Persian Inspired Cardamom, Rosewater, & Pistachio ‘Love Cake’ with Honey Rose Cream.

For the past two and a half years I’ve been a full time mamma. It’s easily been the hardest and most fulfilling job of my life. But the underbelly of me becoming a mother was a complete personal disregard for my own self care. I spent a good part of the first year with postpartum depression, although I didn’t really know it at the time. It was so very tough. I was completely embarrassed and confused by what I was feeling and felt very isolated and unsure of myself. I had gained a lot of weight during a pregnancy that was not at all what I had hoped and dreamed of. I also had to recover from six days at the hospital after four days of labor and a post labor operation that filled me with all the drugs I had managed to refuse during my hellishly long and difficult labor. The first few months were a strange time of falling deeply in love with this new being we had invited into the world and falling out of love with myself. I longed for my past – I felt like a stranger in this new body and role. Although I was constantly praised and loved by Mr. Wonderful, I wondered if I would ever feel strong and beautiful in my body again.

For a long time I was just waiting, waiting, waiting for some change to happen within me or outside of me. I walked everyday and the weight came off slowly over time, but I was still stuck in a conscious immobility that was born at the same time as the little dove. I made a thousand excuses for not being happy with who I was. The more I moved my body the better I felt, but the long, dark, winters, weren’t necessarily helping. I felt like I needed all these seemingly unattainable things to be who I wanted to be: six months at a yoga ashram in India with a legendary guru (preferably a woman guru – what?), another yoga teacher training, affordable yoga studios with welcoming communities, more experience, more this, more that, etc. It was a list that prevented me form movement. It was the: If I only had ____, I would finally be ____.

When I look around – especially at the yoga community (but not just), I see a lot of longing. There are so many folks who are searching for answers, gurus, the perfect pair of leggings (no, seriously). We become obsessed with the idea that if we only had the one thing, be it a teacher, the perfect handstand, or over-priced yoga clothes. Or maybe for some it’s finding the perfect partner, having a family, getting the great career, the perfect house, saving the world, etc. This longing somehow prevents us from being here now. It holds us back from this very moment. I spent ages wishing, dreaming, and longing for the perfect solution to my self doubt. All the while I had the power within me to make a change.

So what gives? Why are we always searching outward? What does it take to make us do the work ourselves, in the body we have, with the clothes on our back, and the money (or lack of) in our pockets, in our actual reality? It would mean being totally present in what might not be our dream world. The upside would be that we become unstuck and then who knows where we can go? The possibilities are limitless. It took me a long time to let go of the ashram dream and accept that for at least right now, my living room floor is where it is at. We live in a 400 square foot apartment with a 2 1/2 year old. It’s not much space, but surely enough for a yoga mat.

Self love seems to be the hardest lesson we have. I saw it over and over as a women’s rights activist – so much care given to others. We will risk our lives for others, but we will risk very little to move into the uncomfortable space of the now and make changes in our own lives. It is easy to care for others, to value their lives like pitchers of golden sunlight pouring life or prana into the dark cracks of the world. I think Milan Kundera put it best when he wrote: “On Monday, he was hit by a weight the likes of which he had never known. The tons of steel of the Russian tanks were nothing compared to it. For there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one’s own pain weights so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”

So it’s understandable that it can be hard to find compassion for oneself. To lift oneself up. To fill our pitcher and pour ourselves forth to fill our own cracks. What would that take? Would it take a big risk? Would it take recognizing the guru or teacher within yourself? Would it take loving yourself as much as you love the rest of the world? For me it took starting this blog and within it staring our 30 Days of Yoga journey together.

I can barely believe the change that has occurred. At first I thought that the videos and the blog posts were just for me, no one is really out there listening right? But you were. And you joined me in this opportunity to make deep changes. And what a blessing! For the first time since the little dove was born I feel strong in my body again. I feel proud in my skin. I feel whole and centered. It’s beyond what I imagined and it happened without an ashram or a guru. Now, that’s not to say that gurus are unnecessary, just that you don’t have to wait to find one outside of yourself to make change happen in your life. We just passed 20 days, and all I really know is that I want to do this practice everydamnday. I look forward to it, I long for it. I can do things I never believed I could do. I even held handstand for at least two seconds today. Wow. The healing. The strengthening. The calm. The kindness. The self love. The quiet. The compassion.

