"Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine." Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm not sure when or if the itch to travel and explore will ever end. . .and I'm not sure it's so good if it does. Traveling outside of the normal routine is invigorating and refreshing. Sometimes, we get so caught up in our bubble and begin to believe our problems are all there is to focus on. Especially when you are not challenged at work (which becomes most of your life), days seem mundane and lack inspiration. Traveling reminds me of the answer to the meaning of life. Travel challenges one to reflect, to be aware of the opportunities and possibilities that exist and appreciate the beauty within people and nature. Not all travels expose us to such positive situations, but even those ugly and sad situations show that there is so much greater than our own being and so many ways in which one could work to be more connected to the universe.

Having moved from Costa Rica to New York City, I went from one extreme to the other, from a Pura Vidalife to a rat's race. It was a shock to my system and way of being as I moved in with my sister with only one suitcase in hand and no plan other than to figure out a plan. After living in NYC over a year, I was ready for a true vacation where I could just lay on the beach and be surrounded by nature and good food and culture.

While I have a running list of places I want to visit for future travels, when I decided to go to Greece this past summer, it was more spontaneous as I happened to come across a good deal that included island hopping from Athens to Mykonos to Paros and Santorini. Not knowing much of anything about Greece other than the Americanized version of their food, I had little expectations and was more than pleasantly surprised by how wonderful a place and culinary dream it was. Our first meal in Athens was incredible and based on a recommendation from a girl working at Starbucks (yep, we found it!). Outdoors, on the sidewalk of a busy street, we were greeted with a basket of soft and crusty bread, fresh pressed olive oil, just picked olives and two shots of ouzo (that I admittingly couldn't finish). It wasn't just because we had a long day of travelling and then sight-seeing in the city that we devoured our greek salad, tomato pancakes (Tomatokeftedes) and saganaki with eggplant. The food was spectacular, fresh and satisfying and a taste of deliciousness that was to come.

Sitting on the roof of a restaurant upon a hilly stone and white-washed street in Santorini watching the sunset paint the sky over a vast body of water led me to melt into the couch and breath in the moment. . . a moment of serenity and peace.

Our last meal was most memorable and a bitter sweet way to end the trip. The experience was a constellation of moments we never wanted to end. With a bottle of crisp white local Santorini wine, oversized rolls, and dishes of tomato bruschetta and thick greek yogurt topped with eggplant salad and surrounded by natural beauty that words can not describe, the elements of the universe seemed to come together in perfect harmony. And, when it all conspires and works together, you are forced to be in and appreciate the moment and opportunity you were given to be able to experience something so incredible.

Greek food is one of my favorites, and I have yet to venture to Astoria to try the "authentic" restaurants (add that to my list), but I did have a wonderful meal at Pylos in the lower east side. Although it was definitely more of a posh, New York-Greek restaurant, the food and service was great and reminded me of the wonderful time spent in Greece. Arriving almost an hour earlier than my other half, I sat at a communal table/bar area that was for non-reservations and sipped on a glass of Santorini wine, observing the couples all around me and jotting down notes on reflections of my life and goals. There's something about the Greek ambience that urges me to self-reflect. I was just finishing my thoughts and observations when my dad arrived to share a delicious meal of greek salad, pita with hummus, beet salad and greek giant baked beans in a honey-scented tomato-dill sauce.

A couple months ago, I decided to get over my fear of cooking with eggplant. It can be so much easier than most recipes make it out to be and has an inherently delicious taste when baked/broiled. Below is a quick and easy, but tasty dish that can be modified based on likings but has become a comfort food of mine:

Eggplant Steaks with a couscous mediterranean salad:

Cut eggplant in about 4 slices length-wise and brush both sides with marinade of balsamic, soy sauce, garlic, olive oil, rosemary and pepper.

Broil for about 4 minutes on each side.

For the couscous mediterranean salad, prepare whole wheat couscous as directed.

Mix cherry tomatoes with olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper, and thyme. Roast tomatoes for about 30 minutes or until they begin to pop open.

Combine tomatoes with the couscous and add garbanzo beans, chopped olives and capers and feta.

Serving suggestions:

Plate eggplant and top with homemade hummus and sauteed spinach (w/garlic and olive oil) and serve with side of couscous mediterranean salad.

