Happiness is: Being Uncomfortable

Friends, happy morning from New York City, where your good friend Sarah is packing for Budapest while realizing that I am completely uncomfortable and vulnerable. 

 

Some days I feel my breathing speed up, my heart beat faster, as I feel a little lightheaded, wondering what the hell am I doing here in New York, in this kitchen, with this team.  Who do I think I am?  Why do I think I deserve to be in this kitchen, in this city, having this experience?  What if lose my clients and my “real” job and my income while I insist on working the kitchen job, too, where I get no pay whatsoever for about 33 hours a week of work?  But let’s back up a moment.

 

This morning I am sipping my coffee, listening to Nikka Costa’s “Happy in the Morning” (one of my very favorite songs of all time, ever) and thinking again about my time in the kitchen and here in New York and how I can feel things shifting, growing, changing in me.  I meditate every morning as I write to you, and putting my thoughts into words helps me figure out what I really think and feel while also helping me preserve the real-time sensations in a way that is keenly aware of myself.  I prefer to shower you all with attention and fussing, because I am happiest in the background, helping you just shine, shine, shine so bright, but this 20 minutes is just for me, to help me confirm that I am still on the path I am meant to be.  It sets the tone for my whole day, and I will always have it, just for me, no matter where in the world I am.  This is my ritual, and it is a must, every day. 

 

Sometimes it is overwhelming, sometimes I feel so lost and like I am standing on a crumbling cliff that just might send me tumbling to my perhaps death or maiming (which is the only thing I am actually afraid of), and sometimes I feel like I am the lightest feather in the air, because the physical feelings inside of pure joy and humility and being lit up and thrilled like a kid who gets their first bike at Christmas, confirm for me that this slippery little unsteadiness is exactly where I am meant to be. 

 

My God do I love being in that kitchen. 

 

 

It just feels…right.  It feels right even on the days like Tuesday, when I stopped, mid-chop of 27 heads of cauliflower, with a furrowed brow, a look of absolute confusion and panic, and said out loud to my Sous Chef, who oversees my work, “What am I even DOING here?!” in a moment of complete disorientation, before I snapped out of it and pushed back that insecurity.  I am quite sure he might think I am absolutely crackers crazy, and he may be right.  But he puts up with me, he shakes his head and rolls his eyes gently, and with a little smile, just the littlest smirk, and with a very steady, patient voice, says to me, “Sarah, this is fun, remember?  Keep working.”  And so, I do remember that it is fun, and I do remember that this is where I am meant to be, that I chose this, and I do keep working and having fun.

 

It is uncomfortable.  It is scary.  It is sometimes lonely.  It is often a blur, until I get back to my quiet little rented furnished apartment and clear the “monkey chatter” in my brain and actually take quiet time to think on what I am going through at this moment.  I go home, and I sit on my rented couch and I rub my very tired feet and sit in the quiet for about 20 minutes, just thinking, just letting the feelings and thoughts come through my head, making me shrink in embarrassment or light up with a huge grin on my face as I remember moments of the days in the kitchen.  This path, this learning, at this stage in my life (get it?  stage?) is a particularly interesting gift in its timing, as now that I am a bit older/wiser and have success and failures both in my past stories, I am able to look at these current moments with a set of eyes and heart that are incredibly and fully aware of all the little nuances of feelings.  And I like it. 

 

I like the uncomfortableness.  I like the vulnerability.  I like not being sure of myself.  I like it, because I know, now, in my life, that these are the most important moments of all.  These are the moments where I get to know myself and people around me.  These are the moments that I shore up places and parts of myself that are not so strong, so that later on, I will be strong in those parts.

 

I want to tell that Chef, “You go right ahead.  Put me through my paces.  Make me excellent. Shape my work and the way I think, so that I understand it and you and this kitchen better, in order to help me find my own path, my own style.  Push me.  Challenge me.  Shame me and praise me and push me down and bring me back up, because I.  Am.   Ready.”  I trust him.  I trust him to not break me or crush me in the process. 