I heard a great song recently that says: “Well you’re the guru now, so visualizing healing, yeah you’re the guru now so visualizing leading.” Here’s to the the guru in each of you, the next 8 days, and all that comes after. Get off the couch, shut your phone, move your body, make your own damn cake, and eat it too, repeat. LOVE.

Cardamum, Rosewater, & Pistachio ‘Love Cake’ with Honey Rose Frosting:

Ingredients:

2 ½ cups flour
2 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
¾ cup unsalted butter
1 ½ cup sugar
1 heaping tablespoon fresh ground cardamom
3 eggs, room temperature
1 Tsp vanilla extract
1 cup whole milk
¼ cup cream
1 Tbs rosewater

Frosting:

2/3 cup butter at room temperature
3 Tbs honey (I like Blue Gum honey)
4 Tbs boiling water
1 1/2 Tbs rosewater

Decoration:

Fruit or dried roses.
Heaping 1/2 cup of chopped, shelled, and roasted unsalted pistachios.

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350º. Grease and flour your bundt pan. Set aside.

2. Sift flour, baking powder, salt, and cardamom. Set aside.

3. In a large bowl, beat butter until creamy. Slowly add sugar and vanilla and beat 2 minutes.

4. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition, and then beat for 2 minutes.

5. Add rosewater to milk and stir.

6. Beginning and ending with dry ingredients, add them in three parts alternating with milk and cream in two parts. Pour batter into prepared pan, spreading evenly.

7. Bake about 45 minutes or until a tester comes out clean. Wait 5 minutes and inverto onto wire rack. Cool completely.

Directions for Honey Rose Cream:

1. Cream butter until light and airy and then add the honey in two batches, beating well after each addition. Add the water one tablespoon at a time and continue beating until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Add in rosewater and beat just until incorporated.

2. Trim Bundt base to level if necessary, ice cake with an offset spatula and then decorate with shelled and chopped pistachios and fruit or dried rosebuds (optional). Enjoy!!

P.S. Here are a couple yoga videos for inspiration!

5 Ingredient Granola Bars & How Love Blossoms in the Concrete Jungle.

The other morning after dropping the little dove off at daycare, I was heading out of the subway station as I do every morning, where everyone’s head’s are hung, rushing, rushing, rushing, to and from, avoiding eye contact. Folks sitting on cardboard asking for money, everyone ignoring this growing phenomenon in Stockholm, rushing, rushing, rushing. Sometimes I just slow myself down to slow motion and look around at life speeding around me. As I exited the sliding doors and hit the cigarette smoke and bodies shuffling on the busy corner, I saw an older woman with a cane ask her friend to run ahead and try to catch the bus that was coming. Although I know that strangers don’t usually intervene here in Sweden, I was compelled to offer an arm for the woman to lean on so that she could get to the bus faster in order to make it on. Her friend had run off ahead, and without really thinking I asked the woman in Swedish if she would like an extra hand. To my surprise, her face lit up, she stood a bit taller, and looked me in the eye, her hand on my arm that was now helping her balance and walk, and said ‘thank you so much, no one does this type of thing anymore, what a gesture.’ I told her that ‘everyone needs an extra hand sometimes’ and she squeezed my arm in recognition.

There we were, two total strangers, in a strange and wonderful embrace. Locked arm in arm, I felt our humanness on such a basic and beautiful level. I got her on that bus and she thanked me profusely and began telling her friend about what happened as she got on. I looked back and waved as she disappeared into the busy bus. The sun hit me like a burst of light and I felt so full of love – the most basic and fundamental love – for a stranger and for our moment together. I cried. I cried because it’s so so so rare that we connect with others in this high tech, high speed, world anymore. I cried because it felt SO DAMN GOOD to help someone else. I think it was actually she who did me the favor in the end. She reminded me that to be fully alive is to see and feel all of the people around us. Inside we are all connected on some basic, human, level.

