// Intrusive-thought lullabies//

The recent nights have brought upon me bizarre, unsettling imagery as I try to sleep.

Last night’s gems included wondering how terrible it would be if one of my neighbors falls asleep smoking and burns down the building, and kills my dog, who is locked behind the anti-intruder fire escape grate, preventing firemen from rescuing him.

Slumber party, anyone?

// Chemical Warfare//

About 2 months ago I stopped washing my face with soap and using over-the-counter moisturizer.  Pretty bold move for the raw NYC winters, considering I spent my life on the losing side of a battle against eczema.  I may be in favor of nature, but I’m not a dirty hippie.  So what pushed me to such limits? 

Aloe. Straight up aloe vera. 

Make-up remover, face wash, moisturizer, and toner all in one.  Anti-inflammatory, healing, cooling, soothing, gentle, and hypoallergenic.  Sterile until opened, the gel inside the plant has pH almost identical to the levels in our skin. 

Let me be crystal clear: I’m using fillets of actual aloe leaves.  Nothing has been processed in any manner, other than me cutting it open with a knife. 

To remove make-up: rub fillet on face.  rinse.

To wash: rub fillet on face. rinse.

To moisturize: lightly rub fillet on face. allow to dry.

To tone: lightly rub fillet on face.  allow to dry. 

To soothe eczema, or any rash really: rub fillet on affected area.  allow to dry.

It’s been 2 months and my skin is in the best shape of its life.  I found 12”-16” leaves at the Manhattan Fruit Exchange in the Chelsea Market for $0.75/each, whereas my local spot wanted $2 for them.  I have a dedicated area in my refrigerator and I just grab a new 2”-segment when the previous one fades into nothing, about every two days.  As the cheapest, most holistic skincare product I can think of, it’s conceivably perfect. 

// Daddy’s Oatmeal Bread//

My dad makes the best bread I’ve ever tasted- it’s thick crumb is rich wtih molasses, orange juice, oats, yeast and love.  It’s his mother’s recipe, and everyone in the following generations knows it and loves it.  Its thin crust allows it to toast up quickly and the dense crumb holds its toasted heat.  My dad makes it for holidays and on special request, and he uses a special ceramic bowl that he found in the house in which he now lives.  The bread is akin to Proust’s Madeleine or Pixar’s final scene in Ratatouille- all elements of this bread bring forth memories and rememberances of times past that are sweet and soothing. 

When my parents divorced, my dad made the bread on a regular basis.  Carefully kneading and rising the dough to create a splendid bread to nourish himself and his daughters, enthusiastically picking at the raw dough and buttering the finished warm slices.  In my own times of challenge and change, I find myself going back to the familiar act of kneading, rising, and caring for the little buns in the oven.  The recipe is simple, nearly foolproof, and hearty.  

Here it is, for all dear readers to replicate at your leisure.  It tastes and feels best in the winter, but the summer warms our homes to sufficiently serve as great incubators.

Daddy’s Oatmeal Bread
 yields 2 loaves 
1 cup oatmeal
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup molasses
1/4 cup shortening
1/4 cup orange juice
1 1/2 water
2 envelopes yeast
6 cups flour

In a large bowl, mix oatmeal, salt, molasses, and shortening.  In a separate small bowl or container, dissolve yeast in 1/2 cup of lukewarm warm water. 

Boil orange juice and water and add to oatmeal mixture and combine well.  Add yeast and combine gently.  Slowly begin to mix in flour, a cup or two at a time until well incorporated.  Prepare a lightly floured surface for kneading.

Turn bread dough out onto surface and knead for about 10 minutes.  Transfer to a clean, warm bowl, cover and allow to rise (it should double, about an hour or 2).  Knead again and shape for pans- place in pans and allow to rise again.

Bake at 350F for 40-50 minutes.  Enjoy.

Tip: allow to rise in a calm, warm place- in the oven with the light on, for example, is a great place.  Avoid disturbing the rising bread as it needs calm to rise.

// Treats//

A gentle walk this balmy evening down 9th avenue yielded a lovely chat with my mom, followed by vegan cookie samples, then free prosecco and macaroons. If there’s another shoe, I hope it never drops.

// Be Tulum//

The hotel, at regular capacity, can house about 40 guests, spread out over a campus of cabins nearly camouflaged within the natural surroundings.  You feel like the only one there, thanks to the attentive staff and landscape architecture.  While they don’t tout it loudly, Be Tulum prides itself on being an ecoresort, using responsibly and locally sourced materials, recycling their water, and using natural water in the pools.  Our package included breakfast, which was so generously-portioned that we often had difficulty finishing our meals.  The juice was as fresh as it gets, and you have the great pleasure of dining in the shade on the beach.  

Since we were there during the shoulder season, our other dining options were limited, but I was able to scope out a cute little open-air spot called Hartwood.  These ex-pats weren’t kidding around with their set-up: former New Yorkers with outstanding kitchen provenances, sourcing local ingredients, and cooking everything over or under fire.  We were communing.  It was delicious and pricey.  Still, we tried to go back, but they were closed (see aforementioned shoulder season).   Another spot turned out to be a dud, so we stuck it out with the Be Tulum restaurant, which turned out decent food. May I recommend one of their several ceviches, delivered to you wherever you might find yourself comfortably lounging.  

Credit: Bon Appetit

The beach days were spent reading and lounging ocean side in the morning, then poolside- either the common pool or the one on our private roof deck- with healthy doses of local mezcal and tequila in the afternoon.  It was quiet and peaceful, with plenty of time to sit quietly and reflect on the close of winter and the beginning of spring.