 

I’ll tell you what, Friends, I am all about being pushed and challenged, but you have to choose the people in your life who you allow to do this for you.  I chose badly a few times, and until I got my self esteem back, it did a lot of emotional damage and made me live in self-doubt and sadness for years—f’ing YEARS of putting up with that bs.  Choosing someone you can absolutely trust to look out for you and help you be vulnerable so that you CAN shine is critical.  And I trust this Chef, this leader, this now new Friend of mine.  I switch from being his kitchen stage/slave to being his peer, when I am dressed in my street clothes and am CEO Sarah again.  I trust him to see me at my absolute, unvarnished worst, so that he can assess and comment and make me figure out how to once again be my best.  What a gift that is.  Do you have people in your life you can really trust to do that for you?  I do.  I am so lucky, Friends, because I do.

 

I choose it.  I seek those people out, and I trust my gut, now, to know who will be there for me and help me and who will take advantage of my kindness and generosity and my vulnerability.  Any person who brings you close and then mocks you for trusting them needs to exited, immediately, from your life.  Pay attention, Friends, because this writing is no longer about the kitchen, but about life.  Only you can do that for you, no one else.  Your situations are about your own choices, and only you can keep or change them, but you must have courage, and you must value yourself enough to do it.

 

Friends, today as you think about your day ahead, I encourage you to go find people who push you and shape you and show you YOU, FOR you, so that you can be your best, so that you can learn all the things you cannot see unless you have a mirror to show you.  Choose wisely, though, because there are people who will want to put you down and step hard on you, as you climb to your higher places, only because they do not have the courage and strength in themselves and want to keep you down only to keep themselves more comfortable. 

 

I promise you, you can do it.  You will do it.  You will shine so bright, and I cannot wait to meet you for dinner and talk all about it and how uncomfortable it was and how happy and strong you are now.  I want to hear about how you see the world differently, more gratefully, in all its joy that comes from knowing you can get through anything, because you can.  I am so happy to see you grow and learn and be your best self.  Friends, you can be vulnerable with me, because I learned and am learning from the best, on how to be vulnerable myself.  I am so lucky to have so many of you in my life who help me do that, thank you.

 

Wishing you a good Saturday today, as I pack my bags and prepare to push my conference attendees and speakers to be vulnerable themselves, so that we can all shine brighter and better, together. 

 

Lots of love from New York, soon to be Budapest.

 

Your Good Friend Sarah

 

 



Happiness is: Cooing and Coaxing

Friends, good morning from beautiful New York City, where your good Friend Sarah is looking back on the last year and realized that I think in pictures and meals.  This is how I remember conversations that are life changing and all the people who were there when those things happened. 

I can look at a picture of a meal that I took and tell you when and where it was, who was there, and why that dinner was important.  I remember having my first taste of whale while in Oslo, Norway, with Dag, as I talked about the stirrings of needing change in my life.  Dag is my confidante, one of my closest confidantes with whom I can be completely myself, guard down, dreams laid out on the table, and he’s one of the people I trust most to listen and hear me and give feedback and challenge me and encourage me in ways most other people cannot, because I am very, very hard on myself.  I adore him, it’s true.  He is one of the only people I run to, and I mean RUN to, in every airport we meet.  We were in Australia, Paris, Brussels, Norway, Minneapolis and New York this year, working hard and playing hard, but most importantly, LIVING.

 I remember his and his Friend Thomas' holiday at my place this past summer, when we had a glorious dinner at La Belle Vie, my other home away from home and a restaurant close to my heart, where the Chefs spoiled us crazily that night....so happy.

 

I remember Family Night at La Belle Vie this past summer, where the dinner was only for industry peeps, and I was included.  I tried to be super cool and brought a special present for the staff.  I’ll tell you that story over a beer sometime, because it turned out to be quite the night that surprised just about everyone, thinking sweet little Sarah could never pull off the stunt I did that night.  I should have ended up in jail, I’m pretty sure. 

