stuff up!” is a line I’ve shrieked in near disbelief more times than I can count.

And this is what I love about tarot: it’s not about fortune-telling or predicting the future — it’s a tool for tuning in, for self-discovery, seeing yourself and your path from a slightly different angle… with just a little nudge from the universe to help guide you along.

It’s the most practical type of magic I know.

Your good witch,

x Sarah

A new favorite, to be sure. I am even considering making it for Dahlia’s first birthday. It’s just a perfectly balanced cake, IMO — not too sweet, incredibly moist thanks to the pumpkin and yogurt, while the olive oil imparts an elegance that would make it an ideal dinner party dessert. And children love it equally, this I can confirm.

Chic enough for a dinner party, simple enough for a Sunday afternoon. I think if I ever write a cookbook, this is the concept.

For the frosting I happened to have a block of cream cheese in the fridge, along with some heavy cream, so I went with a whipped cream cheese frosting enhanced with cinnamon and maple syrup. Maybe next time I would use mascarpone, though really the only change of significance is that I’d make more.

The recipe is based off of my olive oil cake, another favorite I’ve been making for years and years, since my catering days. It’s the easiest cake in the world, mixed in one bowl with only a humble whisk, and yet one that made regular appearances at dinners for some of my most impressive and discerning clients.

I hope you will make it and enjoy it as much as we have.

Pumpkin Olive Oil Cake with Whipped Maple–Cinnamon Cream Cheese Frosting

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda

• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

• 2 teaspoons cinnamon

• 1 teaspoon ground ginger

• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

• 1/4 teaspoon cloves or allspice

• 3/4 cup light brown sugar

• 1/4 cup granulated sugar

• 3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

• 1/2 cup whole-milk yogurt or sour cream

• 3 large eggs, room temperature

• 1 (15-ounce) can pumpkin puree

• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch cake pan and line with parchment or spray with baking spray.

In a large bowl whisk together brown sugar, granulated sugar, olive oil, yogurt, eggs, pumpkin, and vanilla until smooth. Add dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and spices) and whisk until just combined.

Pour into prepared pan, smoothing the top. Bake 45 to 55 minutes, until golden and a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Cool completely before frosting.

Whipped Maple–Cinnamon Cream Cheese Frosting

• 8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature

• 1/3 cup pure maple syrup

• 1/2 cup cold heavy cream

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

• 1/2 to 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Beat cream cheese using whisk attachment until smooth. Add maple syrup, vanilla, and cinnamon and beat until combined. Drizzle in heavy cream and beat on medium-high speed until thick and billowy. Chill for 10 to 15 minutes before spreading.

To frost, dollop all of the frosting in the center of the cooled cake and use an offset spatula or the back of a spoon to swoop it outward in soft curves.

I am a season-phile through and through, and while it feels hard to commit to choosing one as a favorite, it would have to be fall, no? Anne of Green Gables put it best when she said, “I’m so glad to live in a world where there are Octobers.”

Interestingly while we may associate fall with slowing down, this October is not giving slow. Astrologically that’s not the vibe, it seems for everyone the mood is more centered around taking action and getting things done.

I’m looking forward to Sukkot this week — the real question is, will Jared actually build us a sukkah? I may let him off the hook since he’s been so stacked with work, plus I discovered an event for the littles at a temple in Beacon I’ve been meaning to try. And next year baby D will be able to enjoy it more.

In the meantime I’m ready for crisp air and sweater weather, for cozy weekends by the fire.

Wishing you all an enchanted month full of beauty and wonder,

x Sarah

mood of the month

enchantment

I’ve always loved the idea of having a word to return to, like a mantra for the season. And truth be told enchantment is more than just my word for now. It’s a feeling I chase year-round and one I think of most for the way I want to feel in my home.

Enchantment: “A feeling of great pleasure and attraction, especially because something is very beautiful; delight.” And then, of course, there is the magic element.

For me enchantment perfectly encapsulates the idea of not only being surrounded by beauty but appreciating it in the deepest way, and allowing it create a sense of magic in the everyday.

