I want to say that I was a daddy’s girl. 

I’m almost 40 so some of the memories are a little fuzzy lol. My parents split when I was a little over ten. My father and I didn’t really have many experiences together after that. I never knew a second home with him. When we were together it was always in the street. Having dinner and talking for a few before he took me home.

 I always wondered why he never brought me to where he lived. Why he never tried to connect me with his other family. I had a lot of questions then and now. They’ll remain unanswered but that’s ok, I’m not here to tell those stories right now. 

From what I remember, my father was never a disciplinarian.

As a man who wrestled with his demons, particularly alcoholism-most of what I recall involves some stage in the intoxication circle. I will say, I never experienced him being violent or mean. I did however, see him get hurt countless times, including a slip and fall in the shower. Several times where he cut himself ( as a diabetic this was a major issue) and the occasional mugging he experienced. 

This doesn’t sound like someone who could really take the moral ground. What I remember was a lot of comedy relief, a lot of hugs and kisses with his raspy mustache. ( THAT I HATED! the ‘stache not the affection) and some really random things I’ll save for another post as they are too precious for me to share at this moment. 

There were about three times where he played the Dad card.

 I can’t really remember the reason, other than he probably had asked me not to run or something like that in the house. Of course I was defiant and again, a daddy’s little girl. He casually threatened me with the chancla. So naturally I ran in circles in front of him while he was watching tv. At some point, the chancla made contact with my tiny baby ass and the world crumpled beneath me. 

I felt betrayed. 

It didn’t even hurt, and if it had, it still wouldn’t have made a difference. It was the fact that he, my father, did anything else but love me and let me get away with it. I recall immediately crying giant wet tears. I also remember that before the chancla came off my person, he had me in his arms. basically apologizing to me, which made me cry even more. He said he didn’t want me to get hurt, which was ironic, cause did you not just hit me with a sandal? I knew what he meant then. I deserved it because he patiently warned me a million times. Yet I insisted that I needed to have my way and thwack,

the chancla slap heard round the world happened. 

As an adult, I can see how problematic all that was. How it also created a soul memory that will later carry into my relationships with men. I demanded to be allowed to do anything I wanted. With no repercussions or protests and although that attitude helped me also survive a hell of a lot of traumatic experiences, it was really toxic.

The second time was when I wanted to hang out with the neighbor’s son.

They lived below us. My mom and his mom were friends, which meant we played together all the time. So mom had to step out and I was left with my dad at home. I reminded dad I was allowed to go play, and he said, “Sure, after lunch.” Didn’t think anything of it. He sat me at the table and says “You have to eat all your food and then you can go.” “OK!”  I must have said, or something like that, as I happily bounced on the chair. In a moment, he placed the plate of buttered noodles ( one of my favorite things) in front of me, and my heart sank. 

Might as well have put the whole colander in front of me

because let me tell you, there was a pound of pasta on my plate. NO EXAGGERATION. I took the fork and began eating. Long story short, I was at the table, stuffed to the point of throwing up, but hardly made a dent. “Daddy, I’m full now! I ate a lot! Can I go now?”  He sat next to me, leaned over and said “Did you finish all your food?” eyebrows raised in question. “No, but you gave me a lot!” I said, annoyed and pouty. 

He goes on to explain why I wasn’t going to play. I did not hold up my end of the bargain. I remember arguing the only point I had. Which was that he cooked the entire box and expected ME to eat all that when clearly, I had eaten more than my share, it was just too much. 

No. 

Betrayed again. 

I never had the chance to ask him why he did that. I can guess it had everything to do with me going to play with a “Boy”. Especially that I would be going to his house, and was totally out of sight. I think my parents had a conversation about it at some point. I don’t really remember being able to hang out with Brian often after that.  It was his way of protecting me from men. Was it toxic? Yea, but bless his spirit for trying and not knowing any better.

**( So randomly having a conversation with my mom and I ended up getting the answer to this mystery. At some point I was wearing a dress and Brian lifted my skirts. My father was pissed AF, now we know!)

 As a young adult, in a very heated argument with my ex I let fly

“If my daddy was still alive, you’d be dead.”

Somewhere inside of me, I believed, as some little girls do growing up, that their father would protect them. That they would give their lives for you, and probably commit several crimes, including murder. We had been estranged for years before his passing. He was dead and gone, but I gave myself permission. In that instance to invoke his spirit of protection in a moment of danger and it worked. 

The third time, I had just gotten my first tattoo.

It was a classic tramp stamp! I was 18 in a crop top and the lowest-low rise jeans invented. I was hanging out with all the loading dock guys. Showing off my ass when he comes flying out all flustered and basically says I can never meet him at his job ever again. We were like two rams butting heads now. Both of us making points as to why the other was being ridiculous and neither of us budged at all. Finally he tries to hit me with

I’m too young for tattoos, and shouldn’t have them, anyway.

I take a step back, observe his late summer outfit of shorts and a t shirt then gesture at his whole person. “Dad. You’re literally COVERED in tattoos ,like there’s no room to even see your skin!” he hits me with the usual “well, I’m a man” and got the famous face I make at men who say dumb things to me. 

Thrice betrayed. 

Eleggua has been with me, watching me, taking care of me, all of my life. The steps leading to being initiated in the ATR of Lukumi /Regla Ocha, I have been fortunate to have a down to earth (literally) connection with this orisha. I haven’t had the opportunity to see many of his mounts in person. Our interactions are mostly through divination and the random eshu in the street. When I say we are close, I mean that any reading I have had, Eleggua manages to speak about all the hidden things I keep inside of my brain. He pulls the thread and releases them into the light to bring me peace and understanding.

I have had the craziest experiences

with random people on the street giving me the advice I so desperately needed in that moment. He has approached me to say that I was beautiful. To keep my head up and smile through my pain. He has complimented my food scraps, and always offers his blessing. His child once entertained me with an air violin. I am truly humbled and blessed.

He has been the father I always needed. 

 The countless times  el saco la cara pa’ mi ( stuck his neck out )  I’ve been in crazy situations that I don’t think I would have survived if he wasn’t always watching me. He held my hand and dragged me through several thresholds I needed to cross. Things were kind of a hot mess before I made Ocha and honestly I didn’t think I was ever going to make it. Then the worst happened.

Eleggua embarrassed me. Publicly. 

I wanted to die. I went home and I threw myself at him, cried aggressively and just kept asking why. The way that all went down, was awful from start to finish. He mounted someone I was having issues with. I get left on the floor, and the whole room is staring at me, then I get thrown into the throne, given a very short time line and my “godsiblings” were laughing at me. 