 

I like surprising my Chef Friends.  They encourage me like no one else in the world is able to do.  Here are Tim (La Belle Vie) & Landon (Haute Dish, otherwise known as my “cousin” Landon, we look so much alike in some pictures we probably should be related) on Family Dinner Night, and Landon & Lorin (La Belle Vie, Heyday) and Bill (La Bell Vie).  I missed Diane’s pastry course because I could not keep my act together.  Long story, but I regret it to this day, because that girl, that Chef, is incredibly talented and is one of my biggest cheerleaders, plus, we have a lot of fun when we’re out and about, checking out the scene.

 

 

 

Here are pictures of my lunch with Chef Jimmuh at Zen Box on South Washington in Minneapolis, where we made plans about restaurants and life.  John Ng and Lina Goh (owners of Zen Box) were also at Family Night at La Belle Vie, and I dig their ramen and Japanese pickles. I am craving them today, as usual.

 

Chef Jimmuh and I also checked out Left Handed Cook, which was the precursor to The Rabbit Hole, Minneapolis’ new Korean gastropub, both by Thomas Kim and Kat Melgaard, who not only opened a new restaurant but also had their first baby, all within 2 weeks of each other.  Love them and miss them a lot, too, along with their Korean fried chicken, naturally.  Jimmuh and I had the 21 spice Korean spice chicken as we talked about the shifts going on in the dining scene in Minneapolis and Belgium and Denmark, where he staged at Noma.  I am excited to have him preview their new restaurant menu in my loft before opening.  If you’re lucky, and if you talk all sweet to me, you just might end up on the invite list.  I’m looking at you, Jason DeRusha, and the rest of you, too.

I thought of the authentic Mexican mole I had with Drew in southern California a couple weeks ago, as we made plans to set up a business venture and took time to just recharge our batteries.  He’s a pediatric oncologist, and his dad did my thyroid biopsy back when things were a bit hectic in my life a few years ago.  Drew is family to me, and this meal was important, as was our talk, because it is going to mean exciting changes and new adventures ahead, working alongside another of the people I trust most in the world in business and in life.  We started putting the pieces in place, the first pieces, here, over this lunch.

 

I remember dinner at Salinas, here in NYC, with Juan, one of my vascular surgeons who always tells me things about myself I never would have thought to think---he is one of those people who gives me energy in a way that makes me climb and do and be more than I ever thought I could—all while looking good and laughing all night long.  We can have crucially honest conversations about business and life, and he is one of the people I respect most in the world.  I WILL HAVE his mom’s bacalhau (salted cod) recipe, mark my words.  We have traveled and eaten our way through Berlin, New York, Minneapolis, and he listens to my ideas and helps pare them, shape them, polish them.  He also mocks my college level Spanish, which is fantastic of him, as he also teaches me the key phrases to use to open doors that normally would not be opened for an American girl while traveling.

 

 

 

 

I remembered the Minnesota Potluck party we threw at my house this past summer, where Harley and Jill brought a super unusual and cool craft beer tasting (the craft beer movement is exploding across Minneapolis, with so many new breweries opening, including one that is 2 blocks from my loft, yay!).  All of my fantastic Friends brought Minnesota dishes to share when Dag visited Minneapolis---the party I threw together within 3 hours of my flight touching down from Boston.  Great night that night.  I think I’m still a bit hungover just remembering it, and I love that.

In the background you can see 1/3 of my cookbook collection, most of which I have sat on my lounge reading, looking over the skyline of my home city, getting inspired and making dreams and plans of life ahead while in my little loft in Minneapolis.

Here in New York, I picked up the Eleven Madison Park cookbook and saw this picture of one dish. 

I just stared at it for about 20 minutes, taking it all in, letting my brain work its quiet magic in the background, seeing things differently, switching on all the creativity neurons, helping me get ready to prepare a slideset on what I lovingly referred to as absolute nerdery over Thanksgiving dinner yesterday.  I am chairing a conference on ethics and regulations in Belarus, Russia, Turkey & Kazakhstan, and leading the panel discussions on a compare and contrast with EU regulations (which I helped shape and co-write/review) and US, Australia, Japan and Canada regulations. 

