The idea was hatched one incredible day in May. “What if there was a party and all the invites were actually ransom notes?” And so the party planning began.

My accomplices and I had our first top secret meeting and formed the outline for a top secret ransom note party. We would steal from our friends, send them ransom notes, and make them bring various items (mostly things that make for a good party, like frozen pizza and Solo cups, but also random things, like toy soldiers, watercolors and Metamucil) to a party in exchange for their stuff back.

For the next month we went around thieving. We didn’t take anything terribly important, but things people would probably want back, like a Wii remote cover, a framed photo, a stuffed animal, a sofa cushion, Duck Walk menus and the OC on DVD. We took things from ourselves to hide our tracks. Once enough items were secured, we sent everyone (including ourselves) ransom notes with cut out magazine letters. It went a little something like this:

HEY YOU! I HAVE YOUR ATHENS ROAD TRIP PHOTO ALBUM. IF YOU WANT IT BACK UNHARMED, BRING A CARDBOARD BABY AND YOUR FAVORITE BOOZE TO 3806 N. KENMORE AVENUE IN THE BASEMENT ON JULY 24TH AT 8. I WILL HAVE BEER. AND SOME CHIPS. I’LL BLOW THE PLACE UP!
RSVP TO:  IHAVEYOURLOVEDONE@GMAIL.COM
GET UPDATES ON YOUR SHIT AT  TWITTER.COM/IHAVEYOURLOVED1

The day the notes were delivered we feverishly checked ihaveyourlovedone@gmail.com and twitter.com/ihaveyourloved1 for RSVPs. We got some great ones, like:

Unfortunately I will not be able to attend as I have a work commitment. If my loved one is Dan, please harm away… Also if you read your email as "I have your love done" instead of "I have your loved one" it makes you seem like a baker who makes heart shaped cakes.

and

I AM SORRY I CANNOT COME, KIDNAPPER. YOU CAN HAVE SUN CHIPS WHENEVER YOU LIKE, JUST STOP BY. WE CAN EAT THEM TOGETHER AND TALK ABOUT YELLING. AND YOUR GRAMMAR, MAYBE.

and

Unfortunately, I have a wedding that night so I don't think I'm going to make it. Also, nothing you can do to that sofa cushion is worse than what I've already done to it.

I had some gchat conversations with the ransomed, like:

Kari:  i'm just gonna tell you, sorry if i ruin the surprise
          someone took my doormat a few days ago, i was confused
          and then i got a letter addressed to me and dan
          and basically its being held ransom for a party in july
          i have to bring queso to get it back

and

Emily:  dude, did you get a letter in the mail?
me:      i get letters all the time
Emily:  emmy and i got this letter, it’s like a ransom letter
            and they have my ceramic turtle, it’s been missing for awhile
me:      kari was telling me something similar
Emily:  oh yeahh??
me:      doormat
Emily:  they have a twitter account and it said something about a doormat

I acted surprised and kept my knowledge and excitement under wraps. I had to remember what I had been told and what Kid Napper had been told because if someone asked if Scott was coming, I couldn’t answer truthfully with, “No, he’s going to his Grandma’s 80th birthday party,” because I, myself, did not know this information, but I, Kid Napper, knew all about it.

And then the accusations started rolling in. I was accused immediately, but kept placing the blame on other people. I’d say, “No, I didn’t do this, but I wish I had. It’s such a good idea! It seems a lot like something Steve would do. He’s got a lot of time to kill during work.” We took direct quotes from people’s Facebook pages and posted them on Twitter. We tried tweeting in a way that didn’t sound like us, which pretty much just involved TYPING IN ALL CAPS AND USING POOR GRAMMAR.

It was especially hard to lie to my roommate. We tell each other everything. She’s pretty much my living breathing external hard drive. When I’d need to meet my fellow Kid Nappers for planning meetings I’d put on workout clothes and tell her I was going to the gym, but actually go to someone’s apartment and come home at precisely the right time to make it look like I went to a class. I cleared the history on my internet browser after I used it each time. I couldn’t have her borrowing my computer and seeing I was logged in to Twitter as ihaveyourloved1.