I felt so betrayed by him.   

Overnight something shifted though and I was walking my basket over to my Madrina’s house. Anyone who in their adult life works towards initiation knows the struggle, and the millions of obstacles. Eleggua sent one of his kids to help us all get there through laughs, fights, strife, tambores on the 6 train, great food, dim sum and the magic that eleggua’s kids bring to a situation – RESOLVIMOS ! 

Year 2010 :

In Ita as the first to always speak, he straight up said, I never betrayed you. legit, that’s in my book.

I’m your dad, love it or hate it  I’m going to show you how awful the world is but also how great it is too. By the way, if I ever have to show you how dumb YOU are, its not going to be cute. Im not going to spare you because I promise that I have warned you, tried to help you etc so

I’m going to let you trip.

When you’re on the ground, bleeding and crying, I’m going to stare at you for a moment.  We are gonna lock eyes, so you know I’m literally watching you cry,  then pick you up ,throw peroxide on the cuts then take you for a soda float, because you’re my child and I love you, but please, try and see where I’m coming from, so we don’t have to do this. (that’s not really how he said it but but that’s how it came across). 

Fast forward to 2019

Eleggua says, hey, you have an idea, and I like this for you, I saw what you started last year and I’m on board, lets get it! 

2020 Eleggua says

Ok, ok… there were a few bumps on the road, I know how you get, but can you try to move past them and let’s make it work? You got this , just have to be creative about it, use ALL the things…. 

Pandemic hit! I shut down, and haven’t recovered. 

2021 Eleggua says

You raggedy ass bitch, I TOLD YOU several years ago to get it together and now look at you? This is going to be one hell of a year, you thought it was bad before but child… You’re going to trip if you’re not careful… if you do… remember what I said about that?

 :: insert pursed lips::  Also… I’m still trying to help you….

January came and hit me with a bomb I thought I would never recover from but I managed, still managing it,  then May happened and I cosmically tripped. 

May 2021 OYA says

MOVE ASIDE ELEGGUA, leave her on the floor!!! Did you hear what your father said? Eh?  Now we both are annoyed so guess what? It sucks to be you. Now get UP

because no one is coming. 

I’ve spent all these months licking my wounds, because there was no peroxide, no bandage and certainly, no ice cream. I’ve been put in some annoying positions and some scary one’s too. I know what loss is, and I’m afraid of it. That’s what has me paralyzed. Fear. I’ve become a coward, a domesticated cat that’s been put out into the wild again and I’m spiraling. The instincts are there, I don’t think that ever goes away, but boooooiiiiii it is taking a long time to kick in! We are in the winter months and it’s about to be cold out there, literally. 

I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me

but unlike many people when stuff happens to them, I’ve known about this for a while. I’ve run out of “get out of jail free cards” and have to do the time. I was really hoping for another out, I even rolled the dice, praying for good odds but got a 5 and a 4. It’s fair. 

 I spent 2021 like a deer in headlights. Standing there, paralyzed by fear, not picking a direction in which to jump because the possibilities were too many and so now at the end, I brace myself for the impact and pray the car that hits me will swerve so I only break a foot and not my neck.

–

It hit me. 

I’m laying on the side of the road, in the dark and no one’s coming. 

That was the lesson he taught me this year because I’ve been laying on this road for a lot longer than I thought and just didn’t realize it. No one is coming nena because they are waiting for you somewhere else, and now you’re injured, in the dark, with no map and it’s snowing.  

Ive spent so much time figuring out how NOT to fail

that it’s the only thing I have actually achieved in all this time. Failure to even try, haunted by fear. I let everything get in front of me, unable to walk through the fog while having 4 eyes, my ass has been blinder than ever. 

Hey rock daddy…

the only thing I know that I can promise for 2022 is that I’m going to try and embrace the macaroni paintings of life because the Botticelli’s are out of reach right now, but that’s not forever, and I know that now. I’m learning that slowly, as I’m still laying on the roadside.

 Really… I’d just like to get to the part where I learned my lesson, we are going for a soda float and you’re holding my hand again… 

 I’m working up the courage to stand up

and take those steps towards you, still in the dark, still full of fear, but now the fear has to be a motivator because the reality is, nothing is worse than the wrath of Oya! (I KID! I KID!! ) There is a lot of work ahead of me. 

I appreciate all the time I spent laying down and digging deep to try and figure things out. I still dont know what the fuck I’m doing but I’m happy about that (genuinely) and although I am a ball of nerves, I’m ready to get up, which I think, is exactly where Eleggua wants me to be. 

I was dating my High School sweetheart

for about two years. It was almost prom season and we were all thinking about college. Except, I was running around trying to finish an internship in order for my conditional acceptance to the CIA ( Culinary Institute of America) to be moved to fully accepted. 

My Boyfriend had graduated the previous year and was out in the work force while attending college classes, so needless to say, well all had a full plate. After years of friendship, we knew each other well enough that although time was no longer a luxury we had, we would make the best of it. Luckily, I had a half day on his day off. He would pick me up from school so we could hang out or go somewhere. 

It was my favorite thing to do all week. We were a classic goth couple, children of the night and always dressed to impress. These were the days I pulled out the lace, the corsets, the pvc, the leather, the boots, the gloves, you name it. I was his Goth princess. Mr. W was 6’2 with dark hair and pale skin, much like me but I was 5’3 making me tiny next to him but the boots helped give me a few inches extra! 

Sadly, things took a turn with his schedule

so we were only able to see each other once a week, sporadically, and that meant that sometimes we didnt see each other at all, but we spoke every day on the phone, and exchanged letters when we did see each other. I missed him terribly, and I know he missed me too. The conversations also started getting less frequent and I remember the “this is getting so hard to see you with our schedules” conversation which should have really been a red flag but I was dumb and in love. 

Walking across the East Village to the west side with my bestie, I complained about missing him. She did her best to cheer me up and give words of encouragement, but I was in my feelings. That is,  until we saw Carlos. He always put a smile on my face! Mostly because he was so hot ( dont judge me, I was 17). He had long light brown hair, a classic goatee, tattoos and 5 tongue piercings. He was an artist, and worked at an art supply boutique. Seriously, he was dreamy and I always fantasized of having a Draw me like one of your french girls, jack  moments, but that never happened. 

