I say this without a hint of hyperbole: Avra may have the most irresistible lunch special in Manhattan. And at $42? Mi amor, that is what one might call an exceedingly good plot twist.

Let me begin with the service, which is so polished, so intuitive, and so impeccably choreographed that one half expects a Michelin inspector to emerge from behind a potted olive tree. There is an effortless elegance to the experience, the sort that makes you feel not merely well-fed, but wonderfully looked after.

Then, of course, there is the food. Avra’s Mediterranean cuisine is a love letter to simplicity done extraordinarily well, allowing pristine ingredients to speak for themselves. The branzino, in particular, deserves its own paragraph of praise. Impossibly fresh, delicately prepared, and so tender it practically dissolves on the tongue. It is the sort of dish that inspires a person to put down their phone, abandon conversation, and simply pay attention. Even dessert refuses to be an afterthought. The orange filo cake is a fragrant, delectable finale, bright with citrus and altogether difficult to forget.

And the setting? Expansive, elegant, and thoroughly beautiful, Avra possesses the kind of aesthetic grandeur that makes even an ordinary Tuesday feel faintly cinematic. It is luxurious without being remotely shy about it, a room designed for lingering, indulging, and perhaps ordering just one more thing.

Now, here is where the story becomes particularly delicious; the weekday lunch special is just $42. Forty-two fucking dollars. And that includes an experience that feels considerably more extravagant than the price suggests.

In a city where lunch can cost a small fortune and deliver very little in return, Avra offers something increasingly rare..genuine indulgence that feels worth every bite.

So, consider this your sign. Book the reservation. Bring your appetite. Order the branzino. Save room for the orange cake.

And do make that resy sooner rather than later because people have a way of discovering a good thing and once they do, getting a table can become an entirely different story. Carpe diem!

Fish Cheeks is the kind of restaurant you’re tempted to gatekeep, not because you don’t want others to experience it, but because you selfishly want every visit to feel as revelatory as the first. Tucked into the city’s ever evolving NoHo dining scene, this Thai gem serves the sort of food that makes you slow down, savor every bite, and quietly resent the fact that the plate is, inevitably, finite.

The menu is a study in the irresistible: bold, bright, deeply aromatic, and unapologetically delicious. I’m particularly devoted to the steamed fish with Thai herbs, a dish so fragrant and delicately layered that ordering it feels less like a choice and more like an obligation. Then there’s the sautéed cabbage with garlic and fish sauce, a seemingly humble dish that somehow steals the spotlight. It’s so good that I’ve been known to order an extra portion to go, because some pleasures are simply too good to leave behind.

Truthfully, it’s difficult to go wrong here. The menu invites a little culinary curiosity, a willingness to venture beyond your usual order and let your palate be seduced. Come hungry, order generously, and resist the urge to play it safe. The pleasure is in discovering which dishes will become your own personal obsessions.

The atmosphere is effortlessly cool without trying too hard, and the service strikes that sweet spot between attentive and relaxed.

Fish Cheeks is the rare restaurant that makes you want to tell everyone about it and no one about it in the same breath. If it isn’t on your list yet, consider this your sign. After all, your next favorite restaurant isn’t going to discover itself.😉

One of my best friends was a hospice nurse for more than fifteen years. Over the course of her career, she cared for thousands of patients, people who occupied virtually every rung of the socioeconomic ladder, from those living barely above minimum wage to people with fortunes most of us can only conceptualize as numbers. She told me something I have never forgotten. Hospice, she said, has a way of making people extraordinarily honest. In the intimacy of those final days and weeks, patients would tell her things they had never told anyone else. Secrets. Regrets. Old loves. Family dramas. The things they were proud of and the things they wished they had done differently. All the carefully maintained mythology of a life seemed to fall away.

And across all those conversations, she noticed a striking consistency: not one person ever told her that work had been the best part of their life. Not one said they wished they had spent more time at the office. Not one told her they were going to miss the money.

What they talked about were people. Their spouses. Their children. Their siblings. Their friends. The ridiculous vacations. The dinners that lasted too long. The birthdays. The inside jokes. The person who showed up when everything was falling apart. The memories that, in retrospect, had somehow turned out to be the whole point.

And then there was the other side of it. When death was no longer theoretical, their regrets were often about relationships, too. The friend they stopped calling. The family member they never forgave over something that, in the end, seemed embarrassingly small. The people they loved but kept postponing. The relationships that deserved more time, more attention, more grace. It is difficult to hear something like that and not wonder what, exactly, we think we are doing here.

People need people. Full stop. Nearly everything meaningful in our lives is mediated through relationships. Which is why I find our conversations about money and friendship so strange sometimes.

I don't believe wealthy people owe everyone access to their wealth. They don't. No one is entitled to another person's money simply because they have it. If someone wants to establish boundaries around their finances, that is their prerogative. But if that's my best friend? And I happen to have a level of wealth where paying for something meaningful to them is genuinely inconsequential? My bestie ain’t paying for shit. Ever. And, honestly, what's the point of having it all if you can't occasionally use some of it to make life better for the people you love?