Serve eggplant steaks with couscous mediterranean salad and side of toasted pita points.

"Free the child's potential, and you will transform him into the world" Maria Montessori

Inspiration is one of the greatest gifts you can pass along to someone that leads to a reflection on how a small change in attitude can strengthen our resolve, create insight or resolve a conflict and create greater meaning in life. In this way, what was once perceived as a struggle and negative can lead to the challenge of aspiring to the perspective that turns the problems into opportunities for growth. It's one of the best feelings that can be visualized less of a lightbulb that switches on but more like a string of warmth that wraps through your body and manifests itself on the outside, perhaps with a smile or feeling of excitement, or in actions to create change.
One of my ultimate goals in life is to inspire and thus empower others in the same way so many people and experiences have inspired me. Sometimes we need inspiration more during certain times in our lives and can find it in the most obscure and unimaginable places. Inspiration may come from poetic words that touch us so personally and become motivating or from observing others and situations that bring an awakening from a hellish state of unconsciousness and invokes true emotion.

While traveling and living in Central America for two years, you almost become desensitized to the poverty around you and find excuses, such as drugs, for why the people may be homeless or begging for food and money. In many cases, drugs may be the case, but this is still no excuse to turn our backs and pretend these people and issues do not exist. At first the woman in rags holding a newborn baby and rattling her can for coins is such a shocking sight that profoundly impacts you and leaves your heart aching for days. But, as the months progress in a country where you can’t walk more than a mile with out seeing a begger and can’t sit down at for a meal outside without someone interrupting to beg for change. It begins to become an annoyance, no longer evoking such emotion but rather an obstacle that you just want to push your way through or step over. . .their presence becomes invisible. That may sound like an oxymoron, an invisible presence, but we impose this upon the poor, homeless and disabled. While we know these people exist, it becomes easier to ignore them, making them invisible while pushing out of “our world” of existence. Now, I don’t mean to generalize into a collective "we" because there are many people who feel affected by poverty, hunger, disabilities, etc., and do their part in acknowledging the issues and working to create change and helping these peoples. However, I'm bringing awareness to how easy it becomes to feel overwhelmed by the problems and throw our hands up in the air and how it is only natural to want to protect ourselves from being too emotionally affected and thus detach and invisble-fy (I know it’s not a word).

It seems that one can almost only have sympathy and compassion once he or she has had a similar experience or heard a personal story that has some element he or she can relate to. Maybe it’s as simple as relating to the begger in his fight to survive or the invisible factor: Have you never felt like nobody could see your potential or your true being, or like nobody could truly hear you? In the end though, it comes down to the truth that we are all human beings, sharing the same planet. . . all players in the same game of life. But, some of us have been dealt difficult cards and been given greater obstacles. It is those that are struggling and fighting that inspire me, snap me back into reality, forcing me to appreciate what I have, the opportunities available to me because of my health and a loving family that could provide for me.

There’s something about children that are especially inspirational to me. Perhaps it is their fragility and vulnerability that motivates me to want to be a protector or their sponginess that encourages me to want to teach so that they can absorb positivity and in turn grow to become happy and productive members of society. Children are the future. . .

"Children will not remember you for the material things you provided but for the feeling that you cherished them." ~Richard L. Evans