I was anxious all the time, but I also had uncontrollable fits of laughter at inappropriate times. I couldn’t stop thinking about how we planned to have a chandelier fall from the ceiling when everyone got there and mannequins tied up with sacks over their heads and a tape recorder screaming “Help me! Help me!” and how we wanted one of us to dress in all black and wear a bunny head to hide their face.

On the ransom notes, we put the location as 3806 N. Kenmore Avenue, although we didn’t know anyone that lived there. It’s a weird creepy building we scoped out. In actuality we had no idea where to have the party and knew we’d be emailing a change in location, which we finally decided would be one of the Kid Nappers’ places. His roommate was out of town and not everyone had been there before. The update went a little like this:

WE'VE BEEN RATTED ON. WE HAVE TO CHANGE THE SPOT. MEET ME IN WRIGLEYVILLE. ON SEMINARY UNDER THE TRAIN TRACKS. WE'LL BE DRESSED IN ALL BLACK. IN CASE YOU'RE A STUPID SHIT AND FORGOT, IT'S THIS SATURDAY AT 8 PM SHARP. NO SOONER NO LATER. GOT THAT ASSHOLES? COME ALONE. OR WITH FRIENDS. IF YOU'RE LATE THERE WILL BE A SIGN HANGING UP WITH FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. JUST DON'T BE LATE AND YOU WON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT IT. OR YOU CAN CALL 440-***-****. SEE YOU SOON BITCHES.

KID NAPPER

*This letter has been modified to protect the accused and be a little more R and a little less X.

The phone number was actually Steve’s, who we had tried to blame earlier.

The day of the party finally arrived and I was so nervous. At 8pm sharp, no sooner, no later, we showed up under the train tracks. Us Kid Nappers also showed up, plain-clothed, and acting as normal ransomed folk. At 8:15pm sharp, our recruited fake kid nappers (who were friends of mine, but no one had met before) showed up carrying large sticks, dressed in black and wearing masks and wigs. They demeaned us and led us to the spot.

When we arrived, the truth finally came out, we confessed and the party commenced. It was totally amazing, naturally. I humbly think of it as “the party of the decade.” Then the Rumple Minze came out and all memory of the evening began to fade but seeing my friends reunited with their loved ones and the mess that was left in the morning proved the evening a success.

GOT SHIT TO SAY TO ME? WANT HELP WITH YOUR PARTY? TOO BAD BECAUSE I DON’T CARE. BUT YOU CAN EMAIL ME ASSHOLES.  IHAVEYOURLOVEDONE@GMAIL.COM

Exactly a year ago, I couldn’t have been doing anything more opposite than what I’m doing today.

You see, right now I’m sitting in my office in downtown Chicago, finishing up my lunch and typing away at my computer. One year ago, I was sitting by a campfire in a Bedouin tent in southern Israel after just getting back from riding camels and donkeys, surrounded by a group of people I hadn’t known before traveling with them halfway across the globe.

Exactly one year ago, I was nearing the end of my Birthright Israel trip.

My birthright group, after making it to the top of a hike

Growing up, I had never really thought I’d end up going on a trip with mostly strangers to a place I had only heard about at Hebrew School and sporadically in the news. It had never really crossed my mind as something that would be important to me. But when my brother went on his Birthright trip the summer after his freshman year in college, he came back a changed person.

If you asked him how his trip went, he would declare it as the best experience, singing praises not just about the places he went to, but also the people he met and his newfound interest in his religion. Before he left, I would never have described my brother as religious. But he came back from his trip with an entirely new perspective on Judaism.

When it came time for me to go, I was steadfast in my denial that the same transformation would happen to me. Even if it happened to my own brother—the last person I would ever think of to undergo such a dramatic change—I was just looking forward to a free trip and meeting new people.

After riding camels, exactly one year ago

I can tell you the exact moment that changed.

Well to be fair, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment in time. Everything kind of blurred together after ten days of virtually no sleep and nonstop activity. But I do remember the exact words I heard someone speak to the whole group. Those words hit me with a realization that somewhere along the trip, I had made that same transformation my brother had three years prior.

We had all gathered together for one of our final tie-in sessions (where we would all talk about what we had experienced so far on the trip, our favorite parts, etc.) and someone said, “Being here, in Israel, can really make someone change their priorities from being a Jewish American to an American Jew.”

I had never heard of any phrase like that before. At first I was really confused; I mean aren’t those two classifications the exact same thing? But as this person explained further, they were actually the exact opposite of each other.