Perhaps this month you can choose a word, either borrowing mine or finding another that suits you and the way you’d like to feel. As you move through your days, deciding what to cook or wear or see and feel in your everyday life, think of this word and allow it to guide you.

Often it can be found in the smallest moments… a song on repeat, or a few cuttings from your yard gathered into a vase, a recipe you choose to make for your family, or the way you feel when you put your robe on in the morning.

vintage textile study

An ongoing study of pattern, color, and beauty of textiles.

Vintage textiles will always be one of my greatest sources of inspiration, so I love collecting them. This one called to me as a selection to focus on this month. The palette is restrained and traditional yet it feels fresh to me. I love the asymmetry and movement of the broken vines. It’s a floral that has a certain moodiness to me. I would love to see this on a blanket, or upholstered on a sofa, pillows and wallpaper.

the october ritual

A small and simple ritual, from my home to yours.

We have a little coffee shop on our Main Street that makes the best salted maple lattes — and the other day I thought, why not make this at home? It’s very simple to do, all you need is good maple syrup and sea salt, along with your milk of choice and espresso.

This is an afternoon ritual for me, when I often crave something sweet and with a bit more body than tea. I use a Nespresso machine for my espresso and milk frother for my oat milk, which is my preferred milk for this drink. (For those who are curious I drink one cup of very strong coffee with whole milk in the morning.)

I then add maple syrup and Maldon to taste and give it a stir. So simple and delicious — and tastes even better in your favorite mug.

in the kitchen

Seasonal flavors and ideas for what to cook.

This is the season of apples and pears, winter squash, root veg, brassicas like brussels sprouts and broccoli — and all of the jewel-toned fruit like lush figs, grapes, pomegranates, cranberries.

A few things I’m looking forward to cooking: roast chicken in a pot with orzo (a recipe from Nigella or Ina both similar to mine; let me know if you’d like me to share sometime) for a Sunday night dinner, pumpkin baked donuts or apple cider baked donuts? can’t decide, this lamb meatball recipe with raisins and pine nuts looks good for an elevated weeknight dinner, as well as roast sausages over a ricotta-enriched baked polenta paired with roasted veg or greens from the farmers’ market for a simple yet comforting go-to.

Oh and an update on the cinnamon-sugar apple cake — I made it again for Yom Kippur with olive oil and can confirm I much prefer the browned butter version.

small wonders

A basket of inspiration gathered for the season.

🟤 I made this lightly witchy playlist for our Equinox dinner party rather quickly so I’m looking forward to refining it this month.

🟤 This lovely floral jacquard blanket I stumbled on at Zara Home might make for an ideal first layer of fall in your home. (Or a simple check version if that’s more your thing.)

🟤 Apparently Medieval influence is having a moment in the design world (shared here by one of my favorite creative minds) and I am very much here for it. Positively mesmerized by this chainmail lamp and other otherworldly creations by Wretched Flowers.

🟤 Create a full moon ritual with your littles with a Full Moon Fairy subscription. Each full moon you receive a book along with an age-appropriate trinket for each of the girls. V and I have been loving reading the book on the evening of the full moon, and then the girls get to discover what the fairy left them in the morning.

🟤 When it comes to Halloween decor, we’re partial to spiderwebs, bats, and spiders throughout the house. These iron moths offer a lightly elevated take, and these wicker bats are also very cute.

🟤 If you loved The Gilded Age and want another lush historical escape, I’m currently loving the Outlander prequel, Blood of My Blood. Start with Outlander if you haven’t seen it — or better yet, Downton Abbey, the true foundation of the period-drama universe.

🟤 It’s sweater season, and during these shoulder months I always enjoy cotton sweaters — La Ligne’s Mini Marina Sweaters are my favorite for their perfect shrunken shape and crop.

🟤 I don’t love wearing nail polish on my fingernails until September hits, and then it’s vamp season until spring. Chanel’s Rouge Noir is my go-to.

🟤 For fall rains and muddy walks, I finally caved and got my Le Chameau wellies. I went with the darker green and lined version, figuring I can always get another pair by the time I have my dream summer garden, one day ;)

🟤 I just finished and loved Into the Magic Shop by James Doty, an inspiring true story that reveals how manifestation really works when led by the heart.

tarot card pull

A collective card pull to guide us through the month.

