Yesterday, I accidentally got sucked into reading about cults.

Yes, I know, the irony kills me too, but honestly reading about cults is just a deep dark hole on the Internet. And while I have no plans to join a cult any time soon, The New York Times and New York Magazine instilled a fear in me so real, I think I’ll be avoiding Kool-Aid and self-help anything for the rest of my life.

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When Alyssa and I started this site, we cooked and photographed alone. It was the two of us, an insane amount of groceries ordered online, and a sometimes charged camera blogging in a true frenzy in my bedroom (it had the best light; welcome to New York apartments). Except for an occasional visit from a roommate to taste test or hand model, we were on our own.

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Today, I saw Bradley Cooper in the NYC wild.

What normally would have been a typical Wednesday with great weather, quickly became a glorious afternoon. I can’t take credit for the first sighting, though. My assistant saw him first. Obviously, the most logical next step would be to grab the nearest coworker and go get a coffee from the cafe next door to Bradley’s lunch spot. We certainly weren’t what I’d call covert, but we mastered the slow-walk and side-eye.

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Guys, it's been a while. And we're real sorry about that. Life has a way of sucking you in and we were two serious victims of that. But we've made it through to the other side! Hair a bit windblown, but otherwise we've made it. 

Spring is finally here and we couldn't more thrilled. Unlike the cheat we got this past fall, summer seems to be holding its full-force self at bay and letting us enjoy the cool breezes and quiet rains of spring. Finally, a real season - no half-assed snow dusting or color change accompanied by full-blown humidity. And what's a better way to celebrate spring than with something colorful and fresh?

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I know what you're thinking. Another salad. Right? Well, let me tell you, there's no such thing as too many salads. I've mentioned before that salads are traditionally thought of as boring, but what if I told you that this salad was packed with so much flavor it would almost make you forget how healthy for you it is?

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When I was still in rabbinical school I took a summer course on feminist literary references to Eve (as in, first woman ever Eve). It was an amazing class that incidentally-but-not-surprisingly was all-women, taught by a badass woman. We learned all about Eve and what had been written about her - the good and the bad but usually the bad - as well as stories about the actual first woman, Lillith, who was banished by God because she wanted to be equal to Adam and quite literally wanted to be on top. So yeah, God in this story is super into smashing the patriarchy.

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It's Sunday night, and I just got off a plane. Scratch that - I just returned from the airport of horror, LaGuardia. The last thing I want to do, let alone think of, is making dinner. In my imagination, dinner is already ready and waiting for me. Perhaps, for practicality purposes, served by a handful of singing-and-dancing knick knacks? 

OK, so maybe my life doesn't involve any Disney movie magic - which is too bad because how cool would a magic carpet be? Especially in New York, you'd save time and health commuting via magic carpet. I digress - but this blog is pretty magical. Especially when it comes to turning an over-abundance of veggies into the most convenient and delicious dishes your Sunday night has ever seen. 

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After a certain point, living in New York becomes almost natural. I  say almost because mysterious subway stenches will never be considered natural, but after a bit of adjustment, the big city mellows enough to make any transplant feel at home. Or at least, said transplant finds the mellow among the chaos. 

I've been here for over three years now, and while I've never considered myself a New Yorker, I feel I have the city down pretty well. I know how to outsmart the closing doors, maneuver reckless bikers and eat delectably while on a budget. Despite this, I still find myself surprised by the small things this city quietly offers. Like the tiny corner farmers market just outside Morningside Park. Rina and I went with the intention of meeting Susie's Senior Dogs (more on that, later, we promise), and left with a bottle of the most understated alcohol I've ever encountered: apple brandy. 

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Sometimes I like to cook lavish meals for friends - I'll spend hours in the kitchen making multiple courses with ingredients I definitely spent too much money on. I'll experiment with flavors and try new things, and feel like a total mad kitchen scientist.

Other times, I truly cannot be bothered.

Sometimes Shabbat dinner ends up being sushi or pizza delivered by very nice Seamless people. Other times, we pull an Olivia Pope and eat popcorn and have a bottle of wine each. These meals are eaten in leggings, sweatpants and amorphous sweaters. It is actually frowned upon to show up to a meal like this wearing pants with a button or zipper.

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Remember when kale was seen as nothing but a mere garnish to place various mayonnaise-based salads upon? Seems like ancient history, right? Now that kale is in everything from smoothies to pasta, it's hard to recall a time when people weren't obsessed with what carnivores could rightfully call "rabbit food."

Well, I'm here to remind you that those times did happen, friends, and what better way to remember than with a good old-fashioned fun fact? I'm nothing if not consistent.

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As I write this post, I am in the midst of some serious Monday blues. Most of the time I enjoy working at my full time job, but there are definitely times, especially on Mondays, when things feel slow and hard to wade through. It almost feels like a heavy blanket - everything feels that much harder to do because of the extra weight and pressure.

This isn't a foreign feeling to me, and I'm sure it isn't to many of you either.

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