To explain: classifying yourself as a Jewish American means you are, at heart, an American citizen, always putting that as your top priority, and you happen to be Jewish too. To call yourself an American Jew shows you put being Jewish as your main priority, it is most important to you. And that, I realized, is what I had become—An American Jew.

I don’t know what did it for me, and when I asked my brother he couldn’t answer either. I think it was the whole experience—the combination of the people I met, the places we went, and the conversations we had. I found myself really invested in my religion all on my own for the first time in my life. No one was forcing me into it, I had no obligations to feel that way; it just came about on its own.

Now, I’m not saying I suddenly became an Orthodox Jew, praying three times a day, etc. But for the first time, I just really cared about being Jewish, and I felt a personal tie to it. I became proud of being a part of this religion.

These feelings didn’t end as soon as I returned home (albeit a week later than I had originally planned. I had met someone on the trip that I became close with, and ended up extending my trip with her to travel all around the country on our own schedule with some much needed sleep added in this time!). When I got back to school in the fall, I continued spending time with the friends I had made on my trip, and subsequently started meeting their friends. Before I knew it, I was going to Jewish events at both Hillel and Chabad on campus, hanging out with more Jewish people than I had ever known before, and even my friends from the previous year could see the change in me.

I had made the switch from being a Jewish American to an American Jew. And I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Fall fashions

Pre-Fall.  It’s amazing what those two little words can do when hyphenated. 

Those two teeny words have the power to bring me to a terrifying level of excitement, and then crush me, just as quickly. 

Are you asking yourself, “What the hell is the girl talking about?” Do the words “Pre-Fall” not immediately register with you?  If so, I’ll refer to you as the “Shoppingly Challenged.” And for my Shoppingly Challenged, (or SC) readers, I’ll explain what is just so amazing and so devastatingly crushing about Pre-Fall. 

Pre-Fall is the time of the summer when all of the stores and designers release their fall fashions—holy excitement!  Come early July, I can’t wait to see what the stores are showing for fall, and take advantage of the summer sales.  I pre-shop the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale (arguably one of the greatest of the Pre-Fall sales,) look for my High Holiday outfits, and start figuring out how I’m going to save to afford all of the fall staples that I’ve been drooling over.  So this all sounds great, right?  Where does the “devastatingly crushing” part of Pre-Fall kick in? It kicks in NOW, when I think about the “fall” part of Pre-Fall.  Where did summer go? Why am I getting emails from my favorite stores about which sweaters and boots I MUST purchase this fall?!  I even woke up to an email in my mailbox this morning about a certain designer’s FALL-WINTER collection! Fall-Winter!  WHAT! What about tank tops and sandals, and teeny tiny skirts?  Ugh, THIS is the part of Pre-Fall that is awful.  It makes me feel like summer is slipping between my fingers before it even started! And it reminds me of everything that I need to buy this year for fall…. And for fall-winter.

Because I am Oy!’s resident fashionista (who is limited to a non-profit salary), I’ve come up with a list of stylish fall items that are still in my closet from last year, that are just as hot and trendy this year.  Hopefully my list helps to calm my nerves and yours, as the Pre-Fall stress sets in…

Shoes—Like last fall, boots are all the rage! We’re seeing boots of all heights, ranging from high heel clogs, to short booties—aka shoeties (pronounced shoo-tees), to flat riding boots, and OTK (over the knee) boots.  Most likely, the boots you bought last fall will be fine to wear again.  I can’t wait to break out my flat OTK boots and my shorter ankle booties. They were fantastic last year, and I know they’ll get me through another season!

Bottoms—Hurray! Super skinny jeans have not left the scene!  No need to replace your favorite skinnies!  Expect to see new skinnies in all shades of denim, including twill and military green—some even adorned with cargo pockets.  We’ll also get to re-wear our second-skin jeggings, or jean leggings.  Black or dark grey jeggings are a fantastic staple to dress up or dress down.  This fall, hemlines on dresses and skirts are short, like this summer… talk to your employer about that one…

Tops—Designers are showing a lot of feminine details, like ruffles and lace.  While you might not have pieces like this from last fall, a fantastic silk blouse with ruffles or unique details around the neck is a great investment piece! It can work at work, under a suit or cardigan, but can also work out on the weekends under another hot item for fall—the leather jacket! Snug leather jackets have been in for awhile now, and I don’t see them going anywhere—another great investment piece.

