"Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone." - Alan Lightman

Sometimes we wish time would hurry up and pass - to heal a broken heart, to get to the weekend/vacation or to to find out if you landed your dream job. Other times, we wish time would stand still - that we're growing old too fast or the beautiful moment is too fleeting. I'm constantly suggesting existential, philosophical or spiritual books as reference for dilemmas or life "struggles" people may be encountering. Some books are written so eloquently, finding fitting words to such complexities. Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman fictionalizes Albert Einstein in his youth, exploring his dreams as a means of challenging our concept of time. It demonstrates the relationships human beings have to time, spiritually reaffirming Einstein's theory of relativity. Time might be circular, with each moment lived over and over again. It might be peculiar to location, so that the time is never the same in any two places. Or, time might run backwards, so that we begin by dying and end by being born:

"Some say it is best not to go near the center of time. Life is a vessel of sadness, but is noble to live life and without time there is no life. Others disagree. They would rather have an eternity of contentment, even if that eternity were fixed and frozen, like a butterfly mounted in a case."

(Let me stop myself before I go on a tangent as usual) Whether you read the book or not, it's important to ponder your personal relationship to time and challenge your own concepts. Be conscious of the times you hope time speeds up or slows down .. . work to savour each moment, even when it takes place along a journey to a destination of healing.

Vacations are delicious times to be savoured. The key is to bring awareness to all your senses:
Sight - lush landscapes of rolling hills, densely forested, mountains, pristine white sand beaches, crystal blue ocean, surfers, palm tree outline

Touch - grainy sand, greasy sunscreen, 4.4 earthquake ;)

Taste - juicy fruits, seafood a la plancha, rich coffee, mofongo/platanos

Smell - salt water, nature's breeze, cigars, horses, burning (something)

Sound - bachata, merengue, salsa, Spanish, motorcycles swishing by, waves crashing

This is my experience of the Dominican Republic. Where else can you walk in to the Food Shop of a gas station early morning, hear bachata music blasting and see people drinking Presidente cerveza and couples dancing by the snacks and coffee machine? What a picturesque moment!

My favorite way of travelling, especially in Spanish-speaking countries, is with locals. First off, I really think I was either Latina in my previous life or something got mixed up at birth. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my inner Latina heart and soul. So, when I travel in Latin American or Hispanic countries, I don't want to be written off as a Gringa. I speak Spanish, eat gallo pinto, dance salsa, merengue, cha-cha and bachata, sing reggeaton songs and shout my own piropos. The Latino culture is special to me, and when I am fortunate enough to be immersed in it, I sincerely enjoy each moment . . .the whole experience.

I try to compare the DR to other places I've travelled but conclude that it is unique in its own right. It is pure Carribbean island vibe full of bachata music and chilling on porches. Arriving from the big apple to Santiago, we were greeted by a home-made feast of rice, beans, chicken, tostones, salad and casabe (crispy flatbread made from cassava - yuca - flour). To let our food digest and ease in to the warm, sunny weather, we sat in the shaded back porch, but my New York antsiness wouldn't let me sit still in the rocking chairs. We soon got moving on a tour of the local town of Moca, also known as la villa heorica due to the people of this small town who brought down two dictators and democracy back to the country. Just on the day of arrival to the DR, I saw history, played tennis, ate mofongo for the first time in Santiago, drank at the popular liquor store (a miami-beach-like bar/lounge that is also a liquor store) and danced Salsa, Merengue and Reggeaton. Bed felt so great that night, but even greater the next after an exhausting trip from Santiago to the wind-surfing beach town of Cabarete. Our little Honda couldn't make it up the first big hill with out heating up so much and eventually breaking down in the middle of a land of palm trees, chickens and horses. Three hours later, a mechanic rode over on his moto with a brand spanking new radiator. No worries that he didn't have any tools with him though. . . there was barb wire near! Ahhh .. . the simplicity of life . . .

In Cabarete, there were sunny days, volley ball, wind and kite surfers, viejo verdes, Haitians cutting fresh fruit on the beach, hookah bars, techno and reggeaton, friendly Canadian bar, wonderful food, and, not to be forgotten, mamajuana (typical indigenous drink made of rum, wine, honey, and various twigs, leaves and bark). We had a glorious meal at a place on the beach recommended to us by the locals - La Casita de Dom Alfredo Papi. Granted, we had spent time before drinking wine and mamajuana with the recently immigrated Canadian owners of a bar, but our meal was extremely memorable. As an entrada, we ordered ceviche, which I ate all the time in Costa Rica. It became almost like my Latin American comfort food. I think I make a great ceviche, but at La Casita de Papi, I was blown away equally as much as the rest of our meal of langosta y camarones a la papi. We soaked up all the juices and left over sauce with the fresh doughy french bread. After the meal, I was in too much of a food coma to ask the chef how he made all the food. . .but maybe it's better to just accept its deliciousness and not try to analyze all the components of something for once.