A truly perfect pull for this month, the Eight of Cups symbolizes letting go of something that no longer serves you. I love how this pairs with the leaves falling from the trees, making space for introspection and what will become new growth in the months to come. You can see the figure walking away from something, and the sun and moon represent what he’s walking toward, learning to trust his own intuition and path.

🌗 WHAT’S INSIDE THIS DINNER

• A few hosting tips that make a seasonal dinner feel effortless but special

• The one thing I always do to make roast chicken easier for a dinner party

• My approach to seasonal decor (hint: squash, dahlias, and forageable bits)

• How I use crystals and tarot as a way to deepen conversation and connection

• Why I believe intimate gatherings like this are essential for friendships — especially as a mom

HOSTING FOR THE SEASONS

I like to host some type of gathering for the start of each season. It’s lovely when you can align with an equinox or solstice, though not necessary — the start of the season works just as well. Sometimes I do this with kids, sometimes more intimately without. For the Fall Equinox, I do like to lean into the witchy-ness of the season and host a more intimate dinner with the intention of connecting more deeply.

THE MENU

For me it’s not the Fall Equinox without roast chicken. I looked back at several past menus and they all contained a similar mix to the menu I used this year. The common denominators seem to include roast chicken, squash, and all of the seasonal fruit: pears, grapes, apples, pomegranate. For me these ingredients are an ode to fall harvest season and make the table feel bountiful and alive.

• Goat Cheese and Baguette, Marinated Olives, Seasonal Fruit

• Baby Kale with Acorn Squash, Pumpkin Seeds, Ricotta, Pomegranate

• Roast Chicken with Grapes, Rosemary, Shallots

• Apple Crisp with Whipped Maple-Crème Fraîche, Aged Cheddar

When designing a menu I always seek to strike a balance between flavors, textures, and ingredients. That means I wouldn’t focus on any ingredient more than once in the menu. I will say, this menu is a bit more overbalanced in fruit/sweetness than I would typically do, but again these are my favorite flavors of the fall so I didn’t overthink it.

For more intimate gatherings like this when I want things to feel even more intentional and special, it’s the perfect time to offer a wine pairing. With our starter, we enjoyed a gorgeous sparkling rosé; with our main, a lovely light red, and an ice cider with our dessert. We are lucky to have an incredible local wine shop featuring all organic and biodynamic wines; definitely seek out a good one in your area and let them provide recommendations for your menu.

Don’t be afraid to allow guests to contribute dishes to help share the load. And of course make use of pre-made options when you can; I purchased one of my favorite goat cheeses with fig and rosemary from the farmers’ market, then jazzed up some Castelvetrano olives with a quick marinade but you could easily serve them plain.

When serving roast chicken at a dinner party, I typically will opt to have the butcher cut the chicken into pieces so I don’t have to worry about carving. (To be totally honest I tend to focus on dishes that are even more “done” in advance than this, but as I said Fall Equinox just requires roast chicken in my book!)

And allow me to share my simple tip for perfect chicken, whether roasting whole or in parts: The night before or morning of, give the chicken an abundant coating of salt and allow it to sit out without being covered in your refrigerator until you’re ready to cook; this is called a dry brine and allows the salt to penetrate while drawing out the moisture so that your chicken is perfectly juicy and flavorful.

For the salad, you don’t much of a recipe — instead you can choose your favorite fall produce and allow it to shine. I sometimes will do a squash soup as it’s another element you can have completely done prior to the meal, but a salad works just as well — simply roast your veg and prepare all elements in advance, so that you can combine before serving. As we’re calling this a girl dinner I leaned into simplicity, and since we were enjoying baguette with our starter I had extra on hand to enjoy with the chicken’s pan drippings; this for me is a perfect [girl] dinner recipe, big salad + protein + cheese + bread.

One more tip for dessert — a seasonal fruit crisp is a perfectly simple dessert that will always delight, and the way we’ve elevated here is the also deceptively simple topping of whipped maple-crème fraîche, oh this was so beyond good and so easy: just whip up a bit of crème fraîche with some heavy cream, then add maple syrup and sea salt to taste. I really do not think you need measurements here because it will be good no matter it leans more cream or vice versa, but you do need the confidence to trust your taste buds which is the key to cooking well. And to actually keep tasting the food! Just keep tasting and trusting.

