In Los Angeles, the shift in seasons is very subtle. With seemingly forever good weather, I always long for a true spring and autumn, a time when promises and possibilities seem most prevalent. In Los Angeles, our springtime is shown with the notorious moodiness of ‘May gray’ and ‘June gloom’. A time when mornings are overcast due to the change in temperature against the ocean creating a marine layer that makes LA, for a moment, seem as though it could be somewhere else. The few trees that had dropped their leaves a few months prior now bear the classic spring green buds and the unforgettable scent of jasmine dances through the air. I have learned to read the subtleties. The Santa Ana winds, the shift in light, the way the heat builds and lingers, the brief use of my little apartment radiator… But today, as I write this article, it is 97º F, record breaking heat for Los Angeles this time of year, and I am melting in my Silver Lake apartment because I refuse to get my air conditioning units out of storage and set them into the window just quite yet. I am holding on to the idea of spring just a bit longer, telling myself that this is a fluke heat wave and that AC is not necessary until at least the end of June. I may just have to give into the heat of the city earlier this year however. 

Spring is a delicate season. One that feels tender and sweet and almost fragile. Flavors and colors come on slowly, coaxing us gently out of a sepia toned winter haze and into a technicolor vision that has us wondering why we ever craved the cozy nights of winter. To me, that is the beauty of Mother Nature – She gently unfolds, enchanting us into new chapters of unique splendor with a promise of new adventure, a perfectly timed exodus of one season just as we begin to crave another. And right on cue, the gift of spring has arrived just as I was beginning to wonder why I ever claimed to love winter. A notion that I know will return in the autumn as I grow weary of the endless heat of summer. But for now, it is spring. And it is easy to fall in love with the quiet moments, the dawn of the season’s beauty and the promise of a world in full bloom. 

It is the year of the Cool Auntie. A time to celebrate the childless cat ladies who show up to Easter brunch with a collection of wild tales and a passport that gets more action than Henry VIII had wives. The Cool Auntie is a vibe. She is a lifestyle. An essence. And not everyone appreciates her. Not everyone appreciates me. I have an out-of-the-box kind of lifestyle. I am a childless cat lady. The Cool Auntie to my friend’s kids and my nephew. The black sheep of the extended family who is talked about and most likely judged a little bit and definitely not at all understood. And to be honest, I do not always understand my life myself. It is not exactly what I imagined it to be and yet, upon reflection, I think I have always marched to the beat of an unexpected drum. I have chosen the artist's path, one that has not always been easy, but one that has been filled with exceptional stories and a lifetime of memories. I am not always sure of the life I lead. I have doubts. I have had dreams of a family life, oftentimes I still do. Planning kids birthday parties and holiday traditions, visions of family life, it all swims around in my mind from time-to-time. But ultimately, the universe had other ideas, other plans.

As we enter a new seasonal chapter, I am enthralled with farmers market finds and vibrant spring produce on display like little jewels piled high on humble plywood and sawhorse tables. Winter has come to a close, and with it, the rich comfort foods that nourished us in the darkest days of the year have lost their luster. No longer craving soups and dinners of roast meats and decadent sauces, my attention has shifted to simpler, ingredient forward dishes. Plates designed by the palette of the season, spring greens and robin egg blues all bursting forth after a period of hibernation. Spring, to me, is a lot of things. It is the promise of tender vegetables and ruby red strawberries. The fresh awakening after Mother Nature’s winter nap. It is slow mornings and a shift into longer golden hours. It is the pastels of tulips and the butter yellow of daffodils. It is, simply put, lovely.

With Cool Auntie inspiration winding through all of my Easter visions, I knew that I needed to create something wild and epic for my brunch cocktail menu. I simply could not serve basic mimosas and bloody marys, these cocktails needed to be worthy of an independent, jet set, fashion forward childless cat lady. The sips not only needed to be unique and fashionable, but also delicious. So I set out to develop the perfect cocktails to enhance and accessorize that Cool Auntie lifestyle. 

I have an undeniable love affair with Parisian bistros. The charm, the classic menu, the pomp, the apero culture, le café au lait, the waiters who either love me or roll their eyes at me… j'adore tout! I cannot help but be pulled into this city and the vibrant energy it emits – the rich culture and the way that they just know how to live is envyable. And most of all, I adore how they eat! 

Craving an evening in Paris, I had to bring a taste of the experience to my little boîte à bijoux. A moment in a classic bistro with a few french staples that I cannot live too long without. Moules Frites, an uncomplicated green salad and bien sûr, mousse au chocolat.

Dessert and caviar is not something you often think about pairing. But hear me out. This dessert changed my life for the better and might just be one of the easiest ‘fancy’ end of the night bites to ever grace your table. If you are at all into dipping your fries into a milkshake or enjoy an olive oil ice cream, you have just been introduced to the perfect savory dessert creation. One scoop of this silky panna cotta with its bold briny pairing elicits an elegant salty/sweet balancing act, leaving one delighted and also a tiny bit perplexed. So beguiling, you simply have to go in for more as you try to figure out how on earth caviar and panna cotta work so well together. 

Movies have always been an important escape for me. A form of entertainment, expression and most recently, inspiration. So I tend to take my movie nights very seriously. I believe that my lists of favorites and my recommendations say a lot about who I am. Loved ones who are invited  (forced) to watch my favorite flicks with me are indoctrinated into a little personal club. A place that is weirdly vulnerable and that explains a lot about who I am and why I love what I love. Ultimately, the woman that I am today is because of a tiny starry-eyed girl who sat in front of the television watching Turner Classic Movies, idolizing Hollywood and the iconic starlets who danced across the silver screen. I am proud of who that imaginative girl has turned into. Still day dreaming and still obsessed with Old Hollywood, only now, I see these movies in a whole new light and I can finally host epic dinner parties and swanky cocktail soirées inspired by many of the tales and characters that I fell in love with decades ago. 

The New York Happy Meal. I adore the concept. It is peckish perfection. A better trio is rarely seen… fries, a caesar salad or burger and a dirty martini, what more could you crave on a random Thursday night? A solution to the hustle and bustle, an answer to a hard day at work, a distraction from the day-to-day. I am all in for this culinary trend. 10/10.