The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

Gratitude

A Search for Joy in ‘Something New’

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Contemplating the Holidays Without My Extended Family

One of my brothers-in-law recently noted that the lack of family gatherings over the last seven months has thrown off his internal calendar. We have a large extended family–and it’s the celebrations and gatherings with those relatives that help mark the passage of time and distinguish one week, one month, one season from another.

If ever there was a time that we could benefit from the rhythm and joy of family gatherings, it’s now. And yet, if ever there was a time that we could benefit from staying away from each other, it’s now.

In past years: The author’s extended family at Christmas

So, what to do with the holidays? In normal years, we would host anywhere from 20 to 30-something on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. Our mid-century modern house isn’t huge, but its open floor plan allows everyone to be together in the same space whether cooking or engrossed in conversation. On Thanksgiving, we drag extra tables and chairs up from the garage, and each individual family contributes dishes and their labor to the effort. On Christmas, the base of the tree is smothered in gifts we exchange through Secret Santa and a hilarious Yankee Swap. I love watching the cousins of my children’s generation curl up together on our wraparound sofa like one long genetic sequence.

We are lucky: there is no embarrassing drunk uncle disrupting dinner. I am lucky: I never feel burdened by the toll of the work because there are so many hands offering help. If it sounds nauseatingly civilized, I suppose it is. I embrace the winter holidays with a passion that would provoke eye rolling among cynics, an association to which I belong the other ten months of the year.

This year with the pandemic still raging and travel fraught with peril, some of our family members are spread far enough away that they might as well live on another planet. My daughter, who just graduated from college in May, will be spending Thanksgiving in Alaska where she currently lives, returning for a week or two at Christmas. My son, a sophomore in college, is not allowed to come home for Thanksgiving unless he stays here through Christmas and winter break. So, we will be empty nesters for the first time ever at Thanksgiving. My sister recently moved to Green Bay, Wisconsin, to be with her daughter. I have two sisters-in-law who, with their families, live flights away, one in Europe. They haven’t seen any of their siblings (there are seven) or their ninety-three-year-old dad in nearly a year.

We’ve had a few conversations about the possibility of mini gatherings of six-ten. We’ve also considered the question, could Thanksgiving be held outdoors? We bought a restaurant-grade deck heater that could warm a handful of guests. But what if it rains or snows? We’re fortunate that our kids will be able to return home for Christmas. But because one will have been on a plane, the other on campus, we will likely stay clear of our extended family in December.

None of this is tragic of course–we are healthy, for now. More intimate versions of yearly traditions are hardly a disaster. The upside: a reasonable size turkey, one less tray of stuffing and more in-depth conversation.

I’ve noticed that my family and friends are careful not to complain too much about their pandemic malaise, acutely aware of the kind of emotional, physical and economic suffering that plagues so much of the country. There is guilt attached to wallowing when others have it worse. But perhaps one holiday gift we can give ourselves and those in our orbit is the freedom to acknowledge how much this has impacted us–changed us–left us without many simple joys, like connecting over a turkey and stuffing, around a tree, or to light candles.

As anyone who has had a birthday in this pandemic season understands, our celebrations this holiday season will be different–or at least they should be. And while they will be stunted, we may find in them something new, and some familiar comfort in their rhythms and joy.

The Inside Scoop on Discovering Chappaqua

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After living in Chappaqua for 23 years, it’s hard to imagine calling anywhere else home. Between raising my two wonderful kids here and running (since 2003) the Inside Press, a print and online publishing company – its flagship pub, Inside Chappaqua & Millwood regularly highlights the fun and fabulous options here – I can honestly tell you that I’m filled with joy and gratitude every single day. I am also always ‘discovering’ something new here, too, whether it is the opening of an exciting new arts venue like the Chappaqua Performing Arts Center, a new hiking trail or new shopping or dining option. It is with these sentiments that I’m pleased to present to you the Discover New Castle guide. I hope it will prove useful and handy to long-time residents and also to any visitor considering calling New Castle home too. The guide has been produced in collaboration with Town Hall and all its articles can be found on a Town Hall website called Discover Chappaqua. Discoverchappaqua.com intends to continue to support, advocate for and promote our beautiful town, and I applaud those efforts.