Serving a nice aged cheddar with dessert is another little treat, I do love a cheese with dessert and went with cheddar to pair with the apples and the cider, but you can go in any direction you like, maybe a nice blue to pair with a pear crumble, or if you want to keep it really simple you could cheese your favorite creamy cheese and maybe just offer some really good dark chocolate, broken into pieces and served on a little tray — I can’t think of anything that would please me more, if someone presented me with this and a gorgeous glass of Sauternes.

THE TABLE

You don’t need much more than a few mini pumpkins or perhaps a couple of pomegranates and funky squash, to create a simple yet whimsical fall tablescape.

I set the table with some of my favorite fall linens, including a tablecloth and napkins from my line. (The chartreuse gingham napkins are sadly sold out, as our many of our fall-forward napkins but we do have some favorites for table coverings in chocolate brown stripe and leopard). Feel free to use any linens you love either in neutral colors (allowing the seasonal produce to shine) or rich fall shades of brown, deep wine, mustard, olive green and so on.

Seasonal flowers are always ideal when you can find them; of course, dahlias are a must for me. But don’t worry about making things too perfect or precious; my flowers were a few days old from the farmers’ market and starting to wilt, which I actually embraced for the theme of the season.

Don’t forget the candlelight — I like to light candles on the table as well as throughout the space.

THE RITUAL

I always enjoy a simple tarot ritual for an intimate dinner with friends — and you don’t need to consider yourself a practiced witch to try this yourself. Simply choose a tarot deck and have each guest pull a card. Many decks come with a book to help you with the meanings for each card, but you can easily give it a quick search online. I like to also look at the illustration on the card for a moment and see if anything comes to you.

To specifically honor the equinox for this dinner, I also chose to offer each guest a token of obsidian. This is a crystal that is known to represent death and new beginnings, which I thought was a perfect way to honor the turn of the wheel into the fall and winter, a chance for us all to consider what we want to let go of so that we can create space for new growth when spring comes back around. We went around in circle and as we each took our crystal from the dish, we shared what we were releasing and calling in.

I like that each guest has a little token to remember the evening and their intentions. If you don’t have crystals on hand, you can gather some bits of nature from outside.

A NOTE ON CONNECTION

If you’re in your mom-to-young-children era, chances are you’ve made friends with a group of women in your community but maybe you don’t always get the chance to go beyond surface level. Hosting a dinner like this offers a valuable chance to connect more deeply than you may be do at playdates and other group functions.

Here’s to an abundant and joyful season ahead for all. 🥂🍂

x Sarah

[baking]
Cinnamon-Sugar Apple Cake

I’ve made many apple cakes, and this one has just surpassed all others as our absolute favorite. Aside from the fact that they’re a tradition for the Jewish new year, there’s something about apple cakes that feel so comforting and old world to me. Plus I’m always looking for ways to use up apples after apple picking, and this is much simpler and easier than apple pie. Starting with this recipe from NY Times, I used browned butter instead of oil (next time will try olive oil) and while I opted out of the frosting drizzle, the cinnamon-sugar topping is a must.

[glowing]
Pumpkin Enzyme Mask

For a more subtle take on pumpkin spice, might I suggest thisface mask, which I enjoy using year-round but especially this time of year. I don’t have a very complicated skincare routine but I do like to exfoliate 1-2x per week, and this is my go-to this time of year. It smells delicious and leaves my skin feeling vibrant.

[burning]
Tabacco Toscano Candle

I like to treat myself to a new scent for my home in the fall, and this year it’s the Tabacco Toscano sent from Santa Maria Novella. Perfectly woodsy and warm without being cloying. (In case anyone is wondering, I also tried their terracotta pomegranate diffuser and while I love the look and idea of it, it’s not my favorite scent — I love patchouli and many of the notes listed but it reads a bit soapy/perfume-like to me.)