During a trip to Granada, Nicaragua, I was inspired by a little boy around 10 years old whose face I can picture as if I am still next to him and who I will never forget (even if Ofoto did delete any pictures I had of him). Despite all the negative perceptions of Nicaragua and its people, especially living in Costa Rica where the relationship between Nicaraguans and Costa Ricans is similar to that of North Americans and Mexicans, I found such beauty in that country. However, the situation of its people having gone through a turbulent history and living in a state of political instability is unfortunate .. .and, like, all societies, the peoples carry within them as an unconscious culture all of that history. While Costa Ricans complain Nicaraguans are taking their jobs (sound familiar?) and blame Nicaraguans for most crimes and violence (sound familiar?), without generalizing, they are trying to improve the quality of life for them and their families. Many go, leaving families behind, in order to have work and send what little money they earn back home with the hopes they can provide for their family and eventually be reunited. However, they are ostrasized and abused, taken advantage of and victimized mostly due to society's ignorance and stereotypes. I find such disgusting and dangerous racism intolerable and sympathize with people who don't have access to basic human rights and are treated so poorly or "forgotten" about--the invisible. Something about this little Nicaraguan boy captivated me. He was selling small hand-painted and crafted wooden birds that whistle. He came up to me and my friends trying to sell us some, but we just smiled and politely said no. While walking through the streets of Granada, I saw him again playing and laughing with a group of his friends lounging between pillars on the porch of a stunning historical building. It was so endearing that the next time he approached us while we were eating along the plaza, I started conversation with him and planned to give him some money. While my friends went to shop in the market, I stayed behind to talk with this boy for what turned out to be a seemingly long time. We were talking about school and his favorite subjects and that he loved reading and math and computers. He told me that he wanted to give me a bird as a gift and didn't want money in return. With hesitation, I graciously accepted and continued to tell him that I wanted to give him a gift. I asked if I could buy him food or if he liked candy, but he kept saying no to all my offerings. I asked if he could have one gift, what would he want. His reply: a new notebook for school. In that moment, my heart went out to him and all the children who don't have access to basic resources and can't afford to buy school supplies, so basic as a notebook. I saw his eyes light up as he spoke about his love of school and of learning. It was so genuine and endearing. Mothers will often send their children to go beg as they stand behind to then immediately collect the change, even sacraficing the child's education. I wanted the money to go towards his notebook. In the end, I insisted that I was going to give him some money but made him promise that it was only to be used for himself. Almost three years later, I can still feel the impression this boy left on me almost as profoundly as it was just yesterday and only hope I could have inspired him as much as he did me.

"No one has yet realized the wealth of sympathy, the kindness and generosity hidden in the soul of a child. The effort of every true education should be to unlock that treasure." ~Emma Goldman

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends" - Martin Luther King Jr.

Lazy Sundays are for sleeping in, lounging in your bathrobe with a cup of piping hot french pressed coffee and the new york times and later casually dressing to catch up with friends over a lengthy, unhurried brunch. It has become a favorite meal for many because of its special stamp marking the weekend and is accompanied by personal memories. Growing up, brunch was often the only meal of the week when my entire family got together including my nana and Lou. I woke up to the smell of grilled onions waiting to be wrapped in an omellete, fresh orange juice sparkled as the sun hit the glass pitcher and an array of bagels, cream cheese spreads, garnishes and lox lay center of a nicely set table. In college, brunch became the meal that satisfied to help alleviate my hangover and also recap with friends about the weekend events and encounters with fraternity boys. Now, Sunday brunch is a leisurely time when I can share the day with my boyfriend, or, as I did this past weekend, with wonderful friends that are often hard to connect with due to long distance or everyone's busy life schedules. As Deng Ming-Dao said, "Those truly linked don't need correspondence. When they meet again after many years apart, their friendship is as true as ever." These words eloquently express the bond that special relationships and true friendships have that will always remain in the heart.
I value the friendships I've been lucky enough to have made and kept in life. I've learned good, true friends are hard to come by. While studying abroad in 2005, I met two girls during orientation with the brightest energy that I never could have imagined would later become such wonderful and supportive friends. After almost two years of not seeing each other, since I moved back to the States, we reunited over Halloween for a weekend of festivities, reminiscing and catching up. It brought back incredible times we shared in Costa Rica from spontaneous overnight weekday trips between classes just so we could go to our favorite Monday night spot amongst surfers in Playa Hermosa (4 hours from the city) to the disgustingly memorable hostels and condos we visited and lived in together across the coasts. With these girls, I shared some of my best times and have had their shoulder to lean on and ear to listen. They were part of a time that forever changed who I was, shaping me to become a better person who developed an understanding of what is important to me in this life.