Adding a Personal Touch to Turkey Day

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There’s something almost primal about Thanksgiving in our country. Who among us doesn’t have at least some early memories of the day be it related to travel, cousins, football, parades and, stating the obvious, food! Sure, there’s a lot to be said about the meaning of this wonderful non-denominational holiday. The importance of family/friends gathering and showing gratitude for the bountiful meal and what it represents is a powerful and meaningful tradition. The holiday even has a nice story about pilgrims and native Americans initially appreciating the beautiful land and its kind abundance together. But I digress, for the purpose of this story, dear reader, you can undo the top button on your trousers, dip a cinnamon stick into your apple cider and care not about the burnt marshmallow at the bottom of the oven.

The day begins really early in our house. My wife Laurie handles the turkey expertly and in a stress-free manner. When it emerges many hours later it will be juicy, golden brown and so excessively large that I had wondered if it would actually fit in the oven. My childhood memories of Thanksgiving in no way involve how the table may have looked but as a modern host the “table-scape” has become an important element. I’m not involved in this in any manner other than posterity related photography (see below) and (sincerely) praising my bride’s fine eye as the table looks clean yet absolutely autumnal with orange/red/brown details. There might even be a few pinecones involved.


As Laurie crafts her turkey magic, I am tasked with preparing the stuffing and having it done before the bird goes in the oven. I make a lot of it. Enough to fill the bird and lots more as a supplement. Is there any more subjectively controversial food item than stuffing? It’s quite personal and it’s connected to the version one’s been most exposed to. When we first hosted the holiday years ago we’d have several different types of stuffing represented from both sides of the family. Inevitably (barely) civil debates would arise about which was superior. Every year my simple recipe (cornbread, onions, seasoning and an absurd amount of chicken stock) is exactly the same and our regular annual guests are now addicted. The other stuffing’s are now but a culinary memory. Another Pavlovian success story!

Speaking of subjectivity, I love the unique dishes of different family’s versions of the feast. Somewhere along the way I started making chopped liver (!) on Thanksgiving. Initially, it was just an appetizer that I enjoy and wanted to try making. People seemed to like it and Aunt Sally, a respected elder of our clan, would request it so now it is firmly entrenched in our delicious ritual. I did think that, perhaps, this ethnically defined dish might be contrary to the spirit of the day. However, when I learned that our friend Shira makes stuffed cabbage (really good!) for Thanksgiving, I concluded that slightly off-message dishes add depth to the experience.


Dessert on the big day can be complicated. Too many times after overeating, I had been rendered into submission by the time dessert was served. (*Note to young over-eaters from a seasoned veteran: Go easy on the appetizers, mashed potatoes, stuffing and biscuits ). I’m a traditional dessert guy. Love the pumpkin pie. Our one departure is an ice cream turkey which is an ice cream cake shaped like a turkey with caramel skin, waffle-cone drumsticks and two flavors of ice cream representing white & dark meat (mint chocolate chip & rocky road respectively). Some consider it kitschy, I embrace it as a fully legitimate annual dessert item.

A happy element of the day is working with Laurie hosting. One of my duties is preparing two gravies. One is a light au jus that comes directly from the pan and the other a more formal gravy which is silky and luxuriant. One Thanksgiving, I looked in our fridge and saw a container of store prepared gravy! Was I insulted? Yes. Was I going to confront my wife while she was preparing a meal for 25 people? No. I may be sensitive but I’m not crazy. The “back-up” gravy controversy has faded, this year’s feast is fast approaching and I cannot wait!