Handbags—We’re seeing a lot of top-handle handbags this fall. The cross-body bags from summer and spring are still in, so don’t panic about needing a new purse.  However, if you plan on splurging on a purse, feel confident in your top handle purchase, knowing that it is a classic design that will never go out of style.

Trendy Work—This all depends on the dress code at your office, but it’s easy to work trendy into your work wardrobe. I’m planning on buying several long sweaters, which will look great with skinnies, and are also work appropriate with a turtleneck, black skinny pants, and chunky heels or OTK boots.  On more conservative days, a ruffle-y silk top pairs well with a suit, or a cardigan and high-waisted skirt. 

In closing, savor the summer, and don’t let Pre-Fall stress you out.  Think of all of the exciting new fashions, awesome sales, and my tips for saving a few dollars by wearing pieces from last year.  You’ll look just as fabulous this fall wearing last year’s boots and skinnies with a new top. I promise.  As for the High Holidays, wear something great that will catch the attention of others if you get caught in a not-so-wonderful Rosh Hashanah sermon…

When the heat is on and you cannot bear the thought of turning on the oven, keep cool with refreshing gazpacho. Gazpacho originated in Spain as an afternoon snack. The true Andalusia version has almonds, bread, grapes, olive oil, vinegar and salt. Sometimes, anchovies are even added. It is peasant food that utilizes leftover ingredients. The bread soaks up the water, and then the mixture is pounded with a mortar and pestle. The gazpacho is creamy and refreshing.

The gazpacho that we know and enjoy originated after Columbus brought peppers and tomatoes to Spain. The secret to great gazpacho is not to let any one ingredient be more pronounced than any other. The whole dish should be in harmony— very subtle and delicate in flavor.

Be sure to use your best olive oil for gazpacho. Because the gazpacho is not cooked, the flavor of the oil is very important. I use an unfiltered, organic Spanish extra virgin olive oil. It is delicious and I only use it for salads, cold soups and finishing sauces.

When the weather is hot and you do not feel like cooking, you can still entertain with style. Whirr up several gazpachos, pour some sangria and enjoy.

Recipes adapted from my book JEWISH COOKING FOR ALL SEASONS (John Wiley and Sons).

Tomato Gazpacho

This is a version of the soup that we commonly eat here in America. It is refreshing and delicious.

4 garlic cloves
2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 red bell pepper-seeded and de-veined
1 small English cucumber-peeled and seeded
2-3 pounds very ripe tomatoes
1 cup of soft bread torn into pieces-left over challah trimmed of crust will work nicely
¼ cup rice vinegar
Splash of sherry (optional)
⅓ cup Extra Virgin olive oil-use your best tasting olive oil
2 cups unsalted tomato juice
1 teaspoon pimenton*
Salt and pepper

1. Place all of the ingredients in a food processor or blender and process until very smooth and the mixture is peach colored.
2. Cover the gazpacho and chill it completely before serving. Adjust slat and pepper to taste.
3. Garnish with: herbed croutons, chopped cucumber, fresh parsley, chopped egg, Extra Virgin olive oil, hot chilies, roasted peppers. Use your imagination!

*Pimenton is a Spanish smoked paprika. It is really not comparable to the paprika found in most grocery stores. It has a wonderful sweet smokiness essential to Paellas, chorizo and other Spanish delicacies. Pimenton can be found readily on-line or at specialty markets and at The Spice House on-line.

White Gazpacho (Ajo Blanco)

This is a version of the classic gazpacho from Andalusia. I love this version. It is beautiful in a glass bowl or a wine glass.

4 cloves garlic
1 quart of ice cold water
2 cups soft bread-crusts removed
6 ounces blanched almonds
2 cups of green grapes-peeled
¼ cup rice vinegar
Splash of sherry
⅓ cup Extra Virgin olive oil-use your best tasting olive oil
Salt and pepper

1. Place All of the ingredients in a food processor or blender and the process until very smooth. Add the reserved water to adjust the consistency.
2. Chill the gazpacho until it is very cold. Garnish with toasted almonds, grapes and flat leaf parsley.