Perhaps it’s city living that creates this disconnect. Or it’s Swedish culture. Or both. But, no matter how long I live in the city, I’m still a mountain mamma through and through. It’s in my blood. I like saying hello to strangers (I only wish it was more welcomed here). I like fresh air, dirt, moving my body up and over vertical earth, camping (dang! I miss this the most), fireside sing alongs, pine cones, wildlife, and cairns showing me the way. How do I find my way in the city? I’m still figuring that out, but I know that moments like the one I had with this woman are helping me get where I need to go.

My roads may not be vertical here, but the concrete jungle can wear on you all the same, so having a healthy snack on hand is crucial (especially with the little dove). Right now we are refueling with these ah-mazing 5 ingredient granola bars from Minimalist Baker that I’ve altered just a bit by adding more peanut butter and toasting the nuts along with the oats. These are simple, wholesome, nutritious, and so yummy. They sort of have that basic goodness I was talking about earlier. Maybe because they are naturally sweet…. maybe we are too?

5 Ingredient Granola Bars:

Ingredients:

1 cup packed soft dates
1 1/2 cups oats
1 cupe raw almonds
Heaping 1/4 cup smooth, all natural peanut butter
1/4 cup honey

My add ins:

All natural, unsweetened shredded coconut
Goji berries

Directions:

Process dates in a food processor until small bits remain and form a “dough” like consistency.
Toast your oats, almonds, and coconut in a 350 degree oven for 15-ish minutes or until slightly golden brown, stirring every few minutes.
Place oats, almonds and dates in a bowl – set aside.
Warm honey and peanut butter in a small saucepan over low heat. Stir and pour over oat mixture and then mix until everything is incorporated.
Once thoroughly mixed, transfer to an 8×8 dish or other small pan lined with plastic wrap so they lift out easily.
Press down until uniformly flattened. Cover with plastic wrap, and let set in fridge 15-20 minutes to harden.
Remove bars from pan and chop into even bars. Store in an airtight container for up to a week or store in the freezer longer. Enjoy!

GF Pancakes with Strawberry Coulis and Whipped Coconut Cream.

Wow, you know you are a parent when you go out for sushi dinner to celebrate 9 ~~lives~~ years with Mr. Wonderful and you have two glasses of wine, come home at 8 p.m., and wake up the next morning feeling like you went to a 3 day rave. If that doesn’t make you feel old I don’t know what does. I scraped my face off the pillow at 6 a.m. when I felt the little dove’s hands on my cheeks and opened my eyes to see her staring at me and commanding ‘breakfast!’. It’s funny but no amount of coffee fixes this kind of parental hangover. ~~I staggered to the kitchen and~~ Who are we kidding? Mr. Wonderful jumped up as he does most mornings and made the dove her oatmeal. Honestly, I don’t think I could parent without him because I’m really only half human until my first sip of coffee and since I do my coconut oil and lemon water rituals, I’m not human until at least 7 a.m.. By the time I drank my coffee today (and no, damn your prying eyes, I didn’t do the coconut oil!) and ate a 1/2 piece of burnt gluten free toast (little dove ate the other half grrrr), I realized that no amount of anything legal would help wake me up today. I looked in the mirror and there were literally bags, like little Louis Vuitton weekend duffels, hanging under each eye. It looked like I had had an affair with David Bowie’s makeup artist. Tragically I looked less rock ‘n’ roll chic and more like a member of KISS after a raging hotel party. Needless to say, I wasn’t feeling it this morning. But when you are a parent you don’t have a choice, so I got the little dove ready, pulled my Yankee’s cap over my face, and shot out the door into a chilly and windy spring morning. Did I mention my feelings about wind? No? Well, we’ll leave that for another day.