Our beloved caramel coated ice cream turkey cake PHOTOS BY DAN LEVITZ

Gratitude for Our Homes

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I have a confession to make. I didn’t want to live in this town. I had my heart set on a town in southern Westchester. My priority was walkability of a town; at the time I wasn’t driving so I envisioned walking everywhere. It seemed like the perfect transition to the suburbs from the city as the main street was dotted with cute restaurants and boutiques.

We looked and looked for months and nothing was fitting the bill. We saw a ton of fixer-uppers that were charming but with two young kids the idea of putting sweat equity into a home wasn’t appealing to us. My husband who grew up in the suburbs of Miami came to the conclusion that we needed more property too. He craved more land and privacy.

Luckily one of his colleagues mentioned Chappaqua and on our first trip there up the Taconic we stopped at a gas station with a large convenience store so I could properly fuel up with caffeine before going to see a dozen houses that day. My first impression was “Wow, this kind of reminds me of the Catskills. I don’t know if I can do this.” After all, I grew up in Queens and had lived in the city for ten years.

We must have looked at 60 homes in this town throughout a six-month period and my husband and I could not agree on any of them. Some seemed too large. Others seemed too isolated. I didn’t want to have to scream to my neighbors with a megaphone. But then we found it in the nick of time.

We had decided that last weekend in April on our home search that if we didn’t find a home, we’d put a deposit down for my son for another year of nursery school in the city and stick it out–four people in a cramped two-bedroom apartment.

The minute we saw it, we both knew it was “the one.” It had great natural light, wide spacious rooms. I envisioned the kids running around the large backyard and could picture them growing up there. The large dining room abutted the kitchen and was large enough for my whole family to have holiday dinners. The staircase would one day make a perfect backdrop for prom pictures. We made an offer that afternoon.

This fall, it has been eight years here and I love it. Sure, there have been ups and downs and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it took adjustment- from learning how to drive again to figuring out what the heck an HVAC company is. Home ownership requires maintenance and sometimes we are on our game and other times we’ve let things fall by the way side like our doorbell which hasn’t worked for almost a year. I’m embarrassed to admit it but we’ve been relying on our dog to tell us if someone is at the door.

As the holiday season is right around the corner, I’m reminded of a saying whose author is unknown: “A house is made with walls and beams. A home is made with love and dreams.” As you read articles on holiday recipes and get inspiration for your Thanksgiving table settings, I hope your house is filled with warmth and all your dreams get fulfilled.

Happy Thanksgiving,

The Joy of Gratitude

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“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” – Wayne Dyer

“Instead of always searching and grasping for more, gratitude allows us to appreciate what we have now. Cultivating joy requires building the gratitude muscle as part of our daily and weekly workouts. Only in this rep-set, we ditch the wishing, complaining and striving, and refocus on noticing what is going well in our lives right now, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

Learning to be grateful for life’s simple pleasures can certainly improve your mood and perception of life. I recall a day when my kids were small and I was taking them to get haircuts. Once in the car, my two adorable, precious children proceeded to fight like two alley cats in a scrap yard. As I drove along and listened to this free-for-all in the back seat, I would occasionally interrupt with a “Stop it!” or “Enough already!” When that didn’t seem to be effective, I started to get annoyed and then, for some reason, amidst all the noise and frustration, I just gave up.

As the boys continued to yell and exchange insults at each other, my mood turned from annoyance to amusement. It struck me that these two little boys were not going to be young forever, and I realized how lucky I was to have these daily moments with them, no matter how stressful. This total re-frame of the situation filled me with gratitude and the rest of our outing was not just tolerable, it was fun.

Gratitude brings us joy and turns what we already have into enough. Instead of striving for the next goal to bring you happiness, appreciate where you are right now. If it’s not your ideal place, remember that it’s just one chapter in your life’s story. Everything is temporary, for better or worse. Once you catch the gratitude bug, it replicates itself and even more joy streams into your life.”

Excerpt from Jodi Baretz’ Amazon best-selling book, Mindful Is the New Skinny. Jodi offers individual psychotherapy and mindful mom groups at The Center for Health and Healing in Mount Kisco. Visit jodibaretz.com.