While in Costa Rica, we had some of our greatest times at Tsunami Sushi in Playa Jaco induldging in the freshest sushi and craziest environment, but this past weekend, it was brunch at Ann Sathers in Chicago that will stay with me forever. After accepting we are in the States where there is almost always long lines at brunch hot spots, we put are name down with who we envisioned as Ann Sathers (although I'm not sure it really was). Only fifteen minutes later, we were sat by the window where the sun shone through just as I remembered it always had during brunch. It was comforting to know from the time I arrived that these girls haven't changed much. They devoured the dozen of chocolate chip cookies that I made the night before leaving for Chicago all in that first day and Ashley, God bless her, was most excited to take us to brunch at Ann Sather for their infamous cinammon rolls. Looking back at the weekend, despite the great parties we attended and intoxicating elderflower margaritas and pomogranate mojitos we gulped down, the cinammon rolls and brunch was the highlight of the trip. It consisted of great service, incredibley satisfying and tasty food and the best company one could ask for. In Rachael Ray's Tasty Travels, she takes a neighborhood-by-neighborhood trip of Chicago, stopping at Ann Sather's for the Swedish delights and now has her name on their menu as recommending the French Toast Fantasy - Marscarpone-filled cinnamon rolls, battered, grilled and topped with granola and fresh seasonal berries. Cinnamon rolls made in to stuffed french toast sounds amazing, but I'm more of a savory brunch person and thus opted for the V4 omellete - Fresh artichokes, asparagus, Portabello mushrooms and tomatoes inside a three-egg omelet topped with asiago cheese. All egg dishes come with your choice of two sides. I jumped at the opportunity to try the cinammon rolls. Two on a plate (as one side) came on hot plates with the gooey frosting dripping down the sides and even some on to the floor. They looked and smelled almost as good as they tasted. Cinnabon's used to be my favorite until I met these. Ann Sather's fresh cinnamon rolls had the perfect balance of sweetness and savoriness in the bread, and the cinnamon laced throughout the roll and layer of icing was not too overpowering. Mmmm . . .so delicious! I would definitley just make a trip to the cafe to pick up some of these cinnamon rolls and coffee to take back home in to bed. That way I wouldn't have to control myself in devouring it so as to save room for the main course that was so worth it. The omellete looked more like a frittata but was great because it wasn't too eggy so that I could taste all the filings and the cheesy golden brown asiago topping layer. We didn't want to leave the restaurant, contently digesting our food and wanting to savour the company of friends, but eventually had to say good-bye to both. It's funny how sometimes we wish time would pass more quickly to heal pain or to get to a good goal but time also seems to go by way too fast. They say time only flies by faster with age (that I've already found to be shockingly true), but Sunday brunch with friends is a time to slow down and appreciate life's blessings .. . and tastes even better with Cinnamon rolls.

Banana-Nut Monkey Bread
Recipe adapted from The Redhead
Makes 1 bread

Dough:
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cups milk
¼ cup sugar
¼ ounce active dry yeast
5½ cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon fine sea salt
2 large egg yolks, beaten

Filling:
2 sticks (8 ounces) unsalted butter, melted, plus more for the pan
2 cups sugar
1 cup pure maple syrup
3 bananas, sliced
1 cup toasted chopped pecans
Zest and juice of one orange

1.Make the dough: In a small saucepan, melt the 4 tablespoons of butter. Add the milk and
sugar and place over low heat, stirring, until lukewarm (about 110°). Sprinkle the yeast over
the top and set aside until foamy, about 10 minutes.
2. Grease a large bowl with nonstick cooking spray. In another large bowl, whisk together the
flour and salt. Whisk the yolks into the milk mixture.
3. Stir the wet mixture into the dry mixture to make a wet, so) dough. Turn the dough out onto
a lightly floured surface and lightly knead until so) and elastic. Shape the dough into a ball
and place it into the greased bowl. Cover the bowl with a clean kitchen towel and let sit at
room temperature until doubled in size.
4. Make the filling: Preheat the oven to 400°. Butter a Bundt pan. In a large bowl, combine the
sugar, maple syrup, bananas, pecans and orange juice and zest with one-half of the melted
butter. Pour one-third of the filling into the bottom of the pan. Reserve the remainder.
5. Place the dough on a lightly floured surface and divide into 36 balls, rolling each ball gently
on the counter until smooth and seamless.
6.Arrange enough dough ba$s to form two circles around the bottom of the pan. Top with some
of the filling. Continue until you use up all the dough and filling, tucking the dough into the
holes left from the previous layer. Cover with a kitchen towel and let stand until risen to the
top of the pan, about 1 hour.
7. Pour the remaining melted butter over the top and bake for 15 minutes. Cover the pan loosely
with foil and bake for 20 minutes longer, until the interior of the bread registers 190°;
remove from the oven.
8. Let the bread cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a plate. Break into rolls or cut
into slices and serve.