I think part of the disconnect is that some people genuinely don't grasp how much a billion dollars is. And part of it, perhaps more sadly, is that some people don't have friendships they experience as priceless.

There is a peculiar tendency to interpret generosity toward the people closest to us as entitlement. Someone asks for help, or accepts an expensive gesture from a wealthy friend, and suddenly we're conducting a courtroom proceeding about boundaries and personal responsibility.

But there is another possibility: maybe sometimes you're simply being generous with your people. Not because they demanded it. Not because they are owed it.

Because you love them.

We have no trouble understanding this concept when the gesture is small. We bring a friend soup when they're sick. We pick someone up from the airport. We cover dinner. We send flowers. We make room on the couch. At some point, though, money gets large enough that we start treating generosity as a moral hazard. And I find that fascinating AF.

People will passionately argue that billionaires should use their wealth to address enormous social problems, including homelessness. They will praise enormous charitable gifts. They will debate philanthropy, tax deductions, legacy, public good, and the responsibilities that come with extraordinary wealth. But then, somehow, the moral calculus can become strangely rigid when the person benefiting is someone you actually know. Why?

If we are going to invoke the phrase "it takes a village," shouldn't that principle begin with the village? And to be clear, I am not talking about your greedy auntie who somehow needs you to sponsor her new lifestyle. I'm talking about your people. Your tribe. The friends who were doing fucking somersaults of celebration every time something good happened to you. The ones who checked on you when things went sideways, personally or professionally. The people whose names you can't wait to text when you have good news because their excitement for you is almost as satisfying as the news itself. The people you know you would be absolutely gutted to lose if they die today.

So I keep coming back to the first-class ticket. Why are we debating whether someone we supposedly love is "worth" paying for when we can afford it? Maybe it's the last trip you take together. Maybe it's one of those stupid, perfect weekends you will talk about for twenty years. Maybe it's a memory that becomes disproportionately precious because, years later, neither of you can travel the way you once could. Maybe nothing dramatic happens at all. Maybe you just sit next to each other on an airplane, drink something overpriced, laugh about something completely unimportant, and arrive somewhere together.

And maybe that is precisely the point. We spend an astonishing amount of our lives accumulating things that are supposed to make life meaningful, only to discover, usually much later than we'd prefer, that meaning was never hiding in the accumulation. It was in the people.

So if you are fortunate enough to have more than you need, and fortunate enough to have people you genuinely love, perhaps generosity toward them isn't some failure of boundaries or an invitation to entitlement. Perhaps sometimes it is simply love, translated into a currency that happens to be useful.

Because eventually, according to my favorite hospice nurse who has spent years listening to people at the end of their lives, the balance sheet gets very simple. You don't miss the money. You miss the people.

And if we're lucky, we get to spend some of what we accumulated making sure we had a life with them worth remembering.

As a culinary instructor teaching kids how to cook, one of my favorite things is watching them light up over a recipe they can actually recreate at home. And these brown butter vanilla pancakes? They are OBSESSED. Like, plates-clean, asking-for-seconds, “can we make these again next class?” obsessed. They’re cozy, fluffy, smell like a dream, and honestly make the whole kitchen feel like a soft Sunday morning playlist.

With Mother’s Day coming up, I had to share in case you want to whip up something special for Mom, wifey, new boo, the kids, your favorite person… or yourself, because self-care can absolutely look like pancakes and peace.

If you make them, let me know in the comments. Wishing everyone a beautiful weekend ✨

Chef Rey’s Brown Butter Vanilla Pancakes

(This recipe makes 8 decadent pancakes. Use half of each ingredient for 4 pancakes.)

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 2 tbsp granulated sugar

• 2 tsp baking powder

• 1/2 tsp baking soda

• 1/2 tsp table salt

• 2 cups low fat buttermilk, plus more if needed

• 2 large eggs

• 4 tsp vanilla extract

• 6 tbsp salted butter

• butter to coat your griddle or skillet

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Melt salted butter on low heat until it browns then remove from heat.

2. Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in bowl to combine.

3. Whisk egg, vanilla and melted butter into the buttermilk until combined. Make well in center of dry ingredients in bowl; pour in buttermilk mixture and whisk very gently until just combined. Do not over mix. Allow batter to sit for about 5 minutes. Batter will be very thick, but if it’s too thick to work with, gently stir in a little more buttermilk. It should be thick and lumpy but not dough like.

4. Heat nonstick skillet over medium heat for 3 minutes; add 1 teaspoon butter and brush to coat skillet bottom evenly. If using an electric griddle, you can set the heat between 350 and 400 degrees. Pour or scoop batter onto your skillet or griddle and spread out if needed with the back of a ladle or spoon to flatten. Cook pancakes until bubbles begin to appear and edges begin to set, 1 1/2 to 3 minutes. Using thin, wide spatula, flip pancakes and cook until golden brown on second side, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes longer.

