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.

I often think about the love letters that Victorian women used to write to their friends. The passions and adoration expressed for a love that is so very different from that of a romantic partner but oh so vital. Having been single for what feels like a lifetime, I have found endless affection and companionship within my female friendships. The love of which has gotten me through wildly contrasting times, chapters of utter elation and blackened pools of sorrow. I have women in my life who have seen me through countless versions of myself (some of which we should all like to forget.) Women who I have laughed with until tears stream down our faces, cheeks sore from unbridled smiles. Women who have watched me grieve and who have picked me up when I could not do so for myself. It is the power and love of these women who I owe a depth of gratitude to, the reason I have grown into this version of myself. The version I am most proud of. And to celebrate them is such an effortless venture. So it seems only right that for Valentine’s day, I turn to the true loves of my life for an evening of much needed platonic romance and absolute effervescence. 

If by some wild chance, it is not obvious by now, the golden age of Hollywood and the films made during that era are not only a huge inspiration for me, but also a large part of who I am. I became enamored with Turner Classic Movies when I was in the second grade. The characters, the stories, the fashion and the starletts… I was love struck. That year, I styled my hair like Veronica Lake, blonde strands dramatically swept over one eye, my affect as mysterious as possible. I remember the school photographer trying to get me to push my hair out of my face for my school photo. I refused. What can I say, I have always been committed to the craft. 

All this to say, and reiterate, that the tales of Hollywood, the glitz and glamour of that world, is simply deeply ingrained in me. So when I set out to create my dinner parties and evenings as a whole, I am often inspired by favorite films, costumes, characters and settings from a bygone era.