I have learned, time and time again, that the best way to move forward in life is to allow yourself to take a long pause before you decide on your next move ahead. Ensuring your decision is not based on some reaction from emotion or ego, but one that is clear, grounded, and not too headstrong. The most important thing to keep in mind while you are in this figuring phase, though, is to have some patience (so hard for me) and trust that the road you are on will eventually lead you to the clarity you seek. This process will most likely (and annoyingly) take some time, so try to get comfortable in the discomfort. Try to embrace that shit. Honor the process and be a non-judgmental witness to your past (impossible!). And remember, no matter how many struggles or defeats you've had (many), no matter what you liked or didn't like or what you wished you would have changed or didn't do. Try not to lose sight of the lessons you've learned along the way from those past decisions. Seek out those habitual patterns you do that you don't like and let them go, leaving your drama behind so you can move swiftly into your path ahead. Oh, and sometimes the answer you receive will surprise and challenge you too (the best). Sometimes it is the last thing you thought you wanted to do. I mean, seriously, never imagined doing. Ok, you ready to hear our next adventure. Good. I am finally ready to tell you.

I was born and raised in LA into a family of successful musicians: my mom, a singer, my dad, a trumpet player. When I was young, they were superstars. Not to say they still aren't (sorry folks!), it's just that they aren't as current as they once were. Growing up around their fame was my reality. It was the only life I knew. And, if you must know, that life was always uncomfortable for me. I felt, from a young age, the falsity and emptiness that ensued from most of the privileged people that I knew all around me. They all seemed to share a sadness, a longing for plastic perfection and a deeper connection that money and fame couldn’t fix.

This year has blown by in a thick haze of WTF. I honestly can't think of a better way to express it. We have all been in this pandemic for so long and have witnessed the endless stream of catastrophic events that this year has just been too damn much to process. I almost can't even remember what life was like before. You remember it right? How carefree we all were. Hugging each other, sharing meals, kids playing with their friends, school drop-offs, freely hanging out indoors and out, seeing our elders, shopping for food without protective coverings. I could go on, but you already know.

I started writing this book about nine years ago. At the time, I was a newly pregnant actress living in Brooklyn who always loved to cook and write. I figured I would take the time to focus on those two other passions of mine, while I was pregnant and taking a break from acting. I thought I wanted to just write a straight-ahead cookbook. But, once I began writing, I started to naturally incorporate my journey through my pregnancy into the book's narrative as it was a complete reflection of what I was craving, creating, cooking, and experiencing. My pregnant desires may have been the inspiration for the recipes (and narrative) of the book, but they are a reflection of how I always cook, whether pregnant or not. They are seasonal, rustic, healthful, whole grain, unrefined-sweetened, and will benefit anyone desiring that kind of nourishment.

I've been reflecting lately on my life before I had children, which is almost unimaginable now, but it was, in fact, true (I think). And, more to the point, in that childless life of mine, almost a decade ago, I was an actress.

Writing has always been a solace. A reflection. A grounding. A way for me to figure out what might be going on within. When I step away from it for too long, I feel unsettled and out of sorts. The same is true with cooking. If I am not creating or baking something in the kitchen, I don't feel right.

It may take a few days or even weeks of feeling uninspired to realize that I am feeling this way because I am not doing the very things that inspire and ground me. Which makes that shit tricky to get yourself up and out of.