Green Gazpacho (from Axarquia in Malaga)

This is a gazpacho that really highlights the vegetation of the mountains in Malaga. This version is a “shepherd’s gathering soup”. I love the herbaceous flavor and bright green color. I feel cool and refreshed just looking at this gorgeous concoction.

2 cloves garlic
1 small bulb of fennel-fronds removed and saved for garnish
2 cups watercress leaves or favorite lettuce
¼ cup flat leaf parsley leaves
¼ cup mint leaves
¼ cup rice vinegar
Splash of sherry (optional)
⅓ cup Extra Virgin olive oil-use your best tasting olive oil
1 quart of ice cold vegetable stock or water
Salt and pepper

1. Place all the ingredients in a food processor or blender. Process until the gazpacho is completely smooth. Adjust consistency if necessary.
Chill the gazpacho completely before serving.
2. Garnish with fresh aioli, chopped mint, diced cucumber, reserved fennel fronds.

Gazpacho

This version is pure American and playful. I love cold food and am always looking for new ways to show off the flavors of food when chilled.

2 cloves garlic
3 pounds yellow tomatoes-or favorite heirloom tomatoes, roasted, peeled and seeded
1 cup yellow watermelon
⅓ cup Extra Virgin olive oil-Use your best tasting olive oil
¼ cup rice vinegar
Splash of sherry
1 quart ice cold water
Salt and pepper

1. Place all the ingredients in a blender or food processor. Process until smooth. Chill thoroughly before serving.
2. Garnish with watermelon cubes, diced tomatoes, aioli, flat leaf parley.

Before I get into my real post, I have some exiting news to share with all of you Oy!sters! About a month ago, I was chosen amongst young, Chicago online writers and bloggers to attend the unveiling of a brand new, American-made spirit called, New Amsterdam Gin at the Old Town Social Club.

For those of you unaware of gin, it is created similarly to vodka, but after distillation the white spirit is then infused and steeped with various botanical and citrus ingredients. Not only did we get our hands on the gin before anyone else in Chicago, each one of us writers also had the opportunity participate in a cocktail competition to find out who can make the best tasting cocktail using New Amsterdam Gin! We spent the night enjoying free finger food and complimentary cocktails from Old Town Social while we contemplated our recipes. How much fun is that?!

The competition was fierce, but the fun was never-ending! Check out the video to see how it all went down, and you may even catch a glance of me talking about my dazzling creation, “The Magnificent Mile”.  Now, I ended up in de-facto second place (there was only one grand prize), which is not too shabby. Alex Ott, the head mixologist for New Amsterdam Gin and the head judge for our cocktail competition, even mentioned to me afterwards that my cocktail reminded him of a lollipop he enjoyed when he was a child here in Chicago! Despite my runner-up standing, I had more fun hanging out with a group of Chicago food and drink writers at a great location with some amazing cocktails!

What more could I ask for on a rainy Tuesday evening? The hospitality was great from both Old Town Social and the fabulous people at DeVries Public Relations and New Amsterdam Gin. I highly recommend picking up a bottle of this incredibly smooth, easy to drink gin and add it to your home bar for just $13.99!

Now…on to my topic for this blog, dating in the most public and arguably the most awkward of social settings: the bar. As I mentioned in my previous post, I have seen and heard my share of both failures and successes of those braving the elements and finding love in the wilderness of the bar scene.

From behind the counter, it sometimes appears like singles looking to mingle are treasure hunters hacking at the bramble as they meander through the dark  jungle that is dating. Now, just because the jungle can be fierce does not mean that there isn’t any treasure to discover, or exotic places to explore. Sometimes bars can be a great place to hang out and meet attractive and single people, but you have to know where to go and what times to be there.

Certain restaurants and hotels have cozy bars and lounges where young, single people can crash after work or even after dinner for a nightcap. There are bars that will even offer food, so you can eat and scope out the scene or if you're lucky, find yourself engrossed in a conversation with a complete stranger sitting next to you. Even if you are dating someone, you can still go to bars and have a fun time without feeling awkward. At Le Colonial, where I tend bar, we have a “date night” promotion on Wednesdays where you can bring a date and get discounts on bubbly and certain menu items. Since you can eat at the bar, you can pick a stool, pony up and enjoy some fabulous food and sparkly with your significant other. You can even pick a spot on one of the comfy sofas in the lounge and relax to your heart’s content. Who said that bars can’t be romantic?