5. Serve immediately with the most divine warm maple syrup you can find. Bon appétit!😋 🥞

Just like you hit a workout for your body, your mind and spirit deserve their own little glow-up routine too. And no, it doesn’t have to be intense or scream “ultra disciplined morning routine.” We’re going for soft, effective, confident, grounded, quietly thriving energy.

Here’s what I actually do on a regular basis that’s been low-key kinda life changing:

1. Meditation (but make it your version): I fully respect the traditional “sit still and clear your mind” approach but that’s not always how my brain works. If anything, I can get too deep in my thoughts. So my favorite kind of meditation? The kind that moves with me.

Think: painting, coloring (yes, like when you were a kid..tap back in), stretching, or going for a slow early morning walk with no pressure. I also start every day with journaling, which is my personal go-to and honestly sets the tone for everything.

The goal isn’t to force yourself into some perfect routine, it’s to keep it simple and make it feel like YOU. You’ll get way more out of something that feels natural than something that feels like you’re performing wellness.

And if guided meditation is your thing, there are so many gems on YouTube. Trust me, you will know when you find the one that clicks for you.

2. EFT Tapping (yes, we’re tapping on our faces and yes it works) If you’ve never tried Emotional Freedom Technique, welcome to your new obsession. It looks a little unhinged but the emotional release?? Unreal. I absolutely love Brad Yates on YouTube! He keeps it super easy, no overthinking, just follow along and tap with him. It’s giving therapy, but make it DIY and free. Your nervous system will be completely smitten.🥰

3. Reading (feed your brain something other than chaos) Reading is literally nourishment. Like soul-level skincare. Find books that actually hit for you. The ones that shift your perspective, expand you, make you feel a little more powerful. We’re curating a mind, not just consuming content.

4. Gratitude + brain dump (the emotional detox ritual) I always do a gratitude list because, cliché but true: what you appreciate does appreciate. You focus on the good, and suddenly there’s more good. Funny how that works.

But also, write your messy thoughts out. All of them. No editing, no filtering. Like you’re voice-noting your most trusted friend at 2am. Get it out of your body and onto paper. Then mentally hand it over to something bigger than you (God, the universe, whatever you believe in) and let it be handled. You don’t need to micromanage everything. You’re allowed to be supported. Relax.

5.Music (your instant mood alchemist) Music is honestly the fastest way I know to come back to yourself. It bypasses the overthinking, the spiraling, the “what is my life” energy and drops you straight into a different frequency. One song can shift your entire nervous system. That’s not dramatic, that’s science and a little bit of magic.

I’m very intentional about what I listen to. My playlists are basically curated energy. If I need a reset, I press play and let the music do its thing. Think Optimistic(Sounds of Blackness) Closer(Goapele)..you get the idea. Songs that don’t just sound good, they feel like expansion, like possibility, like everything is already working out for me. Create a playlist for when you need that vibrational re-up. And it can be any genre. I have hip-hop and dancehall playlists for this purpose as well so don’t confine yours to what everyone else perceives as high vibe chunes.

The ultimate goal? Use music to decide how you want to feel and then let it carry you there. Because if it’s not making you feel like the main character, gliding through life a little softer, a little richer, a little more in love with everything…we’re not pressing repeat.

You ever hear that line, “Move with the confidence of a mediocre white man”? The idea that you can be aggressively average and still land on your feet, maybe even fail up?

Yeah. Turns out that energy isn’t exclusive.

In most of my work endeavors I’ve operated on the “excellence or nothing” plan. Overdeliver. Outperform. Outshine. I genuinely believed the formula was simple: go above and beyond and you’ll be met with the oohs and ahhs, the promotion, the pay bump, the gold star of validation. Effort in, reward out. Clean math.

Except… not quite.

Today my supervisor texted me asking if I could sub for a “challenging” class while a newbie gets to teach my beloved class. Naturally, I asked why the newbie couldn’t step in. His response? He needed someone he could trust. Someone who’s good at what they do.

On paper, that’s a compliment. In practice, it felt backhanded. Like my competence just volunteered me for the hard stuff… again. I do the heavy lifting, someone else gets the lighter load (and the easier win). Where’s the ROI on excellence? Because at this point, the math is mathing a little sideways.

And it’s not the first time.

For a second, I wondered if maybe I just have terrible luck when it comes to catching even the smallest break. But then I started thinking about the “nice” people, the ones who are endlessly generous, always available, perpetually dependable. The moment they say no, it’s scandalous. How dare they have boundaries?

Meanwhile, I’ve had moments where I’ve been, hmm, let’s say, selectively warm. A little edge, a little firmness, just a sprinkle of “don’t play with me.” And somehow? Applause. Respect. Elevated. Put on a throne for doing far less.

So now I’m sitting with this uncomfortable but intriguing theory: maybe being exceptional all the time isn’t the flex we think it is. Maybe strategic average with a curated dose of restraint is part of the “work smart” manifesto they’ve been talking about.