He was always happy to see us

and that day was no different. We started chatting and basically he mentioned having been with Mr. W recently. “Really?’ I questioned. He sheepishly tried to back track and reminded me how close they lived to each other and that they got together to watch wrestling etc. “So you haven’t seen him?” he asked, kinda scared. The red flag was hoisted here folks! “Have you guys, er.. Spoken?” he searched my face for the answer but was met with confusion. “ Is something going on?” I finally asked. He tried to laugh it off and blah blah blah me into a safe space but It didn’t work. He said “Look, its not my place to say, but you guys should talk, that’s all I can say.” he threw his hands up and we left it there. We hugged him goodbye and we left. 

Half a block in silence

and I said “Fuck it, I’m going back! Wait for me at Barnes and Noble.” Leaving my friend behind, I ran to the store, busted through the door and said “Tell me. Now.”  Carlos sighed deeply, locked the door, took my hand and brought me upstairs to the studio. It was exactly how the movies portrayed an art studio and for a second I got lost in the beauty as he lifted me onto a table and said “Look.” 

Rubbing his face with his hands he says “Its no secret that I like you, so coming from me doesn’t look right.” “Carlos!” I pleaded “You’re fucking hot..” he whispers into my ear. I am literally shaking. Here is Dreamy Mc Dreamboat telling me he thinks I’m hot, literally whispering into my ear everything he wanted to do to me at that moment, so please know that my soul just left my body. I think my heart stopped ya’ll. 

“Carlos please!”

I said, whimpering. It took everything in my person to not give in to this Goth King, I was weak as hell! He squeezed my thighs “Ok…” a lump formed in my throat, my heart was racing from the excitement but now it just turned to fear. “Tell me” I breathed.

 “Remember how I said Mr. W comes over to watch wrestling?” he raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded and he continued. “Well, one day he asked if he could bring over a friend, and I said sure. Soon he just started bringing this girl over all the time which was no biggie to me until they started kissing.” He immediately grabbed my hand. “He’s with someone else Drea. I’m so sorry.” 

He pulled me into a tight hug

expecting me to ball my eyes out but I was shocked. “Are you ok?” he asked softly. “Uhum..” I nodded. He lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger. searching my face he sighs “I love when you give me those big brown eyes”. Here is where I died again for the second time and really lost sight of why I was there. Instinctively I reached out to hug him again, tightly, fighting the tears, because I wasn’t going to cry. I loosened my grip a little as I began to calm down. He kissed me, and I let him. That escalated quickly. 

“let me worship you…”

he says, like a true Goth King. He smiled but sadly, because he knew my heart was broken and he knew that I wouldn’t consent. “I can’t.” I smiled just as sadly back. “I gotta go.” I sighed, as I jumped off the table and grabbed my stuff. He walked me out and kissed my hand as I was leaving. “Amor, I’ll be waiting here for you whenever you’re ready.” “Oh, FUCK!” I stammered. “Omg, Aura!” “Cariño” he purred “she’s knows how I feel, and she’s waiting for you too, if you want.” he gave me a pat on the ass out the door and I left. Angry, confused and excited all at the same time. 

I found my bff and told her what happened while we rode the train home. Getting off at 42nd street on the E train, we walked the tunnel to catch the N train. This was the best route to get to my house. We were still turning over all the details about my conversation with Carlos when I dug my nails into her arm. “No fucking way” I chuckled as I pointed for her to see what I saw. Mr. W was walking towards us holding hands with a tall ass goth chick with huge tiddies. He was lost in conversation but all I could see were those giant breasts getting closer to me. ( clearly I felt some type of way since I was a B cup and thought they were cute, be her tits were gorgeous, and I seethed with jealousy).

It all happened so fast

but he must have felt us staring because he locked eyes with me and my friend. He quickly threw her hand, as if we didn’t see him holding it the whole time and made as if to say my name but before he could say anything, me and my bestie looked at each other, then back at him and cackled while waving goodbye. “Andrea!” he finally squeezed out, so I turned, blew him a kiss and wagged my finger No at him. 

I wouldn’t take his calls for a while.

Shortly after, I went back to see Carlos for lip service and coffee. I was hurting and he offered me comfort. Aura met us after and held me like a baby, stroking my hair while I raged because I still couldn’t find the tears. “It was the tiddies, baby” she cooed. “He was mesmerized by them.” “I mean, they were great” I mumbled. Swatting my ass gently, we both giggled.

Wrapping me in her over sized sweater, I played with her soft blond hair as she rained kisses on my forehead and cheeks. The affection was helpful, as she meant to mend me too. “We are here for you” she said, entwining her fingers in mine. We drank our coffees holding hands and laying on each other on a big couch. In our little nest I felt safe, and not at all weird about what had just happened with Carlos. As if reading my thoughts, she kissed me and said “It’s all right baby.” They walked me to the train, both kissing me goodbye and I went home. ( If you saw the last season of YOU where the NDA came out, that was me, in confusion.)

They would have made great sex magic partners. Click the link to read more about that.

Side Note: 

I didn’t see Carlos again for a while until we ran into each other at the Albion on my 18th Birthday. I was seeing my first husband at the time but when Carlos saw me, he let out a giant roar of happiness! Excited, I ran towards him. He lifted me into the air, smashing his face into my chest while turning me in circles as we laughed and he kissed my cheeks. He saw my fangs and I saw the look in his eyes.

The Fuck me eyes were strong

When he was putting me down. Squeezing him tightly so he would listen, “I’m here with someone” I giggled and he quickly went to shake everyone’s hand- Forever Goth King Vibes. I don’t have many regrets but this was probably one of them though I wasn’t a good candidate for a thruple lol. 

Back to the story… 

 I was ready to talk.

We spoke, he apologized and asked to see me. I was numb but I wanted to look at his face. 

We saw each other and the pain ripped through me like a million paper cuts. My skin burned with rage, hate and pain, but I wasn’t ready to feel that yet. We hugged at some point, even kissed, but we broke up that day. We were really in two different places and I couldn’t look at him the same anymore. I made him promise to take me to prom. There were too many people who were waiting to hear we broke up and didn’t make it. I wasn’t giving anyone that satisfaction, so I kept the break up quiet. Still, I didn’t mourn, I wanted him to feel my pain.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. 

My revenge was arctic. He got to see me run away with my much older lover, in the old school Rolls-Royce that brought us, as I watched him from the back window and waved goodbye to him for the last time. Mr. W broke my heart but that night, after breaking his I drowned my grief in vodka red bulls and kisses in the dark. This was where I belonged, in these arms, and so, I didn’t need to process this pain. I was living my dream life. 

Until those dreams were dashed on the rocks of pride.

but that’s another story

I want to say I was in fifth or sixth grade. 