I will be sitting alongside and leading the conversations all day for all presentations from speaker representatives from the Competent Authorities from each of those countries.  “Competent Authority” = their version of FDA.   There is some intense pressure here, as I will be guiding and facilitating the conversation of the highest people in their government who give the go/no-go decisions about whether or not my research projects get approved to start in their countries, and so I will be doing the charming Sarah dance while showing respect and deference.  I will, of course, also be telling them what is helpful and what perhaps could benefit from a little nuanced change here and there from my perspective, in order to help those countries be even more desirable as places/doctors for my teams to select when setting up medical research projects.  See that?  Smooth Sarah is getting her best dress on and is ready to make nice.  Just watch me do it, because I love those moments, when I can both divide and bring together an audience, working through tough conversations while always, always moving us forward, closer, in the end.

 

My role is not the important one here…mine is to set people up for success and be the facilitator that allows them to be the ones who shine.  That’s my favorite role of all, and that is why I cannot be a Chef.  I am so much better in the background, so much better giving affection and praise and making people FEEL good about doing hard things and having the rewards from it.  I love that part about being a woman…it goes deep into my core, that sense of cooing, coaxing, shaping, setting expectations, and then sitting back and watching the magic happen.

 

THAT is what a geek I am: right now I am listening to Glenn Gould playing Bach’s Goldberg Variations, switching off with A Tribe Called Quest and Cypress Hill, writing slides for regulations, dreaming of my time in the kitchen, and packing for Budapest as my laundry dries.  I am a study in contrast, a strange mix of right and left brain, a duality and tri-ality and quad-rality, and I would have it no other way.  I plan on discussing these countries’ food scene with them, telling them the places and things I love and want to learn more about, as a way to bring us closer together even in our conversations about differences.  Recognizing beautiful things in everyone’s culture is not only a sign of respect, it’s pretty cool, because in all the things that make us different, there are some things, like being around a table over a meal, sharing laughter and smiling at each other, is universal.  These things make me happy, so very happy, and I am looking so forward to this trip.

 

So my Friends, today I encourage you find things that are opposites yet linked together in interesting ways, to keep you fresh, to light you up inside, to inspire you, so that you, too, are cooed and coaxed and energized to go do everything you want to do in life. And as you go along this path, be sure to stop and thank all the people who quietly, all around you, give you the place and space to think and dream and be inspired, because whether you realize it or not, them living their dreams is helping you live yours.  We are so lucky to have each other.  Don’t ever forget it.

 

Signing off from New York, full of inspiration and joy,

Your Good Friend Sarah











Happiness is: A Little Top and Bottom in the Kitchen

Friends, good morning from New York, where your good friend Sarah continues to be humbled on a daily basis.

In my line of medical work, as I progressed up the corporate ladder, a big company I used to work for put me on The Path, which means I was identified as a leader and sent through a professional coaching process. In this process, I was put through multiple simulations of situations so that expert psychologists could gauge my reactions and let the company know if I was, indeed, leadership material.  Over the course of the coaching, I had to perform odd tasks as if I was going through my day as upper management: reviewing emails, prioritizing responses, delegating tasks, managing budgets, communicating information and expectations, and navigating sensitive ethics.  I had to role play firing someone.  I had to role play giving praise, giving good news and bad news and changed news.  I had to review documents and prepare summaries for management above me, management below me, and the overall organization I managed.  It was bizarre, and it took a lot of time.  It cost them about $25,000, no joke.  This company paid just under the median salary of a family of four, to have me evaluated.  I scored a 98%.  I beat my then current boss by 1%.  He never let me forget it.

 

The problem and the good news about me knowing my results is that I realized I was better than I ever in a million years thought I was.  I never considered myself to be a leader, but looking back, I always was:  Student Body President, Newspaper Editor, lead in the plays, solo performer, conference leader, project manager, teacher, professor.  I should not have been surprised, but I never saw myself that way, maybe because I was so busy trying to please people and Accomplishing Great Things instead of living life and taking time to take it all in.  It took me looking at myself from someone else’s perspective to tell me who and what I was, because I had never filtered my world that way.  Don’t get me wrong---I still have PLENTY to learn, but I never thought of myself as anything special or different or, I suppose, “worthy” of being “chosen” to lead. 