Because if excellence keeps assigning you the hardest class in the building, maybe the real power move isn’t doing more.

Maybe it’s doing just enough..and letting that be enough.

The other day I saw someone genuinely upset because a close friend didn’t “like” their Instagram story.

Not comment. Not text them. Not start a group chat investigation. Just didn’t tap the tiny little heart.

And what followed was a full-blown courtroom drama about the friendship. Loyalty was questioned. Motives were analyzed. Emotional subpoenas were issued. The whole shebang.

Somehow we’ve reached a point where a missing “like” feels like betrayal. Like we’re all running a silent friendship loyalty program. Now don’t get me wrong, jealous people exist. Haters exist. Some people absolutely root against others. But the uncomfortable truth? Most of the time people aren’t hating on you.

They’re just busy.

They’re working. They’re thinking about their own problems. They’re doomscrolling like the rest of us. They saw your post and kept moving. Or the algorithm yeeted it into the digital abyss and they never saw it at all.

But somewhere along the way social media convinced us that likes are signals of loyalty. Like they’re some kind of friendship scoreboard. We say we don’t care about likes but then suddenly we’re auditing our relationships like “Hmmm. Interesting…you watched my story(or post) but didn’t like it. Noted.”

That’s the ego trap.

We’ve started using “likes” as a Richter scale to measure the strength of relationships that were never meant to be measured that way. Meanwhile, one of the most underrated life hacks still exists: actually TALKING to your friends(wild concept, I know). If something genuinely bothers you, ask them. Tell them. And not via a rebuttal post where you’re subbing them. Direct communication.

Because I promise you most of the time they have absolutely no idea you’re sitting there building a Netflix documentary in your head about their motives.

And here’s another truth people don’t love hearing:

Nobody gives a fuck about what you post as much as you think they do.

Not because they’re bad people.

But because they’re human.

They’re thinking about themselves, the exact same way you are.

We all want to be seen. We all want to be heard. We all want to be loved.

That craving isn’t embarrassing, it’s part of being alive. But you’re not at the epicenter of everyone else’s mental universe. Even when people do hate(and yes, sometimes they do) it’s rarely personal. Most of the time it’s just a reflection of their own frustrations, their own insecurities, the little story of lack they’re telling themselves.

Seeing someone move forward can trigger the parts of them that feel stuck. And lowkey sometimes your “haters” are actually your biggest fans. They’re watching every move like it’s a season finale. But even then, it’s still about them.

What other people think about you is none of your business. So put the blinders on and redirect your focus on building the life you actually want, how it looks, how it feels, the direction you’re moving in. And most importantly, focus on YOUR people. You know who they are.

Because life is pretty meaningless without your tribe.

The people who feel safe. The people you trust. The people whose intentions you never have to cross-examine.

Those are the relationships that matter.

And I promise you…

They run a lot deeper than a like button.

When I was eight, my mom handed my sister and me her issues of Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and Elleplus two pens and told us to check off whatever we loved.

“That,” she said, “is shopping.”

We were obsessed. Page after glossy page of couture, diamonds, and editorial spreads we couldn’t pronounce but fully claimed in our imaginations. That was the spark. The beginning of a full-blown magazine love affair.

Soon, magazine subscriptions joined Barbie dolls and bikes on my holiday wish list. By ten, already loyal to nonfiction books and now deeply devoted to glossies, I confidently declared writing as my calling. No backup plan. Just ink and intention.

Fast-forward eleven years. I’m a college senior, packing up my apartment before graduation, when my roommate and I open the coat closet and it avalanches. Hundreds of magazines. A three year archive of inspiration. We’re talking The Source, Vibe, Sista 2 Sista, Essence, Jet, Ebony, Shape, Fitness, a full spectrum of culture, style, music, wellness, and Black excellence.

It wasn’t hoarding. It was research. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

After graduation, I moved back to New York laser focused on writing for a magazine. I pitched the major publishers the old school way, handwritten letters, bold phone calls, pure audacity. The answer? No. Across the board. No clips. No copywriting experience. No thanks.

Then one random afternoon, standing in a corner store scanning the magazine rack, I saw Honey magazine, founded by Kierna Mayo and Joicelyn Dingle.

Instant infatuation.

Honey wasn’t just a magazine. It was a vibe. A mirror. A love letter to contemporary Black women..our style, our ambition, our culture. It amplified voices, forecasted fashion, interviewed music icons, and centered empowerment before that word became corporate branding. Every issue felt like possibility.

I devoured it. I studied it. I pictured my byline in it.

And just when I decided I would write for them, the Universe started winking. A friend of mine was Kierna’s neighbor. I was geeked. Manifestation energy on 100.

A meeting was set. I typed up article pitches, printed them out, got my hair done. I was ready baby!

Then plot twist.