I had an afro that created a large black halo around my head. Nothing about it was cute, and I dressed somewhere in between baggy but I’d really like to try and look more feminine, but it was an epic fail lewk. I struggled a lot with my appearance. Mother always wanted me neat and clothed. It didn’t really matter what that looked like. For me, it meant getting made fun of constantly. I kept to myself a lot but also learned that I had a voice to go along with my frightening appearance, so I became a formidable force.

I had a few friends but stayed away from boys a lot. Encounters with them turned into crazy battles, hurtling insults that ended up in me screaming at the top of my lungs so that I could keep the tears in. Being quick witted saved me most of the time yet it always ended with me crying about it later.

I wanted to be a pretty girl, desperately wanted to be seen. 

The classroom was broken up into 6 groups with 4-6 kids to a clump. I sat in the first row of groups  at the far end, near the windows at a table of 6. Easily accessible to the teacher and within ear shot, we were a no nonsense group. I was always a good student and enjoyed learning, most times. English was my favorite subject, but somehow I didn’t make it into the elite reading club, as apparently, I was ready for it so instead of reading at my level, I leaned on trashy supermarket novels or whatever I could find in the library to soothe yet another wound of rejection. 

Lonely hearts story: 

Generally things went smoothly in class, I really don’t remember much as it was so long ago but I will never forget Manny. I think he was thrown into our class with the hope that our teacher could deal with him. It didn’t take long before he moved from group to group as he was disruptive and did not catch on to the material quick enough.  He stayed with my group the longest ,and I want to say it was because of me that he lasted as long as he did. I tried to keep him focused and on task, helping where I could, shushing when I couldn’t. He was never mean to me, and made sure to do whatever I said. I remember getting sick and when I returned to school, Manny was no longer at our table.

Manny was moved to a desk that faced the black board.

Literally, up against it. The teacher even placed a divider between him and our group as we were the closest to him and she didn’t want him interacting with anyone.  As an adult looking back, I think he may have had ADHD and needed to be in a Special Ed class. Sadly, folks were still pretty ignorant about those things and so, he was forcefully isolated. 

Manny stayed quiet for a while, and behaved. Occasionally Manny allowed to interact with us sometimes, when the teacher let him move the barrier. He did goof around still, and went out of his way to try and make me smile or laugh. I liked Manny, he was my friend. A detail I omitted with the rest of my classmates. 

Everyone said he was weird, annoying, stupid and didnt belong in our class. When I tried to stick up for him the first thing people would say is “Oh? So you like him or something?”. Immediately, I shut up. These bullies would say anything; I didn’t, but they wouldn’t believe me. 

I didn’t believe me. 

During recess, I encouraged him to listen and behave. Sadly, I begged him to act normal. He laughed at me and said, “But I am normal!”. I reminded him that he faced the black board all day and was hidden in a corner. “That can’t be right, and you know it” giving him a raised eyebrow, he nodded in response.

Unfortunately it came time for there to be another situation where Manny was trying to be social during free time but everyone thought he was being weird. “Leave him alone!” I said to the boys bothering him. “He’s not even talking to you guys, just go away!” I chided. 

“Andrea likes Manny!!!”

they screamed in unison. “Stop!” I said mortified. “You’re being childish ” I said. They started pushing him, egging him on to fight back. This time I yelled, getting the attention of everyone around us “Stop!! Leave him alone!” a crowd formed around us, closing us in. The boys began pushing him again so he pushed back. “Stop!” I screamed with several other girls chiming in but clearly these boys wanted a fight. 

“Why are you defending him?” one of the boys asked me. “You DO like him!!” another boy yelled from the sidelines. “STOP!” I yelled back again, “I DON’T!!!” looking at Manny, I sighed and said “He’s my friend.” 

They all laughed at me. 

“Stop Laughing at Her !” Manny roared, pushing the boy who instigated the whole thing. “Leave her alone!” I could see he was breathing heavier, his chest going up and down faster and faster. I don’t know if he’d ever been in a fight but he looked ready. Before I could do anything the same kid yells “so YOU like her! What a joke! She’s ugly, look at her!” and they all laughed. Tears burned in my eyes like acid, leaving marks on my cheeks because I couldn’t hold them back.

 I pushed through the crowd that was still laughing yet in the background, I heard Manny say “I love her, she’s beautiful!” while raining punches down on the boy. I was long gone before teachers rushed in to break up the fight. Running into the bathroom I locked myself in a stall. I  cried so hard I was choking. Holding myself in a tight hug I tried to understand what had just happened. “I like you too,” I whispered. 

I Imagined it was  Manny’s face that I pressed my face to and not the stall wall. 

He was out for a couple of days. When Manny came back, his right eye was a little black and blue, his lower lip was cut. I remember asking him if he was ok, but his immediate response was to hug me. I flinched and pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!” I said harshly. 

He looked at me confused and sad, “but I like you” he said softly. “I love you” he whispered. “No, you don’t.” I scolded, turned on my heel and sat down right away. From that moment on, he tried everyday to make me laugh or smile. He would do anything, and that got him into more trouble than usual. 

I ignored him completely. Determined to forget what happened and what I was feeling, I switched seats with someone in my group so I was as far away from him as I possibly could get but he was persistent. Leaving chocolates in my desk, little notes, and tiny fake flower bouquets. All of which I pretended to ignore but secretly put away when no one was looking. 

February rolled in…

Valentines’ day fell on a Friday. We all made valentines day cards for everyone in the classroom and would distribute them during free time before we went home. The teacher let us have a little party so we all got to relax and hang out with our friends. Poor kid wasn’t allowed to join us. He watched us, smiling but I could see the sadness in his eyes. 

Towards the end Manny was given permission to distribute his cards. Many of the kids were cruel towards him. They ripped his card up or threw them away. Some even flat out refused to take them but he still went around to everyone then sat back down. I and a few other girls went over and gave him cards. Happily, Manny jumped up from his seat and started pacing a little. This is something he did when he was nervous or excited. “ Hey Andrea?” he said softly. The girls had already moved on, leaving us alone for a moment. “Yeah?” I said curiously. “Can you come to the back of the line at dismissal please ? ” he asked. I gave him a weird look and he says “ please, just come.” “Ok,” I said and walked to my desk.  

He decided to stay standing at his desk

so he could see everyone enjoying themselves at our makeshift party. I sat at my desk fidgeting with cards while making small talk with my tablemates. This gave me an opportunity to look at Manny without being obvious. 