When you have to just push on through on a day like the one I’m describing, it doesn’t hurt to have some comfort in the form of food. These pancakes, amaaaaa gaaaad, I almost cried. I know, I know, but they were surreal. I mean replacing whipped cream with coconut cream?? Swapping out copious amounts of maple syrup with a fresh strawberry coulis. It just couldn’t be better.

The trick with the coconut whipped cream is the kind you buy. First of all it has to be full fat – if you are dieting with light coconut cream, I would suggest maybe putting down the 20 oz diet soda and that salad from McDonald’s before giving up the fat in coconut milk. Second, it has to be refrigerated overnight in the can. Be mindful, not all brands work for whipping. I first tried the organic coconut milk and it SUCKED. It was chunky and never whipped. I was crushed. I actually wasn’t ever going to try again because that attempt ruined my first ever stab at a berry torte – it was easily one of the most depressing cooking experiences ever. It took some guts to go at it again, but DANG am I glad I did. I bought Thai brand full fat coconut milk, left it in the fridge overnight, and whipped it up the next morning with a splash of vanilla and a splash of maple syrup. It worked! It whipped up great and it tasted fantastic. Gah, I barely have words. The strawberry coulis adds a fresh sweetness and is also very simple and has just a small glug of maple syrup to sweeten it. The combination is divine.

Sadly, these pancakes don’t go with the day I’m describing here. I wish I had had these today, but alas, I had them the day before and can only bask in the memory. Instead I thought I would share the recipe with you so that if you need some sugar in your bowl on a tough day, I’ve got your back with these.

In lieu of pancakes these are some things that made me happy today:

1. Mr. Wonderful and many of his male friends will likely be voting for the Feminist Party this year in our elections in Sweden. And yes, I just wrote Feminist Party. It’s real. Ya, take note USA.

2. I made it into Astavakrasana for the FIRST TIME EVER. What a feeling! yogaeverydamnday!

3. The cheeseburger Mr. Wonderful got for me even though he and the little dove were eating my homemade quiche and salad. Love him. Don’t judge.

4. This & this.

5. Water. So thankful that I have access to it. Truly.

GF Pancakes with Strawberry Coulis and Whipped Coconut Cream:

Ingredients:

1 batch gluten free pancakes (we use these)
1 package of frozen organic strawberries
2 glugs of maple syrup
1 can full fat coconut milk that has been refrigerated overnight
Coconut oil for frying

Directions:

1. Heat a tsp of coconut oil in a large frying pan and begin to cook your pancakes. Once they are done you can put them in the oven on a low heat to keep them warm.

2. In a small pot place your frozen strawberries and a glug of maple syrup. Place on a medium high heat and let cook down for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Mash the strawberries with a potato masher or fork until desired consistency.

3. In a medium mixing bowl (best if it’s been chilled – but not necessary) pour in your coconut milk and 1 glug of maple syrup and a splash of vanilla extract. Mix with a hand mixer on medium for about 5 minutes or until peaks begin to form.

4. Plate up your pancakes, pour on some of the coulis, and top it all with your amazing coconut whipped cream. Enjoy!

P.S. Here is some yoga inspiration for you! We are almost half way!!! Great work friends!

Quinoa Pesto Salad with Seared Chicken and Tomatoes & One Week Down.

This post is coming to you a little late. We’ve been out in the ‘country’ at Mr. Wonderful’s parent’s house – we are actually still here as I type this. What a treat to get out of the city! The quiet is tangible, the birdsong operatic. Sometimes you just have to get out of the concrete jungle and breath. The front door is flung open. The sun is pouring in the living room window and I can hear the family in the kitchen preparing dinner while Ella Fitzgerald sings ‘I’m beginning to see the light…’ in the background. It’s definitely spring in Sweden and I am over the moon.

It’s not just spring that has me swooning. Just like Ella, I too feel like I’m ‘beginning to see the light.’ And I am feeling some deep gratitude right now. It’s so deep, this gratitude of mine, that I almost want to ‘namaste’ you from my computer, but that would be, well, a little too much like this, so I’ll spare you and just get down to it. So grab your chia hemp smoothie, your overpriced mala, and your stinky yoga mat and sit down (in lotus preferably – wink wink) because I want to talk to you about the last 7 days.

