So much good happened in May! We celebrated Mother’s Day, Nick WOKE UP, my parents were able to safely travel to LA, Todd came back and brought the whole family, and on top of all that – Paris ended quarantine.

Baking has always been a form of therapy for me. The quickest way to alleviate my stress is to put me in front of a Kitchen Aid mixer with a ton of sugar and butter.  It’s a difficult time for all of us. Most of us are battling some mix of worry, loneliness, and depression and that is okay. […]

What a loaded sentence. What happened in April could be an entire book. A sci-fi, horror novel for most of us. And, it seemed to have a million days, didn’t it? But, I’m a glass-half-full, smiley, optimistic type. There are always silver-linings and things to be thankful for, and tips to share. So here are my April highlights.

The three of us are together in the same house without spouses, jobs, or real lives for the first time in thirty years. We have little Elvis of course, and a sea of worries, anxiety, and fears revolving around Nick. But it’s just not in our DNA to be negative.

The fourth Stay-in Supper Club was the first in my new, temporary home in Laurel Canyon with my siblings as my dinner guests. Last Sunday I came to L.A. to spend the rest of quarantine with my sister and brother in L.A. We’re sheltering together to help Amanda as my brother-in-law, Nick Cordero, fights COVID […]

As we sat there, sipping wine and chatting, in our fabulous, fifties outfits, it dawned on me. We are the modern, blonde, Rose Weissman and Midge Maisel.

I’m a young, divorcee that has moved back in with my parents. My mother is tiny, adorable, and terribly worried about everything that I do and what my fate will be given my “unusual” lifestyle. I am subject, daily, to the eccentricities of my no-nonsense father, who is often kept in the dark about what my mom and I are up to. I have a career my parents don’t understand, and I often disappear for hours without explanation. My ex-husband is Jewish, and ex-in-laws live just down the street. I own an extensive collection of hats, and my mom has a closet of incredible dresses, shoes, and purses. All I’m missing is the two children and summers in the Catskills!

I’ve learned you bond with someone when you go through something tough and real together. When you see each other at your worst, not just your best, and like them anyway. When you realize that when the world is upside down, they are the kind of person that stays right-side up. When they have the ability to make you smile when there’s really no other reason to. When you experience, first-hand, that they are someone you can call, no matter the time, or day, when you are in need of sunshine and their voice is instant warmth. I think there’s a real chance that love found in the time of corona, could be the most real kind of love.

I’ve always had a thing for swimsuits. It goes back to when I was a baby. Check out my sisters and I in the summer of 1990. I’d kill for that ruffled-lace collar on a one-piece now! What I’ve learned from traveling is every beach destination has a different beach vibe. There are certain suits […]

I also realized eating solo every day meant “real” meals were in danger. Dinner could become a candy bar, or a jar of PB and a spoon because no one was going to know about it. In Paris, it was R&D to go to the city’s most charming and authentic restaurants. I dined solo on three-course dinners of escargot, steak tartare, and chocolate mousse on the regular.

So, I decided in an effort to try to be French, and chic, and refined – I would start the Stay-In Saturday Supper Club. Consider this your official invitation to join me.

Since my divorce, I’ve grown very comfortable being alone. In Paris, I had completely embraced how selfish and untied down I was. I loved how no one had the ability to affect my mood or day, no one’s alarm woke me in the morning or movie-watching kept me up at night. I didn’t have to check with anyone before I made plans or decisions. I wasn’t remotely jealous of co-habitating couples. I didn’t envy their proper homes and giggling babies when I was out at night in Paris being kissed on bridges and caressed in cafes over creme brûlée… but oh, how that changes…