He had his hair slicked back, with what looked like a little pompadour. He wore a red and black flannel shirt, with slim fitting jeans, a small cuff at the bottom. Paired with simple dress shoes, he looked very neat,put together and handsome. It was a retro look, something I came to admire in my adult life, but in that moment, he was just precious to me. Manny smiled and laughed to himself as he watched everyone. Pacing every now and then but quickly reminded himself to be still. He casually combed his hair with a little black pocket comb that came in a burgundy plastic holder and fidgeted with that the rest of the afternoon.  

 I wondered what he wanted that I should stay behind at dismissal. 

The day was over and we formed our two lines to exit the building. I stayed in my place until the other kids rushed past me to find their parents. I stayed back as Manny had asked me. “Here” he said, shoving a small box into my hand. “Happy Valentines Day,” he said with a big smile. feeling shocked and overjoyed I returned a toothy smile while quickly opening the box. 

The gift was a pink candle from Avon in a heart shaped sea glass container. A simple little red velvet bow adorned the cover. I touched the ripples of the glass, unable to look up at him in my shyness. “Do you like it?” he asked. “Yes” I whispered, blushing. In the background I heard some kids asking what we were doing, and there was a buzz all around us but I was in the moment. Trying to carefully put it away, I was so nervous that my hands were fumbling as I struggled to get it in the box. 

“Thank y-” I began but was quickly caught off guard when he leaned in to kiss me. Manny missed the target and got half my mouth, half my cheek. The crowd around us roared in shouts of screaming children saying “EWWW!!!” 

My face flushed beet red.

I was embarrassed and angry. I immediately threw the candle on the floor and as it shattered I screamed into Manny’s face “ I DON’T LIKE YOU!”. His face crumpled. I could see the hurt as he lifted his hand to his chest to hold his breaking heart. I wanted so much to be seen, to be pretty to someone but how, when I didn’t actually feel it. Worst of all, there were so many conditions in my head, criteria even. Although Manny was handsome, sadly he didn’t measure up, solely because he was different, and we both couldn’t be different in my mind. 

I ran. 

I ran for what felt like forever but it was just a few steps to my bus. 

“Que te pasa?” Mariola the bus lady barked at me. “What happened to you?.” “Nothing!” I said back icily, and she didn’t bother me the rest of the time.  

In my seat I was alone and sad. I cried myself to sleep hoping this was a nightmare. When I got home, I ran upstairs to try and forget the day. Thankfully it was a Friday. The weekend would hopefully be enough for most people to forget but I wouldn’t, as I held the little red velvet bow that somehow ended up in my pocket. 

I broke my first heart. 

Broke my own in the process.

I let the world bully me into hurting someone, to protect myself from that same hate. I was a coward, which was probably the really hardest feeling to swallow. We liked each other but I couldn’t reconcile everything happening around us and so, I didn’t have the tools to fight this war. I surrendered before it even started. 

We went back to school and it was as if nothing had ever happened but Manny was hurting, and misbehaved. A lot. He threw things. Screamed at the teacher, and at one point was forcefully taken out because he would not listen to anyone. A few days later, Manny was removed from our class on account of his uncontrollable behavior.

I never saw him again. 

I mended my heart with the help of my grandma’s kitchen magic for a sad pre teen. Buttered saltines and her famous sweet-spice tea. Manny was no longer occupying space in my mind after a while but would forever remain a barometer for the rest who followed. 

Blessed Summer Solstice/Midsummer to All! The Sun has reached it’s Zenith, and the magical energy is high! Those that have sunny skies, get out there and enjoy basking in it’s light, harness some power and manifest some ish! 

What have I been up to?

I have to admit, I’ve been doing a lot of self care and “me” type things for a while and it feels great! Gathering the strength to fill my cup and get back to creating content and sharing food magic with you all! I have to give Lady Circe a HUGE shout out for creating magical space for all at her store, Skeleton Key Shop in Bayonne, New Jersey! I’ve also been enjoying all of the community love from local witches… it feels GREAT! 

The Midsummer event was amazing, full of lore, a cool craft and incredible energy all around, I’m still buzzing from it!! Deam Lux Coven is about to turn 10 and I can’t believe how quickly time has flown by! Our coven has given us all so many blessings. It’s been the place I’ve felt the most comfortable in my own skin. It has provided creative space in so many ways. Working with Deam Lux planted the seed which was nurtured and has blossomed into the Food Magic I’m sharing with you all! This Blackberry Mint Tea was made for the Midsummer Ritual participants not only celebrating the Solstice but paying respect and homage to the Fae Folk! 

What’s in the Tea?

Blackberries are delicious summer berries and associated with fairies and the Goddess Brighid. She is said to be the Daughter of Dagda and Danu of the Tuatha de Danann. A Celtic race of magical beings ( or fairies) that ancient peoples ( and folks now!) venerated as Gods and Goddesses. 

The Blackberry plant ( Bramble fruit) is of the rose family. This makes them super tricky to pick as the bush has thorns, or large spikes that jut out from the stems. Simply reminding us to tread lightly, much like many do with the Fae and their mischievous ways! 

The Mint brings in that heady aroma. Coupled with its sweet yet spicy nature, its an herb I love to use when groups of people get together for ritual. Mint is often used in money, healing and protection work. What I most enjoy is it’s high vibration. I feel it adds to the energy of the room when doing magical workings. Its an herb that brings people together! Often associated with Venus, I can’t help but to use it for solar things. For me, that’s where it aligns the best. 

A tiny bit about the Fae

The energy of the Fae Folk were ever present at our gathering, bringing lots of cheer and merriment. Those that work with the Fae already know how it goes. Especially how easily things get turned upside down in a pinch! During the Summer where I feel that activity is super high, right around the solstice, you may feel compelled to give them offerings and I say, go for it! 

Simple things that go over well are :

Milk – Especially Cream!

Honey 

Sweet Pastries and Cakes

Juicy Fruits 

Shiny trinkets or coins 

May the Strength of the sun surround you with its brilliant light and recharge your battery, and I hope the Fae bring you much laughter and good times! Blessed Solstice to all!! 

Made this tea? Please Tag us @GourmetWitch on Instagram and hashtag #FoodMagic or #WitchesGottaEat to share your creation!

When you don’t own your own property …

We have a terrible eye sore for a front “lawn”. Its a piece of land that is somehow part of the house. There is hardly any dirt, just a few inches poured over the concrete foundation, currently covered with rocks. Probably done to limit the grass growth, but guess what? The fucking grass, still manages to grow!!! So we are stuck cutting it… I digress. 