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to witness a very special proposal at at my restaurant! As I saw the wonton desserts go out, I knew he was preparing to ask and wanted to see it for myself...lo and behold, he dropped to one knee and asked her! All the servers (who are female) were all choked up and as they left, everyone clapped and wished them a hearty congratulations! To think that they were introduced by mutual friends a few years ago at this very bar!

Seeing a couple at my bar enjoying fabulous cocktails and company always puts a smile on my face, and should give hope to those prowling around the dating jungle that, with the right attitude, good timing, and the right setting, anything is possible! So keep your head up, all you single people, and keep the stories coming!

L’Chaim!

First off stop thinking that! Not many people have the shape they want, and everyone has one body part they wished was smaller. Step one: Do not refer to yourself as fat. And don’t ask anyone, what my sister asked me in 1995: “Am I fat?”

At the time, I replied,” No, maybe a little chunky but not fat.” Do you think she ever forgot that? Sure I could’ve handled it better, but I was 19 and dumb. Lose the entire fat thinking. It’s not about being a size 8 or 6, it’s about being healthy. I’m not suggesting you look in the mirror and say, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough…” Instead, switch your thinking to, “I’m going to be healthier!” This is the first step to actually being healthy. Once you decide to be one of those “healthy people” it will be easier to say yes to the gym and no to super-sized fries.

Healthy people do eat fries, they just eat a smaller portion. This brings us to step two: portion control is king. I recommend checking out this article from the Mayo Clinic. The website provides pictures and commentary. The biggest take away: eat more vegetables and less of everything else.

Eating healthy is not easy and that’s step three: plan your meals. Since you are now a healthy person, fill your fridge and pantry accordingly. If you know at 3pm you’re starving, have some almonds and celery handy. Take a minute before you grocery shop or visit a restaurant and think about a few things:

• What am I going to cook for dinner the next five nights?
• Do I have almonds, cheese, fruit, lean meat?
• Do I have fresh or frozen veggies at home?
• I’m going to order/cook grilled fish, chicken, tofu...
• I’m going to order/cook steamed veggies.

Making good eating decisions, is easy—following through is hard. That’s why you should reward yourself. Take one day a week and eat that cookie, have the ice cream, order dessert… As much as I love the combo of chocolate and peanut butter, each of my meals doesn’t end with a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

Step four: be an informed eater, and read the label/nutritional information! A while back I did an article about Cosi, Panera, Corner Bakery and the amazing amounts of fat and salt in their salads and sandwiches. If you don’t read the label, you are eating blindly. I’m not suggesting you google malodextrin, but look at what’s in your food. Some crazy dieters recommend only eating food with five or fewer ingredients, that’s difficult in this 100 calorie pack world we live in. Instead, compare labels and buy brands with lower sodium and fat. And remember, fiber keeps you full.

Sometimes, low salt means low flavor. That brings us to step five: spice it up! If you are cooking, instead of adding salt use other flavors. Garlic powder, onion powder, lemon, and celery seed are all excellent ways of adding a salty flavor without actually adding salt. Using spices also helps keep the fat content down. With the right amount of flavors, you can cut down on the use of oil and butter. You can also substitute apple sauce and pumpkin for butter and oil in recipes. My family says they can taste the difference between apple sauce and butter, but when I use less butter, no one notices (but that’s our little secret).

Now where’s the fitness advice? Well step six: workout hard! If you have 90 minutes a day free to workout, tell me how you do it. Most of us get 30-60 minutes. Make the most out of your workout by adding some high intensity exercise, like sprinting, jumping, or biking really fast. The most common question I get is, “What’s more important, weight training or cardio?” The answer is tricky, but for most people, weight training is more important. And I suggest you combine the two. When you are pumping iron, make every fourth exercise running, biking, jumping  rope… and then go back to the weight training. If this sounds confusing, email me at rkrit@fitwithkrit.com and I can explain in greater detail.

Now get back to work, grab a glass of water, and remember—you are a healthy person!

Clarity. It all started out with a cooking class. Well, me and our Ethiopian nanny cooking together. So, it was more of a lesson than a class, which I think ends up making more sense.