[reading]
Jane Eyre

I love to mark the start of fall with a certain type of book. I don’t do this with the other seasons so much as this one; perhaps because I love the cozy and atmospheric nature of it. Any and all by Alice Hoffman, and I may add a few to this category like Hamnet, The Secret History, or the Dutch House… or another all-time favorite, the Mists of Avalon. As a Victorian and British-historical devotee, I was shocked to realize I had never read this classic so I’m very excited to dive in.

[wearing]
Studded Birks

A little upgrade to everyone’s favorite clogs. As much as I would love to invest in a new a little suede boot, I must be honest with myself about my lifestyle and these are the shoes I’ll actually throw on most days. I’ve had the shearling-lined pair for a few years so I have put these off for a while, though I’ve always craved the mushroom color. The studded detail gave me the perfect excuse to finally pull the trigger.

I love that the Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, began right on the Fall equinox this year. So perfect as I always see them as aligned. I think everyone can agree, this time of year feels much more ripe with new beginnings than the beginning of our calendar year in January? And I guess also ironically, the fall season is all about death in the wheel of the year. But what are new beginnings without death?

Though I am from Florida originally and will always view flip-flops as the ideal shoe, I do love the seasons and perhaps I romanticize them even more for this very reason: I didn’t grow up having to deal with their less attractive attributes — shoveling snow, etc.

Still most people would call fall their favorite season, right? I find that we’re always craving the next season, no matter how much we live for summer, by the time September rolls around we find ourselves craving the crisp air, cashmere sweaters, and maybe for the basic among us, pumpkin spice things.

I love to honor the start of each season in some way, and for this fall equinox I will be hosting a dinner tomorrow evening for some girlfriends. It’s always a little different but generally for each season I like to celebrate by making a meal or at least a special dish.

Here are a few things I love to do in the fall, serving as somewhat of a bucket list or moodboard translated into real life:

Rituals of the Fall Season

apple picking

I dragged my family apple picking in the middle of a busy weekend because it’s prime season right now and there was no other time in our calendar we’d be able to go for the season. We missed blueberry picking this summer so I wasn’t about to miss this one. Plus we had to get Dahlia on a pumpkin for a photo at the pumpkin patch! We go to a place called Fishkill Farms if you’re near the city, it’s great though known to get a little hectic on the weekends with live music, food, etc. — my hot tip is to go in the late afternoon when it’s a bit more relaxed.

baking with pumpkin

Even if pumpkin spice isn’t your thing (I can’t relate), I hope you’ll still indulge in at least baking with it. I’ve been baking a pumpkin-olive oil bread for years that I love and it’s even a bit heathy — let me know if you’d like me to share the recipe. A few more I’ve bookmarked here, here, and here.

halloween

Our little town does Halloween right. We have an amazing Halloween parade in neighboring Cold Spring, and then trick-or-treating on the actual day is done on a certain street where everyone goes all-out on decorating. I’m talking like walking through a series of haunted houses, it really is incredible. Highly recommend vetting a special place like this near you if you don’t know of one already. I’ve also just ordered our costumes, after waiting to see if Violet might change her mind and let us dress up as the Wizard of Oz, but alas no — it’s Gabby’s Dollhouse for the Spiegels this year.

chili + soups

Many people partake in the ritual of making a pot of chili on Halloween, which is lovely. For others, it’s synonymous with football Sunday. I love making chilis and soups all season long, a welcome respite from all of the salads and raw produce we consume in the summer. I’ve always wanted to host a soup potluck, so I’m hoping to try it this season as it seems like it would be a perfect low-key way to gather with other families.

seasonal blooms

Perhaps I am biased, but I find dahlias to be a perfect flower ;) — and I especially love that they come into season just as the start of fall whispers upon us. I’ve always adored them — and now that my second baby shares their name, I’ve earned the right to a weekly dahlia arrangement.

sukkot

Sukkot is another Jewish holiday falling in early October this year, a weeklong festival to remember the exodus from Egypt and give thanks for the harvest season. Temporary dwellings are built outside and decorated with branches and leaves, designed to celebrate the fragility of life and the beauty of impermanence. I am pleased to say Jared has agreed to build a sukkah for us this year, which I hope happens as we haven’t done this yet and I think it’s such a beautiful idea.