The point is, I can’t plant anything in that ground as there isn’t enough for roots to hold on to and redoing this patch for a rented property is an expense I really don’t want to take on, so we have some pots! ( they were also part of the property and boi, are they ugly!) I have thrown all sorts of new dirt, plant food, compost, you name it! The grass, once again, wins. 

What can I do? … 

I’m left with the two large planters on the tops of the steps. They had managed to keep flowers alive, and a few vincas over the years, but all I wanted was a flowering garden </3 ( I have a patch of dirt in the back, but that is veggie country, its too small for flowers and i love my fresh veggies!) I’ve done a few things that have helped make it less ugly, including letting a pumpkin grow wild out of one of the lower ugly pots! It provided cover for that land, so the grass stood no chance!!! Also, I got squash blossoms, and a few pumpkins for the fall, win!! 

The plan… 

My grand mother for years, has told me to plant tulips in the front. They’re beautiful and don’t require much, they do all the work mostly but the colors…. The colors are what make it all worth it! In my effort to effective change the entire look of this thing, I didnt plant any, especially, as I previously mentioned, there was hardly any dirt. Then March 2020 happened. 

The Lockdown 

The lockdown was in full effect, everyone was in a panic. Day after day of worrying, anxiety, not knowing what tomorrow would bring other than fear and death. This was a living nightmare for everyone. Tragedy struck at every avenue as we braced ourselves for the next onslaught. Humanity was under siege and was outmatched. The days of plentiful food shelves were gone, meat was hard to get and over priced. 

Finally forced to step out, I saw turkey’s in the display cases because there wasn’t much else. I HATE turkey ; But this isn’t a pandemic post exactly, this is about tulips – 

I was cut off from the world, and family. All I wanted was to see my mom and my grandma, to look at my friends in the eye but I couldn’t. We did what we had to, and we stayed inside. The two week mark was up, we all probably thought that was it, but it wasn’t. We soldiered on.. – the tulips, drea! Sorry. 

The struggle continued

At the end of April, I was out of my mind but playing the pretend game, where you smile all day, are excessively cheerful or agree to do anything that your husband and child want just so there are no fights or discomfort, then you take a shower and crying yourself clean, while turning up the temperature so that your eyes aren’t the only things that are red. You do that some more, and then when everyone is asleep…you ugly cry into your pillow as you pray for the longevity of your loved one’s and the world. Once again, I digress. 

Gardening was on the list of “lock down to do’s” but this was a staple for us, So we packed ourselves into the car, armed with sanitizer, masks and gloves. The plan was to stay outside and away from everyone. The agreement was if it got crowded, drop everything and leave. Luck was on our side that day. 

The mulch and dirt was in the parking lot on pallets, so we loaded it onto carts and headed towards the register. I still had seeds from the previous year and plenty of pots but then I saw them, and my heart sank. Carts and carts of tulips, daffodils, hyacints and crocuses. brushing away those few tears that were forming, and spending more than I should have, I got my tulips, the hyacinth and some crocus. 

Its planting time! 

While everyone else worked on mulching the walking paths, I got to work on these plants. Crocus to the front, tulips in the middle and hyacinths on the sides. An oath was made that spring would no longer be heralded by Puxatawny and some calendar! I still love you Phil but I’m leaving this one to the blooming flowers and the birds at my window screaming for sex, smh. Me too birds, me too lol. 

The Hyacinth was for Deam Lux. Missing my coven, and not knowing when we could circle again was scary af. I dug in the dirt and asked these plant babies to bloom, grow and return next season, in hopes that when Ostara came around again, they would be blooming, calling the coven on the wind, escorting them inside. 

I picked some vibrant colors for the tulips, representing my mom and my grandma and a gothy looking purple one for me. In that chaos of color, they all fit, perfectly, and beautiful. Speaking to the tulips, my wish was that they would come back again, so my grandma could see them. She needs to see them. I need her to see them. I snapped some pictures, sent them to mom and said “Show grandma!”. We got on a call later, “I can’t wait for you to see them, these are for you.”

Almost a year later… 

Last week, as I walked the dog in the still frigid air or late February as I walked up the steps, I felt a little nudge. I turned my view to the planters, that were covered in dead weeds and grass from the winter. The snow was gone and something told me to pull at those dead plants. Voila! HELLO crocus sprouts! Two days later the green blades of the tulips shot up. Yesterday the head of a hyacinth was almost all the way out! The birds are screaming in the morning and the air is lighter. Spring in here, doing what it promised- It brought tomorrow! Waiting on a few more degrees of warmth then it’s off to whisk grandma over the river and into New Jersey.

Feel free to skip to the bottom for the Sugar Cookie Recipe and Royal Icing Recipe !

Sex Magic and its practice has been around forever, and honestly, I’m here for it! The power of an orgasm goes a long way so harnessing that energy and channeling it to manifest your goals is HIGH KEY some amazing witchcraft, IMO. Like many baby witches, I started off with basic love spells, (my gateway to sex magic) which crashed and burned (literally!!) They quickly taught me that focused ( a particular person)  “love” spells either don’t come through, fizzle out super quick or you meet a lot of “Joe’s”. 

Work on yourself, figure out what you want in your life, in your partner and be open to the universe, that special someone is out there, looking for you too. Not ready for a serious commitment but the dating pool has been coming up short? Don’t waste good orgasms on someone who treats you like trash or doesn’t call you back, or worse and doesn’t get you off! Masturbate and slather that orgasm juice onto a candle and call that divine fuck into your life! Just for today or forever, its up to you boo! 

What else can we use it for? 

Looking for a new job? Sex Magic! New apartment or buying a home? Sex Magic! Money spells? Sex Magic! In need of healing? Sex magic! Want to hex someone? Sex Magic! (depends!) Honestly, there isn’t a huge list of “can’ts” when it comes sex magic, its raw, its powerful and we create it, so let’s manifest some ish!  Loving yourself, and giving yourself pleasure is magic all on its own; There isn’t always a need for a purpose or task other than for your enjoyment and wellbeing! The afterglow of a dopamine rush has you looking in the mirror and seeing a snack! 

Sex magic can also be done with a group. ( please note, this doesn’t mean that there has to be giant orgy, or any physical contact with the participants. That should be discussed ahead of time and agreed upon by all. more on that soon) 

A Note on group work…

There has been a loud thunderclap in the witchy and new age community. Specifically, calling out people for their unethical / cult practices. Their sexual misconduct / predatory mindset, their coercive behaviors or abuse of power. Racism, transphobia and inclusion also needed to be addressed. Work still needs to be done, but I’m grateful for some of the progress I’ve seen. A huge thanks to the resources that have been shared to help people educate themselves and do better. For many, finding a group that you feel comfortable with in general can be hard, but they are out there. Should sex magic comes up, or is an established part of their practice, It is up to you to decide what is comfortable and what is not.