The day before the meeting, my friend arrived with the news: Kierna and Joicelyn were no longer with the magazine they created. They had walked away after being offered what they felt was a lowball deal, stripped of titles, stripped of ownership recognition, stripped of the very foundation they built.

And just like that, I was back at square one.

The rejections. The near-misses. The “almost.” It all made me question whether writing was really in my future.

But here’s the thing about calling, it doesn’t clock out just because you’re discouraged.

I went on to self-publish three books. I wrote articles for various platforms. A TV series. Music biopics. And I write every single day. No applause required. No permission slip needed.

So why am I telling you this?

Because here’s what the journey taught me:

1. Fall in love with your work. Whatever path you decide on will take up a huge portion of your life. The only way it feels fulfilling is if you believe you’re doing meaningful work. And the only way to do meaningful work is to genuinely love what you do. Passion isn’t extra, it’s essential.

2. Alignment is always in progress.

Trusting your gut when pursuing what you love is less about impulse and more about alignment. Intuition is informed instinct. It synthesizes your experiences, values, and quiet convictions long before external proof arrives. It’s self-trust with range, discernment with depth. Trust your intuition.

3. Don’t settle. If you haven’t found the thing yet, keep looking. When it’s right, you’ll know. It won’t feel forced. It will feel expansive. And if you water it with love, it deepens over time.

4. Remember you’re mortal. It sounds dramatic, but it’s clarifying. When you remember your time is limited, you stop playing small. You stop clinging to “safe.” You realize you were never as boxed in as you thought.

5. Don’t live someone else’s script. Other people’s opinions are loud. Society’s expectations are louder. But your inner voice? That’s the compass. Follow it. It already knows who you’re meant to become.

Everything else is just noise.

From an eight-year-old circling couture in Vogue to a grown woman building her own literary lane, the throughline has always been love for the craft.

And if there’s one thing I know for sure?

When you bet on your calling long enough, eventually it bets on you.

When I was 19, I was introduced to The Artist Way by Julia Cameron. In this book she explains 3 practices that unlocked her creativity and allowed her permission to unleash her most authentic self. 1) Daily Morning Pages 2) Weekly Artist Date 3) Daily 20 minute walks.

Although I’ve completed the 12 week guide, the only one that’s never left me is the morning pages. Morning pages is basically writing 3 pages of unfiltered, stream of consciousness thoughts in a journal each day. Write about anything you’re thinking and feeling. And if you’re like me, who has 5011 mental tabs simultaneously open and eager for attention, what you write will be all over the place, as it should be. Do not reread or edit or write as if someone will read your journal. This is your own personal writing room, uncensored. Go tf awffff!!! Write your complaints, inspirations, regrets, joys, anxieties, write about your secret crush or something you desire but are scared you’ll be judged for if you say it out loud. This is your space, baby. You will cultivate aspects of yourself beyond your creativity and experience the magic of the morning pages.

I still write every single AM supported by a cup of piping hot coffee. It’s my healthiest addiction, lol. It has been so integral in maintaining my mental health and also discovering new ideas. Although it’s not a replacement for therapy, it has provided me with such a safe space to unpack my shit. And baby, we’ve been through some thangs over the years. It also gives me a daily platform to highlight everyone and everything I am grateful for. A home to house my blessings and question my theories on life. Writing my morning pages lets me think critically and consider constructive solutions. It adds depth to the ordinary and inspires me to view all possibilities. It reminds me that I am limitless and that creative wellness is everyone’s birthright.

I encourage you to try it, if you are interested. I guarantee that you will experience an intrinsic difference in your life. All you need is a pen and paper. I use journals or drawing pads. I know a lot of us use tools like Notes as opposed to the old school way of writing cursive or print but there is actually unspoken enchantment in writing your morning pages with pen or pencil.

If you would like to begin reading The Artist Way today, click here for the PDF.

Keep shining, super stars✨

Raoul’s isn’t just a restaurant, it’s a reminder that dining out can still feel like falling in love. Nestled in the heart of SoHo, the moment you step inside, you’re transported to a Parisian bistro, where the lighting is flatteringly dim, the wine flows generously and it’s just effortlessly cool without trying. The kind of place that makes you want to order a bottle of Bordeaux and get swept away by a stranger over steak au poivre. And that steak? Babyyy it’s not just good, it’s ruthlessly good. Pepper-crusted perfection, rich cognac sauce, and fries so crisp they could double as ASMR. The rest of the menu goes just as hard. Their burgers are a cult obsession. Truly one of the best burgers I’ve ever had. It comes on a lightly toasted challah bun topped with triple-cream Saint-André cheese garnished with watercress, slivered onions, cornichons and a side of their decadent cognac infused cream au poivre sauce. Even the simplest dishes like the frisée salad with poached egg, pistachio and bacon hit harder than they have any right to. If you’re not a meat eater, you will not experience FOMO because everything on their menu is memorable. Like the roast goat cheese ravioli made with brown butter, crispy shallots and the finest herbs, simply divine. The crème brûlée and bread pudding for dessert are a MUST.