 

Once I figured it out, and once I realized I scored higher than my boss, I realized my own potential, which is a double-edged sword.  Suddenly I knew what I could do with my life, and opportunities and ideas came flooding in.  I knew I could not stay in that golden parachute job, I could not parrot corporate speak I did not believe 100%, I could not do and say the things managers are expected to do and say “for the best of the company” in a higher and higher role.  One day, after learning entrepreneurship in my master’s program alongside cadaver work alongside vascular surgeons, and after learning myself well enough, I knew things had to change in order to preserve my sanity and be true to myself.  Only after some really difficult situations, where I was given information and situations I knew I would not be able to lead, since my internal beliefs and choices and expectations put on me in situations that I was expected to follow did not align.  For all of you lawyers out there, I am not disparaging a company that is excellent, I am only stating that our visions of situations did not align.  Allegedly.  And so, I left.  I finished that master’s degree, and I set up my own companies, first one in the US, and then one in Belgium.  I have never been happier, but it has been an incredibly crushing amount of stress and hard work.  I would not have it any other way.

Cue my restaurant gigs.

 

Here in this New York kitchen I now work in, I am the lowest of the low.  I am the student.  I wear an honest to God paper frycook hat, worse than what they wear at McDonalds.  I have to learn from scratch tasks that should be so simple, like using a mandolin to cut perfectly identical slices of apple to make into apple chips coated in a simple syrup and dehydrated until crisp.  These end up “only” being a garnish.  I found the task difficult, because when I cook at home, perfection is not expected---deliciousness is.  I am not so good at keeping the thickness and the pressure of my fingers and thumb just right, steady, through 300 itty bitty slices of apple in order to have each one perfectly identical.  And I must learn this.  I must. This restaurant is about perfection, is about consistency.  Each thickness and shape must be exactly the same.  We get it right every time.  Every plate.  Every single time.  I need to pull my weight, and I do not yet know how to yet, in my hands, though I do in my head.

 

 

This little stage in the kitchen is humbling. I am not the CEO.  I am not the gatekeeper that determines if a surgical case goes forward or not, based on my review of the ridiculously and importantly detailed paperwork, the patient’s medical history, the surgeon’s qualifications and training.  I am the stage.  The student.  The learner.  I take orders and ask for approval rather than giving it. It is such a relief to have this balance in my life again that when asked why I was there, in that kitchen, I jokingly responded, “I am weary of being in charge, and I do not want to burn out.  It’s cheaper than a dominatrix.”  The look on that Chef’s face was priceless, because I think he was not so sure if I was joking or serious because I kept a very serious face while I explained things to this very talented 20-something year old who is still getting to know me.  (For the record, I am not in need of dominatrix services, so don’t go getting all excited.  Everyone knows there can only be one Queen Bee, and we ALL know who that is, ahem.)

 

I’ll tell you what, Friends, there are moments I have to check myself before I wreck myself, because I am used to being the one in charge.  I have to stop and think to myself, “You are the not expert.  Shut the hell up and put your head down and try again and get it right.”  Do not get me wrong, this kitchen is patient and kind, much more than I ever expected, but as a businesswoman I am keenly aware of the cost of inventory, and that means cost per apple.  If I screw up, the restaurant loses money instead of makes money, and that’s on me.  I do not want to let this team down.

 

I feel pressure in a different way here:  not to lead or coach or teach or manage, but instead to learn, to watch and listen and soak up knowledge and practice a million apples and cabbage slices at home, to get it right, because I want to get it right.  This kitchen is hard work, every day, and I love it every day, tired as I am of managing both jobs:  one that pays the bills, and the other that teaches me things that companies would pay $25,000 for.  I do this because I am curious about myself and how I fit again in that role, and because I want to be even better for my clients, my doctors, our patients, and the people in my life.  I learn to be a better teacher by being taught.