This does not mean that you can’t participate in sex magic rituals in a group setting. My best advice is to ask questions. Ask whatever you need in order to feel comfortable and clear about expectations and what is going on. There is NOTHING WRONG with being cautious, and asking questions. If they can’t answer you, that’s a problem and it may be best to move along.

Listen to your gut, if it doesn’t feel right then don’t feel bad or weird about not wanting to participate or leaving. Your comfort matters, your consent is valid and the moment you want to take it back, that too is valid. This is tough topic, and I find that most often folx prefer to work alone, with a partner or a very established group of people that have been getting together for a while. Again, its really up to you and what you feel is best. *I’m going to stop here because I’d like to get really into this in another post *

Um… Cookies? 

In my last post I talked a little about sigils and language. Working them into food magic and boosting spell work. Being a witch, for me, has opened up a lot of different avenues to learn from. It has made me dig deep to learn about who I really am, and to find comfort in that person. Speaking clearly about the things that bother me, has always been an obstacle but I can’t stand in front of the hurdle forever if I want to move forward. I’m trying, and it’s gotten so much better, but there is definitely more room for growth. That being said, I don’t have an issue telling you what I want (when I know what it is lol) but maybe you do, or someone you care about does. 

Remember to have an open mind…

 For some folks, expression through conversation can be hard. Speaking about what they want from a partner takes time, and trust. Yet even after many years, people can still have fears. Trauma from previous relationships can cause people to hide the things they enjoy, so be mindful of that. Then, there’s the fear of judgement. Past experiences of any kind can contribute to someone being unwilling to share those intimate details . Fetishes are real, Kinks are real, and even things we may consider Vanilla is X-rated for some folx. While they may be into it, its still hard to talk about so again, be open and understanding. This may bring you closer together or at least, help you see that person more clearly. 

 Witchcraft to me, is about creating the change that we want to see, but you have to be willing to do the work. If you find there are obstacles with your partner or love interest, Perhaps writing a playful message on a cookie for your intended can start a conversation, if you’re shy. That step, is magic to me!  Maybe the shy one is your partner, and these phrases are meant to express your desires without putting them in an awkward place ( setting an intention? sounds like magic to me).

Witchcraft also isn’t just about spell work, many witches practice some form of healing, choose to protect others and provide a safe space. You may be the sanctuary a person chooses, to feel comfortable enough to engage in conversation after a few chuckles and a few bites. You may also just want to fuck and looking for a creative way to tell them how great they are at…. (fill in the blank!). 

The cookie is your blank slate, your Altar. The magic – is up to you! Happy Kitchen Conjuring’s! 

Made these cookies? Tag me on Instagram @GourmetWitch and use the hashtag #foodmagic I’d love to see what you created! 

Print Recipe

Sugar Cookies

Prep Time15 mins

Cook Time12 mins

cooling and resting2 hrs

Total Time2 hrs 30 mins

Course: Dessert

Keyword: cookies, conversation hearts

Servings: 12 each

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cup All Purpose Flour
• 1 tsp Baking Powder
• 1/2 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1/2 cup + 1 Tbsp granulated sugar
• 1 large Egg
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Instructions

• In the bowl of a standing mixer, or if you don't have one, you can use a bowl and a hand mixer, add the butter and sugar. Cream until light and fluffy, scraping down the sides often.
• Add the egg, and vanilla extract. Mix until just incorporated, then Add the flour and baking powder.
• Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1-2 hours
• On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a 1/4 inch thickness. lightly flouring a cookie cutter, press into the dough, and carefully transfer cut out to a parchment lined baking sheet. Do this until all the dough is used. Refrigerate again for 15 minutes.
• Pre heat the oven to 325 degrees F. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until lightly golden around the edges. Take out of the oven and let stand 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

Print Recipe

Royal Icing

Prep Time20 mins

Course: Dessert

Equipment

• sifter, piping bags, piping tips, couplers ( optional)

Ingredients

• 2 cups confectioner's sugar, sifted
• 1 1/2 Tbsp Meringue Powder
• 4-5 Tbsp cool water
• Gel Food Coloring, as needed

Instructions

• Sift the sugar and meringue powder together. Add water a Tablespoon at a time, and whisk well to remove the lumps. Icing should be almost the texture of pancake batter. ( don't use more than 5 tablespoons of water or it will be runny) do your best to whisk it all together well before each addition.
• Separate Icing into 2-4 small bowls or containers ( it may see like a little but it goes a long way!) start off with a small drop of color and mix. Add as needed to reach desired color, but keep in mind the gels are highly pigmented, so less is more here.

  Note : Icing being used for outlines or writing, should be a thicker consistency than what you will "flood" or fill with, so take that into account.
• Pipe a thin line around the edges of your cookie and let set for 5 minutes. Fill the inside, and use a skewer or toothpick to distribute icing evenly and eliminate bubbles, use a swirly motion and be sure not to get to close to the piped edge line. Let the cookie set completely then go back and pipe your phrases!
• you can use wilton tip 2-4 for edging and writing, the smaller size is the thinner. if you have couplers, then you can make up multiple piping bags but if not, thats ok, what important is to have fun!

I’ll never stop saying it, food is always the answer! It can have the power to speak the things we may be too shy to say out loud or feel too vulnerable to share but want to. It can whisper an “I Love You” or scream it without startling anyone! The power lies within you. Knowing your partner and their likes/ dislikes can make this a lot smoother when it comes to planning a meal but if you’re just starting out, you can always ask a few things and leave the rest up to chance! This can even be a great talking point and another way to get to know each other. 

Some basic questions should include allergens ( we don’t want to rush anyone to the hospital or make for uncomfortable bathroom trips!) Whether they’re into spicy food or not, dairy not a good idea? Ask about things they really don’t like and some things they do! Do we drink? You may want to pair your meal with a bottle of wine or a cocktail.  Be sure to make your courses small enough so there is room for dessert! Are we a chocolate fan? Maybe something light with fruit, have fun! 

So where’s the food Magic? Well, once you figure out some of the above, think about your dish. What is the mood we are trying to create here? ( spell work prep!) Are we going for new love, rekindling, healing, passion? Is this a meal for loved one’s or something self love related perhaps? Give this some thought so your intentions are as clear as possible. Now it’s time to select ingredients that meet your needs. Choose things that are preferably in season but I also get that some of the items for Love aren’t and that’s ok, thank goodness for the modern day grocery store! This year, I decided to make some conversation hearts with naughty phrases, sprinkled with a few appreciation one’s. 