And it’s not just the food. Raoul’s has that seductive, late-night magic that makes you want to cancel tomorrow's plans and just linger. You’re not just dining, you’re part of a timeless story. Whether you’re posted up at the bar sipping on a French 75 or tucked in a booth whispering secrets, Raoul’s gives you a hit of old school New York romanticism with every bite. It is the rare New York restaurant that doesn't chase relevance, it defines it. If you haven’t experienced Raoul’s yet, exactly what are you waiting for?

If wine could speak, red would whisper secrets of sun-drenched vineyards, oak barrels, and slow, unforgettable evenings. Whether you're a bold Cabernet lover, a silky Pinot sipper, or a fan of deep, moody Malbecs, this list isn’t just about bottles—it’s about experiences worth uncorking. Here's my handpicked list of red wines that have earned a permanent place in my glass—and maybe soon, in yours.

Pinot Noir:

All Under $50:

Belle Glos

Orin Swift Slander

The Calling

Juggernaut

Boen

La Crema

Cabernet Sauvignon

Under $50:

Hardin

Educated Guess

Juggernaut

Over $50:

Orin Swift Palermo

Austin Hope

Jayson Cabernet Sauvignon

Orin Swift Mercury Head

Red Blends

Under $50:

The Prisoner

Orin Swift Abstract

Conundrum

Caymus Suisun Grand Durif

Cooper & Thief Red Blend

Over $50:

Marion Amarone della Valpolicella

Chateau Neuf Du Pape(any)

Malbec

All Under $50:

Luca Malbec

Catena

Hermandad

Zinfandel

All Under $50:

Turley Wine Cellars Juvenile Zinfandel

Saldo Zinfandel

1000 Stories Bourbon Barrel Aged Zin

Merlot

All Under $50:

Thorn Merlot

Duckhorn Merlot

Stag’s Leap

I strongly suggest to always chill your reds for 15-20 minutes and decant for 20-30 minutes(except for Cabs and Malbecs, 1 hour) prior to pouring. Aerating your wine enhances the flavor, texture and aroma. Exposing your wine to oxygen helps in removing sediments and opening up the wine. If you are in a setting where you are served by glass, a few swirls can substitute for a casual decanting.

Cheers🍷

As a New Yorker, having access to the best pizzerias in the world is such an underrated privilege. Although I have not tried every pizza spot, I do have a few faves that I’ll share. Let me know in the comments where your favorite spot to grab a slice is.

Margherita Pizza: Margherita’s has had the same consistently amazing slices since my friends and I used to hang out on the Ave in high school. The crust is perfectly crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, with a golden-brown finish. The tangy tomato sauce has just the right amount of herbs, and the cheese—fadda gawd—it’s melty, gooey, and divinely flavored. Their plain slice really hits all the right notes.

Lucia Pizza: Located in Flushing, in my opinion, one of the most underrated slices in NYC. The pizza is straight-up addictive. The crust has that perfect crunch, the cheese pulls go on for miles, and every bite bursts with bold, mouthwatering flavor. Warning: One slice is never enough. It’s so delectable I’m surprised it’s not on more best pizza in NYC lists.

Prince Street Pizza: This spot has turned into a tourist pit stop over the years yet still maintains their succulent spicy square which is their signature Sicilian with Ezzo pepperoni. It truly is thee best pepperoni slice in NYC. I, personally, am also a fan of their vodka slice as well.

New Park Pizza: This pizzeria was the one you HAD to stop by on the way back home from Rockaway beach. The brick-oven slices check off all the boxes for a perfectly divine slice after a long day of sunbathing.

Fini Pizza: I’m so particular about specialty slices but I promise you will fall for their white slice made with fontina, Parmesan, mozzarella and lemon zest(and a wedge of lemon for a lil razzle dazzle). It’s completely unexpected yet decadently delicious.

L’Industrie Pizzeria: Heralded by many as the best pizza in NYC. Not in my personal top 5 but still great pizza. Perfectly crisp, savory gourmet slices with a super thin, pleasantly crunchy crust. Each ingredient plays its part without overwhelming the others. Drizzles of hot honey are also suggested.  Definitely worth checking out if you’re looking to try something different.

Iavarone Kitchen + Pizzeria: I love their specialty Italian market, Iavarone Brothers, so when my sister and I discovered their pizza, it was love at first bite. I really enjoyed all the slices I’ve had there especially the margarita slice and the mushroom spinach slice.

Special Mention: Although they only sell pies at John’s of Bleecker Street, it’s worth checking out if you’ve never been. A pizza that doesn’t just fill you up — it leaves a memory; classic old NY style pizza and one of the best you’ll ever try.