 

I chose this restaurant because I feel joy in that kitchen, I feel safe to learn in that kitchen, I feel like I am surrounded by excellence in that kitchen.  I will learn from the best in that kitchen, and let me tell you, I have a lot to learn.  For that, today, I am grateful.  They think I am learning about kitchen skills, but I am learning so very much more from all of them.

 

Friends, today I want to encourage you to put yourself in situations that teach you about yourself from completely different angles.  Flip your life a bit, to understand yourself and the people around you better.  Be on the bottom so that you can be even better when on top. Learn, listen, and never forget that you have people around you who are so much better than you, always.   Do not be dismissive, and instead be open, and take all of those lessons in about apples and cabbage and watching how each different chef teaches the other and how you are perceived and measured and coached and praised.  We have something to learn from everyone, and I am so grateful that I have the opportunity to learn from this team.  I like a little bottom and top in my life, because balance is where I am my happiest, and I am lucky and thankful to have found it here in New York.

 

Wishing you lots of love and a little humility now and then, too.

Love from New York, soon to be Budapest,

Your Good Friend Sarah



Happiness Is a Happy Thanksgiving

Friends, good morning and Happy Thanksgiving from New York, from your good friend Sarah.

Today is a beautiful day in New York City, and I am thankful to have the day off from both jobs and also for the chance to connect with college Friends as we celebrate Thanksgiving together.  I was supposed to work today, but last minute switched to Wednesday instead, and so I have the day free.  In the restaurant world, you work holidays, and I am lucky to have this one off. 

I am missing my family today and the chaos of our get togethers, but Thanksgiving has become something different of a tradition, in that it includes for me a much sweeter awareness of thankfulness for the good people in my life.

 

I remembered our Thanksgivings in Brussels, where I introduced our traditional food to Friends from New Zealand, England, Ireland, Holland, Italy and, of course, all of us Americans who were missing home.  Here we are at Bart’s and Caroline’s houses, celebrating so much to be thankful for, even that ridiculously small Belgium oven which barely fit our French turkey that I so painstakingly and lovingly prepped.

 

I remember John, my father figure, whom we lost a year ago.  I remember saying my private goodbyes to him, so heartbreaking and sad, yet at the same time feeling so happy to welcome all the kids back home, and how I took over that kitchen and was cooking sweet potato pie and huge pans of lasagna to host the family and mourners who stopped by his house in Atlanta.   I remember holding little Olivia on my hip as I stirred and mashed and mixed, with Casani asking me when dinner would be ready.  Such a moment of what it would have been like to have kids of my own.  Sometimes I wonder about it, what would have been, if things had worked out differently.  I think it would have been alright, really.  I sure do have a tendency to want to fuss over people, after all.

 

I miss John every day and am so thankful to have had his wisdom and guidance and encouragement and love.  He would be so proud of me having moved to New York to learn so much in this kitchen, because he would understand that it is not about only learning kitchen skills, it is re-learning what it is like to be at the bottom of the totem pole, to be the one who has to learn from the ground up.  He would know it’s about re-learning how to learn, how to teach, how to not be the CEO and instead be the stage.  Sometimes you have to see your life through another’s wiser eyes to know and re-learn your own strengths and weaknesses. 

 

 

It’s hard some days, without him, and I imagine him quietly laughing and saying, “Is that a fact?” as I would tell him stories of this and that about my latest adventures and travels.  Be thankful today, Friends, for the people you have in your life, who love you and support you and help you be exactly what and who you are meant to be.  Today I will reach out to his boys and laugh about the naughtiness the kids have been up to, and we will say our I Love Yous and I Miss Yous and It’s Been Too Longs.  I need to make my way down to Atlanta to see them all again soon, because time moves too fast if you don’t stop and make time for the people and adventures that are most important, so be sure you take time to be present and enjoy, really enjoy, those that you love best this year, and be thankful for them.  The people you choose to be your Friends become your family, too, and I am lucky to have a very big family of good people who look out for me.