It’s pretty amazing what can happen after just one week of a behavioral change. I’m so thankful for this 30 Days of Yoga and all of you out there that are doing it with me. I really feel you and it has made a tremendous difference in my motivation and practice, so thank you! As the first week came to a close I found myself wondering why I hadn’t been doing yoga every. damn. day. for the last few months. What changed? Why did I need the 30 Days of Yoga to remind me? I mean, let’s be honest, I know why I haven’t been doing yoga every. damn. day., but facing it and turning the corner are quite different than just ‘knowing’ why. We are creatures of habit and tend to get stuck in our habitual patterns and if our patterns go downtempo and lazy then we get into the custom of not doing our practice. Once we get in the cycle of not practicing, it’s quite hard to get back to it. And, sadly, that place of what we’ll call ‘unpractice’ is a pretty shitty place to be, right? You may not feel it fully when you are in it because the unpractice becomes a cocoon of layers and soft fluff – maybe it’s junk food, maybe it’s facebook, maybe it’s TV, but they all suck your time and energy and leave no room for what you need. That cocoon can smother you, but it’s a slow smother and you might not even feel your breath getting shorter until it’s too late.

But that’s not for us! No! And this is why we sometimes need to shake things up. Well, let me tell you that jumping back into yoga every. damn. day. definitely shook me up. Even within the first day I could feel the change in my body and my mind. There is a sense of pride and joy that comes from discipline, not to mention the endorphins you get from moving your body. I stand taller, I feel happier and stronger, I feel like my whole self. My daily practice invigorates me and makes me feel connected to something larger than my little reality – it helps me get out of my cocoon. I realize now that this is something that has to happen daily. The past seven days have brought me back to my discipline, devotion, and self care, things I had forgotten and neglected. This week showed me something else as well… it showed me how weak my body had become from my unpractice (and that was freaking scary!), but equally amazed me by showing me how fast my strength came back.

I know that many of you have been doing your daily practice as well and you’ve shared with me personally that you feel the transformation. I am so proud of you. I know that it’s not always easy to carve out 30 minutes just for you, but you are doing it and this is huge. I can’t wait to hear more about the changes you are experiencing. Please share your stories in the comments section to inspire and support everyone else who is doing this or considering it. Sometimes it takes a village.

I know this is going to sound cliché, but my clothes fit better and to be honest, my hunger cravings have diminished significantly. Now let’s not go overboard, I still LOVE food – that will never change. And this is why I have found it really rewarding to write about yoga and food during the 30 Days. I think when you commit to your practice your focus shifts and instead of wanting to hoag that bag of chips or shovel ben and jerry’s into your mouth, you may find yourself craving healthier food. This is the food that fuels our bodies instead of depleting them. This dish I’m sharing is a great example of a healthy, protein packed meal with the tanginess of walnut kale pesto and the sweetness of cherry tomatoes. A perfect way to celebrate your 30 Days.

Let’s march into week two together, hand in hand, or foot in hand depending on the yoga pose, and see where this 30 Days takes us. I have a feeling we’ve only just begun to see the light.

Quinoa Pesto Salad with Seared Chicken and Tomatoes:

Ingredients:

4 cups cooked quinoa
2-4 cooked chicken breasts
A big handful of ripe cherry tomatoes
1/2 – 3/4 cup kale walnut pesto (recipe here)

Directions:

1. For the chicken: Rinse and dry your chicken breasts. Salt and pepper both sides. You can of course add other spices that will go with pesto if you like. I chose to keep this pretty simple and let the pesto take the lead. I fried these on medium heat in a little oil and pressed the lid onto them to create the crispness you see. You should cook these for about 4-5 minutes on each side depending on the size of the chicken breast or until the juices run clear. Once the chicken is cooled down a bit slice into 1/4 inch slices.