Plumpjack Oakville Estate Cabernet Sauvignon: Outstanding, top tier full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon, gracefully structured with racy acidity and flavors of dark stone fruits, boysenberries, vanilla, sage, baking spice and a bit of chocolate for a little razzle dazzle. So smooth and velvety. Juicy AF! This wine is like someone you are physically attracted to who assertively approaches you: you cautiously like it yet once, and if, you warm up to them-you both hop on that pink cloud. Although a temporary phase, it feels great. So you say fuck it & seize the moment. After all, this is YOUR life. Cheers baby🍷

When I first saw James Beard Award winner, Kwame Onwuachi’s restaurant, Tatiana listed as best new restaurant in America, the skeptic in me was vastly intrigued. I NEEDED to find out what all the commotion was to dining at one of the most hard to get reservations in NY. The veil was about to be lifted.

Tatiana is named after Kwame’s older sister who is his culinary muse and was his caretaker in his youth while their mother was at work. Combining fine dining with deeply personal storytelling, Tatiana offers a vibrant, elegant twist inspired by Kwame’s Bronx upbringing, Nigerian heritage and Caribbean roots. It isn’t just about food; it’s about Black excellence and cultural reclamation.

But back to the food. We ordered dishes that are meant to be shared plates. We started with the mouthwatering curried goat patties. Now I’m going to be honest, I was like why the fuck are 3 empanada style patties $26? Until I sunk my teeth into the perfect flaky pastry filled goat and beef combo paired with mango chutney and a creamy green aioli..my mouth went into a full on oral orgasm. Best patties I’ve ever had.

Next up as starters we were graced with the cornbread and cod, the jerk lamb rib, crispy okra and the hamachi escovitch. Incredible is an understatement. I was super turned on by how insanely amazing each of these dishes were. Even something as simple as crispy okra was absolutely delectable.

For the large shared plates, we feasted on the fried branzino, Mom Duke’s shrimp, braised oxtail with rice and peas and takeout mushroom. All were exquisite and flavorful, however, although I’m a huge mushroom lover, the takeout mushroom was my least favorite dish.

For dessert we had the golden rum cake with blistered gooseberries. Delish.

And last but not least, the cocktails were perfectly curated. We abundantly ordered refreshing spicy margaritas and decadent French 75s.

Oh and the music was mostly a medley of the crème de la crème of 90s/early 2000s R&B, hip hop and neo-soul. Completely complimented and elevated the vibe, creating an even sexier ambiance. Check out Kwame’s playlist here.

Overall, such an ineffable multi-sensory experience!

Have you gone to Tatiana’s yet? If so, what was your experience? If not and you’ve been wanting to, let me know in the comments if you need help getting a resy.

Summer in NY is not only lit in NYC. If you are a wine lover, the Hamptons is your oasis. Filled with many beautiful vineyards, whether you go for the day or a few days, the oenophile in you will feel like you are in the perfect playground.

Below are a few vineyards I love to go to every year for summer wines. This list is also curated because they are each in a very short driving range from each other which make navigating while enjoying more seamless. Add this to your list of fun things to do this summer and let me know in the comments which one you loved the most.

1. Rose Hill Vineyards: I’m in love with this vineyard. The wine, the charcuterie boards, the atmosphere, the service..all exceptional here. It’s such a vibe. Unpretentious elegance. You may want to make this your last stop because it’s so relaxing, it’s hard to leave. Sit outside if you can and if the weather permits.

2. Croteaux Vineyards: This is one of the most aesthetically charming vineyards. You feel like you’re nestled away in the south of France. Simply beautiful. The focus here is rosé. They only serve flights of rosé here so if that’s your thing, you’re in for a treat! Either way, it’s worth checking out.

3. Main & Mill House: This upscale winery is actually the sister tasting room to Rose Hill and Croteaux. Think cozy opulence. With its inerrant sophistication matched by their exceptional wine, you will love the atmosphere here. Also they are open year round with their lovely fireplace.

4. McCall Wines: This hidden gem has some of my favorite wines. It’s a rustic, unpretentious yet amazing winery with limited outdoor seating of old school picnic tables oozing of rustic charm. If you are a red wine enthusiast, you’ll find your happy place here(Ben’s Blend is a MUST try!). They also host Burger Nights on Thursdays & Fridays until October with delicious chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

5. The Halyard Restaurant: After all that decadent wine you’re sure to be hungry. With the stunning views and excellent food, this restaurant experience is truly exceptional. Definitely make a reservation because they don’t take walk-ins.

Wishing you all a beautiful, easy, breezy summer💛

Tequila Alert: I found my new favorite tequila at my favorite wine and liquor store, Rego Park Wines & Liquors in Queens. Tequila Cayeya Reposado. This luxuriously smooth tequila crafted from single barrel agave and cooked in brick ovens is virtually perfect. Distinctively rich with subtle notes of vanilla and hints of chamomile make each sip divine! And baby you will NOT wake up with a hangover. You can enjoy it neat or make a mouthwatering reposado margarita. What more can I say except to try it. Oh and it’s only $39.99. Win/win! Click here to purchase and get $10 off.

