Eh Yo Ma!

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Here’s what I saw and heard:

Dozens rallied on the steps of Manhattan’s City Hall on October 13, 2018.

Many agendas but one shared message- Overdevelopment of New York City without the consideration of existing communities.

More Info here: https://www.amny.com/real-estate/real-estate-luxury-development-1.21948060

Hey Girl! 1) Hang in there! Leggings and Jeggins are on the way. No more pouring yourself into stiff, uncomfortable, skinny denim. No longer will you be using a screwdriver to eeek up that impossible zipper. At least you taught yourself to stretch it out doing splits in your adolescent bedroom before school. Skin tight pants will wear easier throughout the day. Just get moving. Lycra is on the way. Like bottoms you can’t breathe in, most of life’s challenges will ease up or are only temporary. Just hold on! I guess the 80s/90s “Gummy-Jeans” fad was a precursor to the athleisure-wear of today. You’re welcome.

2) Don’t miss out on life because of hangups. Your body is bangin! You are so hot right now; best it will ever be by vanity and by virtue of being young. Change your head to love yourself. Embrace that plentiful collagen and limited exposure to gravity. Focus on wellness and appreciation of your temple… your physical form. Do not avoid life because of your clothes, your body image and bad hair days. Pay attention to that negative self talk and put it away. It’s lying to you!! It’s not true. The world is hard enough outside, don’t tear yourself down on the inside.

3) Sure, you’ll think its cool to drink something that has gold flakes floating in it. It’s cinnamon-flavored, it’s sweet, it’s boozy. What could go wrong? Oh my vile, vile underestimation! A hangover so bad, the word regret was invented for this decision alone. KEEP IT SIMPLE: Your drinks, your relationships, your friends, your mental clarity, your communication. Keep it all simple. Weed out what worries you. Keep it clear. Know that heartbreak sucks. Some boys are good. Some suck and some do both! Don’t waste too much time stuck. Feel it. Embrace the pain. Heal and wait. Smile and Laugh regularly!!

Bottom Line: I do not have it all figured out. I’m not smarter than you. I’m not righteous and I’m far from perfect. But… I have seen more sunsets than you and it is my hope that time and experience have infused some important lessons and wisdom upon me that I can share with you. Listen to your intuition, contemplate but act. Don’t stay complacent in decision making. Have love and compassion for yourself and the world. Those are the most important tools for this human existence. Love, Marina (41)

Last night I held your ashes on my chest heavy, dense, solid as you physically were in life. An almost embrace. It was one sided but the sensation of your energy was holding me.

Today I feel lighter. I released your remains to the earth. To the edge of your hometown, New York City you now rest. In the cradle of your passions you flow— by the sea by the ships. The South Street Seaport was a second home. A place we have strong memories of happiness. A place you proudly displayed your artwork. It fits.

I was so disappointed to see the condition of the piers still mostly shuttered and battered by Hurricane Sandy. Its fragility apparent, like our very own. Some storms we weather some we don’t and I know you were done living Dad.

I acted alone today consciously. Many years we spent just you and I and it was also fitting to have this closure together on the 1st anniversary of your death.

Blown away a few weeks ago by this off-the beaten path American landmark. The Museum at Eldridge Street housed inside the Eldridge Street Synagogue.

It is at once oversized with character and stunningly intimate. It’s simultaneously the living footprint of immigrant old-world New York and breathtakingly fresh for eyes never seen. I’m rarely surprised by anything in the Big Apple yet this sanctuary, every inch photographic and historic, left me in awe.

It’s the most “churchy” Jewish house of worship I’ve ever seen and I love that. It’s nod to the ornate is a result of the synagogue being an innovation in New York and in America when it was built in the very late 1800s. It was bold and grandiose in the sense that Jews who were fleeing persecution in Europe could finally declare proudly this is where we worship this is where we are free.

A somewhat funny anecdote carved into the benches is the “trefoil” symbol. That marker generally captures the Christian theme of the Trinity but back then the builders likely, unknowingly, purchased them from an outlet selling church benches because that was all that was available. It was groundbreaking. No real temples had been built in the US before.

Coquito Confidential

The holiday season is about giving and good cheer so you are welcome in advance for this underground gem I’m about to hand you on a silver platter. Don’t say I never gave you anything.

But first, you need to know that this morning I had a rich delicious coffee splashed with Coquito. Earlier in the week I began drinking it straight up and by the time Christmas and New Year’s Eve are but a sweet memory, the current supply I have will be demolished.

A Christmas in NYC is not complete for me without La Reina (The Queen) of Christmas cocktails— Coquito, a creamy, dreamy Spanish-Caribbean created cocktail that I would equate to Egg Nog.

Serena Medrano has been serving up the beverage for more than three decades in her Essex Street apartment and before that in her native Dominican Republic. Even though we are friends she won’t tell me exactly how long she’s been turning out batches of the rum drink, and she definitely won’t tell me her secret recipe. The only detail I could squeak out of her is that her rum of choice is Bacardi.

What I do get when Coquito passes my lips is a creamy sweet texture without cloying sweetness. The sharp alcohol cuts the sweetness but complements the experience. Crushed nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla round out the spice notes. They float around in the milky liquid I’m pretty sure consists of sweetened condensed milk and other yumminess. It’s best served chilled and it’s easy to over-indulge because it’s so sweet and smooth.

Traditionally, I call ahead and then pick up at her apartment. We always exchange pleasantries, kiss (on both cheeks of course) and then she asks “how many bottles?” It’s always a surprise which recycled bottle I’ll get. A wine container or an old soda bottle can hide away this creamy concoction. It’s not uniform in presentation but always spot on in flavor and generosity of booze. Serena swaddles the bottles in newspaper and gives you a plastic bag. We talk a bit more, my kids run around her apartment, I yell at them, she gives them small trinkets to play with and we all wish each other a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. At this point I can’t wait to get home to crack open her brew.

I promise you this underground, homemade drink will make you the most popular kid at any holiday party. It’s twenty-five bucks a bottle. Cash only obviously, worth every penny.

The deets are below:

Serena Medrano 212.529.6740