From Cabarete, we journied along palm tree lined streets to the fishing town of Las Terrenas to a more secluded beach of playa bonita. We decided to go by our Fodors guide to find Hotel Acaya, owned by a former Parisian fashion designer. Everything about our time there felt so tranquil along this small beach. There was surfing, horsebacking riding to beautiful cascading waterfalls, the drummer from Mohagoney Rush and a crazy Haitian boxer. Nothing compares to the fresh coconut juice we got from a worker cutting down coconuts with his machete from the palm tree at least twice the height of the homes. The indian coconuts sweetened by the natural sun makes the coconut water sold in the States seem fake. Each morning, we took our same place along the coushined benches with the view of the tranquil sea and just sat in solitude feeling the breeze and listening the waves slightly crashing against the shore. . . breathing in appreciation for life and how fortunate we were to "be here now." Breakfast served included rich, strong coffee, a plate of mixed fruit - banana, papaya, pineapple and mango - fresh squeezed juice - orange, passion fruit or pineapple - doughy french bread slices with rasberry jam and butter and eggs made to order.

One of our nights in Cabarete we were invited by Carolina, a surf instructor, to her house for a dinner she was hosting with a few friends. The evening was so lovely from the moment we stepped in to her open-aired wooden home that she shared with her beautiful daughter. The covered wooden front porch was the perfect space to entertain with a large table and couch. Carolina prepared a wonderful meal of the best pesto pasta I have ever tasted. It was my first time tasting a pesto made with peanuts, but it was exceptional. Fresh basil was blended with peanuts, freshly-pressed olive oil, grated parmesan, salt and pepper and poured over homemade pasta that was boiled with garlic in the water. With a glass of chilled rose and conversations with expats and local Dominicans, the night was most impressionable.

Rounding out the trip was a night spent in Santo Domingo, the capital, which reminded me of a European city like Spain. We landed upon an amazing hotel, Hotel Palacio, and got an executive suite. . .the only place we could find with any availability on a Saturday night. I didn't want to leave this place but had to take advantage of my only night in the city and opportunity to spend it with local friends. After passing through Santiago to drop my sister at the airport, we continued back to Moca for our last two days of vacation full of relaxing, "true country-dominican" clubs, and a minor earthquake (4.4).

While part of me does wish I could have turned this vacation in to a volunteer vacation, crossing in to Haiti to help rebuild infrastructure, my first experience in the Dominican Republic was eye-opening and 100% enjoyable. Travelling is a great teacher, exposing you to new culture, people, and landscapes. Once out of the bubble most of us live in the United States, we are able to see new realities and also examine that in which we ourselves believe we live. Exploring foreign cultures can show you that there is so much more to life, so much unknown, waiting to be explored and appreciated - outside of and within ourselves. For me, travelling gives more "meaning" to life and strengthens passion for peace and human rights. It also draws you out of the ego-centric life most of us live in daily. The stress, anxiety and "issues" we dwell in as we run in a rat race to consume and accumulate until no end begins to seem pointless and necessary to be challenged. What is all of the superfaciality we possess worth if we are not sharing or helping others. . . if we are not aware that we are just a teeny tiny part of something so much greater. . . if we never spend time with community, friends or family? Every time I'm flying and travelling, I get inspired by the freedom and am overcome with appreciation. I evaluate where I am and the person I am and then lay out and prioritize goals in order to continue the journey towards where I am going and the person I will become. I return to New York refreshed and energized to continue the journey of life and purpose, truly content and appreciative of THIS moment. . .