One of my favorite happy hour spots for margaritas in the city is Maya Restaurant. I love it because whether you prefer on the rocks or frozen, their margaritas are excellent and so refreshing. I’m typically a classic margarita gal but they have such delicious mango margaritas, I highly recommend trying that if you’re into fruity flavors or the spicy if you like more zest. In addition to that, they also have tasty happy hour bites. I love the tuna ceviche and chicken flautas. Another highlight is that happy hour is every single day. Click here for their menu and more details.

What’s your favorite tequila? What’s your favorite happy hour spot? Let me know in the comments🍹

One thing I love about summer in NY is the option to do either outdoor or indoor brunch. I have a bunch of NYC restaurants I’ll be sharing here because iykyk I never gate keep when it comes to sharing my fave spots.

First up are two restaurants that I fancy for a weekend or weekday brunch:

Buvette, pictured above, blends classic French cuisine with a super chill Parisian bistro vibe. This charming little restaurant serves a menu of elevated fare using high quality butter, cheeses, meats and seasonal produce. Order a few items from the menu for a perfect mix of indulgence. Ideally, sit outside because I almost guarantee you’ll want to linger for a few hours in the cozy, unpretentious elegance that’s perfect for lengthy conversations while people watching.

The Crosby Bar & Terrace is a luxurious, art-filled restaurant nestled inside the Crosby Street Hotel. You’ll feel like you’re in a sleek, stylishly eclectic SoHo gallery; the swoon worthy ambiance you didn’t know you needed. I love a great mixologist and if you drink, you’ll truly appreciate their well-crated, perfectly executed cocktails. As for the food, the menu is American/European made with seasonal ingredients from their rooftop garden. Again, I love ordering a few items to share. So far, I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve tried here. Also if you are a tea enthusiast, they are known for their Afternoon Tea option which includes a variety of teas, savory and sweet bites finished with a glass of Veuve Cliquot rosé.

Even if you go there just to sit at the bar for a quick drink, it’s worth checking out.

What’s your favorite brunch spot in NYC? Let me know in the comments. Have a beautiful weekend!

I really enjoyed this Jaqueline Leonne rosé. It’s an NV sparkling wine from New Mexico with aromas of golden raspberry creaminess. On the palate this lush wine delivers flavors of juicy, fresh picked strawberries sprinkled with blood orange zest. It’s crisp, vibrant and for $17.99 a bottle, it tastes like it’s worth 3x the price. The perfect summer sipper!

Food Pairings: Fish, light salads, charcuterie boards

I didn’t want to like this book. But I did.

Anyone who knows me knows that since my teens I’ve been a self-help/personal Improvement/new age book aficionado. So it came as a surprise to me that I was so reluctant to indulge in this book. I saw Mel Robbins on an interview years prior when she was promoting her book, The 5 Second Rule, and for some reason I decided I didn’t care for her. That was until I inherited a free copy of her most recent book, The Let Them Theory, and thought I’d just check out what the hype was.

This book resonated with me in the most unexpected ways. It also presented tools for when shit hits the fan because it inevitably will. Each time I picked it up to resume reading, it reminded me that healing is truly your loyalty to yourself.

Also, in my opinion, it aligns perfectly with one of my favorite books, The Four Agreements. Let Them expands heavily on the second agreement which is, Don’t Take Anything Personally. Mel shares her own experiences in which she has implemented the theory and the challenges as well as how to move past them and thrive. I, myself, continue to engage in a tug-of-war with taking things personally. Some days it feels like I’m constantly being tested to prove to the Universe(well really myself) if I can choose peace over pain. Because if we’re being honest, most of our reactions to life fall under either category. We don’t even realize how seductive pain is because we’ve been domesticated to engage in power struggles that caress our egos. Our goal is to not have people play in our faces so we react to be seen and heard and hopefully validated.

It also helped me to realize my emotional immaturity and that in conflicts involving people I love, I operate in a childlike way in the attempt to get my way. Basically being a fuckin brat. Intellectually I know communication is important but because sometimes I have difficultly processing my emotions I’ll resort to punishing the other person by silencing them.

It’s definitely still a work in progress for me to NOT hold grudges. I want justice even in my personal relationships. Again, I’m hardwired to choose pain even though I say I desire peace and joy. But in the end we all know the truth doesn’t change things, decisions do.

Let me know in the comments if you’ve read this book and what your thoughts are. Also what is one of your favorite self-help/self-improvement books?

First, allow your griddle cakes to thaw out if they are frozen or you can also just refrigerate instead of freezing them. Heat(low-medium) up a pat of butter per griddle cake and pan sear on both sides until perfectly browned, about 2 minutes on each side. I pour syrup at the bottom of my bowl then add the pancake on top..😮‍💨!! The contrast of the soft fluffiness on the inside and the divine crispness on the outer layers will create the type of oral orgasm that sends your mouth into micro shivers! You can also air fry them but DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT put them in the microwave. Sink your fork into those beauties and experience all your worries melt away!

Let me know in the comments when or if you’ve tried these and if you fell head over heels in love at first bite.