I have forever been in love with the classic romance novels, with their tales of wooing and letter writing, dreamy picnics by the sea and petite bouquets of wildflowers gathered on strolls through the countryside, it is as if my dream life is being lived out by these characters. As I have settled more and more into my unconventional adult life, I see how much these fictional moments inspire me. How they have shaped my creativity and my life and how deeply I crave designing imaginative worlds for myself and my guests. It has all woven itself into a space meant for romanticizing seasons and experiences through nostalgia and tales of bygone eras. With summertime creeping in, the desire to build a feminine picnic with classic french faire and bottles of crisp white wine shifted from a faraway fictional daydream to an absolute compulsion. I needed an afternoon of sundresses under the shade of a lemon tree, Parisian inspired sandwiches, a bit of cheese, stone fruit and a salad that would transport me to the South of France.

The French custom of le Apéro is one to be admired – A little moment meant for living… A potential slice of relaxation and connection and a treat that is easily skipped over here in America. I have long been a fan of the practice but I am ashamed to say that I indulge in the tradition far less than I would like. Ultimately, it is an experience that we allow ourselves the pleasure of while on vacation, we become enamored with the simple charm of it all, yet forget to add into our daily lives when reality sets back in. When the work day is done, it is easy to simply fall into the to-dos of the evening, tidying, dinner, night time routine… The moment for one's self is skipped over. Lost in the tasks and procedures. But what if one or two nights a week, instead of jumping into the mindless formula of our day-to-day, we meet a friend for a sweet vermouth or spritz on the way home? Perhaps we host a mini gathering at home before dinnertime? What if we took the time to breathe and unwind…to simply connect.

It is this time of year again. The time when I start to crave riviera vibes, consciously curating a mental transition to a world of airy sundresses, perfectly worn in leather sandals and golden hour treats. I fell madly in love with summer my first July in Southern France. The Mediterranean  transformed the meaning of the season for me. There, summer feels more magical, full of warm late night strolls and dripping gelato and salty sun kissed skin. It is an intoxicating way of life and one that I am constantly reminding myself to emulate.

Lately I describe my life as being perpetually jet lagged. It has become part of my personality in a way. I never seem to know what day it is or what time zone I am in and most nights I wake up not knowing what bed I am in (and not in the way that you are thinking). I love my job and cherish all of the adventures that I am able to embark upon. I know how truly fortunate I am. On the flip side, however, always being on the go, hopping from one hotel to the next and eating every meal out can take a bit of a toll mentally and physically. When at home, I love my routine. I rely on it. Slow mornings with a cup of tea and curling up with the kitties, podcasts and favorite old films to keep me company and a simple bud vase sporting a couple of blooms next to the sink to make doing the dishes feels a little more cheerful. I love creating a little beautiful bubble for myself in my petite space. And when traveling as much as I do, that sense of personal normalcy and comfort is deeply missed. So I have set out to bring a bit of that Le Supper Club influence to my travels. A way to feel a bit more grounded, bringing a bit of creativity and curation to my life… a bit of home away from home. 

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.