2. Place the cooked quinoa (that has cooled) into a large bowl. Add the pesto, sliced chicken, and tomatoes and toss until the pesto is combined. Add more pesto depending on how dry the quinoa is. Enjoy!

P.S. Here I am on Day 7. I hope these little videos inspire.

Devilishly Dyed Eggs and Life Lessons.

I don’t know if it’s writer’s block or just life block, but I wrote this whole post and then deleted it. It felt empty somehow, like a waste of space. Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m in some dark hole, I’m just beat down. It’s been a helluva week here. I spent 7 whole days at home with the little dove sick sick sick and then I got sick sick sick (hats off to that one kid’s parents who sent her to daycare with an emphysema-like cough – we really appreciate your thoughtfulness).

Of course this isn’t the end of the world – everyone gets sick, but in the midst of the burning fever, snot, and coughing that made us both sound like Janis (we sang quite a few rounds of this and this), the little dove went into what we like to call her: developing space or the DS. The DS is something like The Exorcist meets Veruca Salt meets Woody Allen. Just think about that for a minute. Between the tantrums and complete disregard for anything Mr. Wonderful or I say, there is also the ‘my sock can’t touch that part of my leg’ or ‘there is one, ONE, drop of water on my arm and I am dying, wipe it OFF.’ So there’s that. Of course, at the end of a particularly tough day together, when I was ready to break down and start smoking and popping tranquilizers, the little dove came up to me, looked me dead in the eye and said: ‘I love you mamma, I really love you.’ She flung her little soft arms around my neck and big tears fell from my eyes into her messy hair. It’s kind of amazing that one small gesture can change something so quickly. Like a sword cutting through a thick fog. Magic.

Kids have the ability to be totally in the present moment (something we’ve talked about in my posts on yoga). It’s a gift that I feel we lose as we get older. They say how they feel, from their heart, with no filters. Sometimes they can say things that are hurtful or hard to hear, other times they say ‘I love you’ when you are ready to lose your mind. And just like that they help you bring it back. It’s a gift. So, in return for the indescribable sweetness that is the little dove saying those words, I decided to make some devilishly dyed eggs to brighten our day.

These freaking eggs are magical and are dyed naturally with beet juice. They definitely have the power to make someone smile or make your dish get noticed at a party (the ultimate goal I know). Something so simple, yet you look at them and BAM they are fuchsia! Hells bells! And why not eat fuchsia eggs? I’ll tell you why not, because we have lost our sense of imagination. Well dear ones, I’m here to help you get it back. I hope you saved that beet juice from the beets we boiled last week for smoothies because you’re going to dye over what comes next (*chuckles*).

I got this amazing idea off of one of my favorite foodie sites, thekitchn.com. I wasn’t super interested in doing the pickled beets thing, so I simplified their recipe and was pleasantly surprised when the eggs came out hot pink and didn’t taste strange. I mean it’s kind of weird to stick hard boiled eggs in beet juice right? Wrong. It’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to an old party dish that needs a makeover. Just in time for your spring religious holidays or lunch. Enjoy!

Devilishly Dyed Eggs:

Ingredients:

6 hardboiled eggs, peeled and cooled
2 mason jars full of beet juice (recipe below)
1/4 cup to 1/2 cup mayonnaise or veganaise
2 Tsp dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Small basil leaves

For the beet juice:

Water leftover from boiling a bunch of beets
Splash of vinegar
A few shakes of salt

Directions:

1. Place your hardboiled eggs into the mason jars filled with beet juice (make sure your jars aren’t too full so that you have room for 3 eggs per jar). Let the eggs soak for a few hours or overnight (the amount of time determines how deep the color soaks in – the eggs pictured were done overnight.

2. Take your eggs out of the jars and slice in half. Scoop out the yolks and place in a bowl.

3. Add the mayonnaise, mustard, salt and pepper and mash until creamy. Adjust flavors as you go.

4. With a teaspoon fill the eggs with the yolk mixture. Place a small basil leaf in the center. Crack some fresh pepper on top and enjoy!

P.S. It’s day 5 of our 30 Days of Yoga. Let us know how it’s going for you!