I planned on posting a traditional Dominican mofongo recipe but then remembered of a surprisingly impressionable food I had my last night in Santiago. I was travelling with my friend who is a partner of an innovative Mexican restuarant in the West Village and knew upon first bite of these coconut-infused mashed yucca potatoes that he must find a way to incorporate it in the menu. On our last night, we went to the mall to see the movie It's Complicated (which we ended up running out of due to the earthquake) and had a snack before at this small steak sandwich joint next to the theater. We ordered a side of these yucca mashed potatoes and were blown away by the unique flavors and texture. While mashed potatoes is a comfort food of many in the States, this coconut yucca mash, would be the caribbean island comfort food version. Images and sounds of the beach flooded my imagination as I tasted the refreshing coconut jump out of the pores of the dense, gooey mashed cassava. It's challenging to put this food experience in to words, which is why I'm going to post a semi-recipe for it (never been tested):

4 lbs fresh yucca (3 lbs frozen)

2 cups coconut milk

1 clove garlic

1 tbsp lime juice

2 tbsp butter, melted

salt

Boil yuca in salted water to cover by 2 inches until tender and starting to fall apart, 50 minutes to 1 1/4 hours.
Drain and transfer to a cutting board. Carefully halve hot yuca pieces lengthwise and remove thin woody cores. Return yuca to pot with the other ingredients. Coarsely mash yuca, adding additional milk if desired, and serve immediately.

“Comfort and prosperity have never enriched the world as much as adversity has.” Billy Graham

What is it about comfort that makes that word explode with associations and images? Comfort could be your favorite pair of jeans, a childhood memory, freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, a relationship, your job, laying in bed enveloped by a heavy blanket. . . and it goes on and on. Comfort comes in various forms but is a feeling craved oh too often. While it feels nice and safe to live in a land of comfort, it can sometimes be a sign to reevaluate where you are and why you crawled back into comforting arms or why you hesitate to unlock the suffocating embrace. We retreat back to comfortable situations when feelings of loneliness, anxiousness or fright arises. It's safe and easy to submit yourself to the challenges of confronting a difficult situation by falling back in to old ways or relationships just because it is comfortable, effortless and feels "good". . .at least for that moment. But, unless we take risks and go outside our comfort zones, exposing our vulnerable skin, we will be stuck and miss out on the journey of exploration, growth and discovery that awaits.

We learn comfort through the dark, warmth of our mother's swaying womb. It is then, from the moment of birth, when we cry out to retreat back from the stranger's hands, away from the cool, nakedness of which we are exposed. Wrapped in a blanket and placed gently back in our mother's arms, we are soothed in our first lesson of comfort. Perhaps this is where associations of our mother and family and relationships get tied in with comfort and security. It is the mother that is suppossed to be a symbol of caretaker and protector.

As I always somehow relate back to food, I find a correlation between this idea of the mother/family and comfort and the various foods labled as "comfort food" that is again becoming a popular theme and trend and in the cooking world. People are seeking out more meaning behind the food they eat and are attracted to foods that will bring some sense of well-being. . .comfort. This may sometimes mean retreating back to basics such as warm, gooey mac & cheese. . .the kind I ate all the time as a child served with a sippy cup of apple juice . .. or perhaps a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. . . with the crust cut off of course. However, comfort is ultimately something very personal, and when it comes to food, it is those individualized nostalgic elements, stirred in with cultural influences, which create your tastes of comfort.

I grew up in an area with heavy middle eastern and israeli influences and find myself craving foods like hummus, tabboule, majadra, crushed lentil soup, pita and fattoush salads especially when I am travelling abroad. While living in Costa Rica, I was fortunate to be in a town heavily populated by Israelis who owned restaurants that offered fresh, healthy and comforting foods that I was used to eating at home. And, living in New York, there is no short of this. . .or any other type of food for that matter, which is important especially in this big city when it is easy to find yourself overwhelmed by the mound of new experiences, relationships and opportunities being explored and are often just fleeting moments. . . all the more enticing you back in to what is comfortable.

There is one specific food though that I can only get from Michigan, which is definitely in the top three of things I look forward to when I go visit my family: cinammon chip scones from Ginger's Coffee Connection:

http://www.gingerscoffeeconnection.com/

Ginger's scones are the most seriously addicting baked goodie I have ever had. I am a little weary of the ingredients that must have an additive that makes them so deliciously tempting. . .but I haven't quite discovered it yet. They are paired perfectly with a cup of rich coffee in the morning or hot tea at night. . .mmmm . . .And, since I'm not such a dessert person (ironic because of my love of baking), this is pretty special. However, Ginger's Coffee Connection scone is a prime example of another food trend in which consumers are looking for a healthy twist on their comfort foods, which is usually packed with high fat and calories. GCC's baked goods are packed with flavor but high in fiber and low-cal. It's a comfort food indulgence I don't have to feel guilty about and crave during those times of nostalgia, sadness, loneliness or when I miss the simple comfort of my mother's embrace.