I remember a Thanksgiving at my mom’s house, where I brought home my college Friend Georgie for Thanksgiving, with our huge table overloaded with food, and how my family, being as large as it is, devoured all of it---ALL of it, within about 12 minutes.  Oh do we laugh about that story and how strange it must seem to people who are not used to chaos on holidays like we always have.  In a big family, if you don’t move quickly, you might miss the stuffing.  I am thinking of my brother and his wife and kids in California, of my brother in Michigan, my sister and her husband and daughter who will meet up at Mom’s house, about my stepbrother who is busy planning his July wedding, about my other stepbrother and half brother and half sister and my whole big family, near and far, wondering what dish will be forgotten in the fridge this year instead of served at the table.  Chances are, it’s the cranberries.

 

I am thinking of my goddaughters and Friends Kate & Jeff up in Vermont today, salivating over Kate’s menu and looking forward to a decent hour when I can call them and hear their sweet voices telling me about ballet and flute lessons, piano and clarinet, whether their new goldfish has died, and how the chickens are faring with the change in weather.  I miss them and love them and look forward to seeing them after the New Year.

 

I remember looking forward to the move here to New York and figuring out what I could afford for flights home for holidays, realizing I would not be home for Thanksgiving this year and wondering what it would be like in New York. 

 

And so here I am, in my little apartment, with the sun shining in as I drink my coffee, reading the Eleven Madison Park cookbook in between packing for Budapest, getting dressed for a long jog through Central Park, getting ready for Susan to pick me up to take me to Thanksgiving, and thinking of all of you, busy in your plans, getting ready for your feasts far and wide across the world today.  How lucky we are to be happy and healthy, with the people we love and having even more people we love far away.  Sometimes missing people is a good thing, because you know the love is strong there, and that is definitely something to be thankful for.  Today I am thankful for you, just as you are, chaos or not, turkey or not, just you.  Thank you for being such wonderful Friends in my life and making it so much fun.

 

Sending lots of love from New York, across the world, to you,

 

Your Good Friend Sarah



Happiness is: Kitchen Shopping and Walking the City

Friends, good morning from New York City, from your good friend Sarah.  Here is the view from my apartment, as I look up the street, towards the Park.

Today is a busy day of writing two audit reports, an FDA inspection summary, and reviewing about 300,000 lines of safety data in Excel.  Somewhere in between those tasks I have the happy pleasure of going shopping for my stint at the restaurant in which I am staging. 

Chef gave me a shopping list.  So far it includes going to JB Prince for equipment and Korin for Japanese knives.  In the meantime, here are some more shots of my daily walks through my new third home town, New York, that I thought you might like to see. 

 

We love our firemen here, and we take good care of them.

 

 

We love the Waldorf, especially since it has undergone a huge renovation in the lobby (though the rooms are really hit or miss).  The details of even the ceilings is just lovely.  Having the Waldorf Salad at the Waldorf is one of those silly and wonderful bucket list items I got to experience, and I loved it.

 

 



We love the characters that come to New York, including Geno, seen here with me at the Waldorf, along with some women who were trying desperately to get their attention (and their money, which I have no interest in; hence why Geno and I were able to become Friends and still stay in touch).

 

 

We love to walk at night, seeing the city all lit up and beautiful.  Here are pictures of the little garden in front of 30 Rockefeller Center, along with the display they had, back in June, when I was here on business.  It is a beautiful place that now is all lit up for Christmas, including the skating rink.  I love it there.

This is one of my favorite pictures.  This couple was just lovely, and they were so happy.

And so, Friends, as I head to Starbucks to write my reports and make my slides for teaching in Budapest next week, along with my data reviews, I bid you a happy adieu, as I get ready for Day 2 in the restaurant tomorrow.  May you have a good day of working hard, but may you also slip in a little field trip of your own, a trip of inspiration and joy about little things that help you dream of dinners around your table, surrounded by the people you love best.  Happiness is the balance of the two, and that is what I have today.

 

With lots of love from New York, soon to be Budapest,

Your Good Friend Sarah