We hired an Ethiopian nanny because I strongly believe that when you adopt internationally, you bear a responsibility to keep the birth culture alive in the heart of your child. Prior to our daughter's arrival last October, I picked up a small, unintimidating book entitled something to the effect of, "Amharic made easy." First of all, I would like to say there is no such thing. The alphabet is different and the sounds are completely unfamiliar, which makes them extremely difficult to pronounce without guidance. I was deflated. I had imagined meeting my daughter, scooping her up in my arms and exclaiming in a paragraph (at least) of fluent Amharic about our love for her, her beautiful eyes, the weather, etc. This was clearly not going to happen. Not even close.

Once I realized, despite my great intentions, that I was not going to be able to teach my Ethiopian daughter Amharic, I knew I needed help. I reached out to a woman I had met through the Ethiopian Cultural Society. I told her I was looking for someone to teach my daughter Amharic and someone to teach me how to cook traditional Ethiopian food. She recommended someone. That someone, Mendena, came over to meet us and she, along with her sister, Sinta, have become an extended part of our family.

So, now back to the cooking lesson. Here I stood, pen and paper in hand, ready to take copious notes. All the requested ingredients sat sprawled on the kitchen counter. There were empty pots sitting wide open on the stove, awaiting Ethiopian deliciousness to be cooked inside them. "So...," I began as I observed potatoes being hand peeled. "How many potatoes do you cut?" I asked. Sinta replied with a shrug, "Oh, maybe three, four or five." My eye twitched a little. My writing hand stood still. "So, four?" I asked again. (Four was in the middle of those two numbers, so that made sense to me.)

"OK," Sinta replied. OK? Hmmmm. Sinta turned the fire on under the pot. Thirty or so seconds went by. Me: "Um, there's nothing in there." Sinta: "We warm the pot before we add the oil." I smiled. I wrote down, Warm pot for 30 or so seconds prior to oil.  Now we were getting somewhere. Sinta added oil. Me: "How much oil do you put in?" Sinta: "Some." Some? Some?! Excuse me, but what the hell? I'm taking notes! A tablespoon? Two? Some? Some does not translate in the world of cooking and recipe writing. I’m not happy.

Fast forward. There were onions, garlic, and salt. There were diced tomatoes, cabbage, lentils, green beans and carrots. There were ancient Chinese secret Ethiopian spices. In time, three pots bore amazing smelling food. I looked down at my pad of paper. No measurements. Instead I had written stuff like some, add when necessary, a little bit, or a little while.

I thought over what had happened. The whole process of cooking this meal had taken about an hour and a half. The meal could have been cooked in half that time. An American version of the same dishes would have included measurements, how thick or thin vegetables would be cut, cooking times and heating temperatures. But what I came to understand was that here in my small kitchen, I had learned a big lesson about myself and how my culture was so very different from my daughter's.

Sinta was passing on to me the experience she had in her kitchen growing up in Ethiopia. She stood watching her mom cook. Just time and repetition as her guide observing her mom cook over and over again until she got it. I asked Sinta and she said there were no written family recipes. I told her I was shocked…and delighted. This was a very new way of being in my kitchen for me. I felt like I was being given an incredible gift that I now would have the opportunity to share with my daughter.

I don't know if everyone in Ethiopia cooks this way. My sense is, that yes, it's just the way of living there. They have a consciousness geared towards family and tradition with no sense of urgency. That’s their daily life.

Now this may be a shock, but as incredible as an experience as it was, this cooking lesson did not make me Ethiopian. But it did give me an opening to start thinking about my own rushed and impatient American ways. My need for definitiveness and tangible results rarely allows me to stop and live in the moment. I am always four steps ahead. I am rushing here to get to there, and then, I'm rushing back. I have taken the time since this cooking experience to cook this food with friends. And while I am cooking, I am telling them what I learned in the process of it all. And I am present with the food and its preparation. I enjoy the experience of cooking each individual ingredient with no sense of urgency to jump to the next step.

Right now, my daughter just drags her doll around the kitchen while I cook. Sometimes she sits on my foot. I look forward to the day when she stands next to me, learning from me something she would have learned in her birth country. But for now, I savor the moment and am content with the Ethiopian spirit of simply being present. Because "present" is just another word for "gift."