lighting fires

As soon as the temperature drops we have a fire going every weekend. We go through a lot of firewood! For us this is is the perfect time to slow down with the girls and enjoy being together, perhaps listening to some music over wine or hot cocoa. If you don’t have a fireplace you can use candles in the same way — I’ve always loved the idea of lighting a ton of white pillar and votive candles throughout a room.

foraging with littles

If you have little ones then you already know the joys of watching them play in piles of leaves for the first time. As they get older I love to go on foraging walks around our home, bringing a favorite basket and collecting the prettiest leaves, acorns, and branches we can find. You can even display them on your table, gathering branches for a vase or adding acorns and stones to a small bowl alongside.

Enjoy the season!

x Sarah

Dahlia Margot was born last November, and she has truly been the most delicious and perfect baby. Maybe what they say about the second baby is true, idk. She’s pretty unbelievable. Violet, who is now 4, has been the best big sister, constantly helping baby D (or as she dotingly calls her, Dolly Baby 🥹) to avoid putting small things into her mouth, making sure she always has a toy to play with, etc. Not without some effect though, as recently we’ve been in meltdown territory which I can only assume has something to do with the fact that we obsess and dote on Dolly’s every move, and occasionally are less than pleased with some of Violet’s behaviors.

Dolly or Dahlia? I mention it because people ask all the time if we call her Dolly, and we do, yet I never saw myself writing her name as Dolly. And I just did! Because I tend to write so conversationally, I can only type the words as I would speak them, and Dolly does come out often.

And to stay within the topic of Dolly’s names, we have chosen yet another for her – her Hebrew name, Aluma. I love names, the process of discovering them, researching the meanings, all of it. One of the greatest gifts of converting to Judaism is that I was given the opportunity to choose my own Hebrew name, which has become very important to me, and something I use like a mantra on a daily basis.

My name is Briyah, for the World of Creation in Kabbalah, and also implies the ability to be reborn with every moment and every breath. Like a mantra, if I’m stuck in a difficult moment, I can close my eyes and repeat the word and remember I always have the power to breathe, to start again, to become anew.

Similar to the process of finding my name, I dug deeper into the meaning of Aluma to choose it for Dahlia. After having her chart read, I learned that her essence is that of a natural leader — a powerful being who is here to make a difference, to pursue life boldly, and to guide others. At first glance (or Google), Aluma is defined simply as “maiden” or “sheaf of wheat.” I liked this connection to the natural world, but after more exploring I learned the name carries a deeper mystical meaning. In the book of Genesis, Joseph dreams of alumot — sheaves of grain in the field. His own aluma rises upright, and the others gather around it. This beautiful symbol of destiny, standing tall, and calling others into alignment felt perfect for our girl.

I had planned to take a pause from working when Dahlia was born. Most importantly I wanted time to be with her, to adjust to being a mother of two, but it was auspicious timing because I also knew it was the right thing for my business. Now reflecting back it was coming on two years since I had started, and I knew that I had learned so much but also that I hadn’t yet really scratched the surface of what I wanted to do. So I was very much looking forward to taking a pause and reflecting on all of my learnings, getting back to the soul of the brand and what I wanted to create.

And another rebirth it was. Being a mother changes you, I knew this already but I hadn’t counted on how dramatically it would happen again with #2. So many things (social media being one) just fell away as non-important. All of this seemed to line up with a larger shift happening in the world, so much is changing and evolving on a greater collective scale. It has felt good to sit with it [life] for a while, not to rush to the next thing as I always did in the past.

Not to say I haven’t been doing, as I have greatly enjoyed designing / refining / developing over the recent months. But with much more ease than I’ve experienced in the past.

Rather than chase my next production run (thank you tariffs?), I’ve had the chance to go deeper into this world I’m building — or maybe to start really building it? That is part of my goal with writing and sharing here again, to hone my own inspirations and creative process, to explore my ideas about beauty and ritual and ease and [hopefully] to spread some enchantment and resonance along the way.

It’s easy to forget, but we always do hold the power to take a breath, and start again.

Bye for now,

x Sarah