Where does language fit in ? Food is an unspoken language,  as are many of our written languages we use for spell work. It is written in our choice of ingredients, the way we present it, who it’s for, so much can be said on a plate so let’s use that!  Here is a perfect opportunity to add power to your food magic with the use of Sigils or seals. What is a Sigil? Simply put, it is a symbol considered to have magical powers. These are created however you feel comfortable. A sentence that you break down, using a word cipher, or even an image that embodies the intention works great. When working with edible items, food markers are perfect for this. Using your favorite magical language or symbols of your choosing, create a sigil for your purpose. 

If your recipe calls for a bayleaf, write directly on it! The ink will disappear and leave no taste behind. Use a squeeze bottle for sauces in sandwiches or to garnish the plate, laying your meal over top. FInd creative ways to incorporate them in your meals or baked goods! 

 I created a Sigil years ago for  “Continued unity” , I used a food marker and put it on a cookie, then covered it with frosting, added a naughty phrase –  BOOM! Food Magic. (When I do stuff like this, I usually share the dish with my partner, but sometimes it’s aaaallll for him, so, yea) I have been out of the broom closet forever and he willingly accepts that there will be spells in food, the floor wash, laundry, the car, the closet, you name it! There are strange liquids in the fridge you can’t drink and jars full of herbs, dirt and ash, so if the ethics of this bothers you, you can always make a generalized sigil or skip it entirely!

As the years pass we all discover so much about ourselves and I know that I have always expressed myself through food and writing. My love language is quality time but also acts of service, which hasn’t changed much over the years and I try my best to show the people I love, that I do! In my own way. My partner has a similar love language which inspired a few other phrases for my conversation hearts that some of you may appreciate.  I literally put an “I appreciate you” sigil for these cookies.  Recipe will be in the next blog post ( gotta keep you coming back somehow !)

After a long day’s worth of work, a bad day or even just a blah one, I don’t have the energy to cook, so if he can’t also make a meal, he is quick to offer take out options before I get home or if I’m super late, he always gets me something to eat, even if I said I already ate. The appreciation right there, is just everything, I don’t like to be hungry ::crying emoji :: “I got take out” was the first cookie on my I appreciate you list. 

So…… I LOATHE garbage, and garbage day. I will literally do anything to never have to take it out. I’ll go so far as to plan ahead if I know my husband is going to be away. He never asks me to do it, even if he’s not feeling well ( Ugh, I’ll do it then!) or not in the mood, so for that my love, I am forever thankful!! This is why I made an “I took out the trash” one. 

Finally…. we didn’t have a washer/dryer, the family made a day of Laundry ( There was a Starbucks run , TJ Maxx for the wash cycle and home goods for the drying) We would do the dance everyone does and wondered why the fuck we have so much clothes! Now we are blessed with convenience and I do the laundry most of the time. I don’t mind it so much as it doesn’t get out of hand anymore. There are those times when he will put a load I started, into the dryer and suddenly, the rest of the laundry is washed, folded and put away. For all those times, and so many other little things you pay attention to, I appreciate you my love! 

I’ve seen all those “Chicken Soup for the Soul” books and as great as they are, I can’t see myself in them. I could get into why, but that will derail the point of this whole post. So I’m writing my own, Asopao de Pollo the reluctance of a chef cooking and grieving for a deceased parent while also being a medium-ish . (this might be long so feel free to skip to the bottom for the recipe!)

I don’t know when it started, and for sure it was before 2003, but I kinda just hate my birthday. It’s probably deep rooted in something from my childhood. Possibly the fact that I associate my 10th birthday with what I want to say was the last time my parents were together, happy, in one house. I can’t really remember, in fact, I can’t remember much about their divorce (well they weren’t married but together forever, or what felt like it to me)

There are tons of pictures to prove that my mom busted her ass and went all out to celebrate me and my day. Even now as an adult I almost always manage to somehow show up at her place or she at mine and we just hang out over cake and a meal. No huge fuss, just comfort, she gets me. I can’t blame her at all for any of my weird feelings. ( seriously, I always had a cute ass dress, everyone came over, the food was great, the cake, epic, but that hair… what a shame!)

Could it have been the few years in my first marriage where days before the fifth we would get into some sort of weird fight where then I’d just be upset and there would be no reason to celebrate, or presents? We were young adults, children really, and yet, no fanfare that children enjoy.

 The last year we were together my ex husband suggested that we stay married but live apart, on account of my heathen practices. I remember it being October 3rd. I remember the floral bed cover and I remember laughing, ignoring the conversation and saying in my head “There it is!!! You can forget about having a good time now!”. Can I blame him for being young and not knowing any better? No. He was also going through some things during that time and it was just apparent that I couldn’t help. So although that memory sticks as part of my top 3 worst birthdays, I can’t blame him for my weird feelings. 

I was newly hired at Tavern on the Green, it took me a whole month to get the folks to stop hating me, and some of them still did, but leave it up to the pot washer and porters to move past all the bullshit and show out for you. God/dess Bless those humans who break their asses for you to enjoy your fancy dinners! 

The lead pot washer got folks together and the bakery department to make me a cake. RIght in the middle of “being in the weeds” , the last push of the lunch shift, they come out with a cake, loud ass music and “Happy Birthday” over the expediter mic, while Mr. Nye played his trombone. Seriously, I don’t know where he kept it, but it always came out for random occasions! ( in my very pregnant times at the station, later that year, he would sneak me prime rib, mash and green beans, for the bebe. He would play for me too sometimes, usually after midnight cause it was super dead) 

Anyway, I was totally shocked, mostly because the hate was still real, yet it was super cool, and I was happy!  One for the books!  I told myself and then… I got a phone call. My mom wished me a Happy birthday and casually mentioned that I should stop by her house on my way home. 

I was newly married, 20 yrs old and felt I was passed that need for mothering ( how stupid was I) I didn’t want to upset her but I knew I would be tired and folks were waiting at home. I tried to get around it, and again, she insisted a little more. 

At that moment, it clicked. “What’s wrong?” I asked. There was a pause, and I asked again. She said she would rather tell me when I got there but said my father was in the hospital, he was calling out for me and it didn’t sound good. I said, ok, I’ll stop by.. At least I think I did, or something like that and I hung up. 

I started plating cheesecakes when the tears streamed down my face. I covered them and set them in the fridge, grabbed a stack of clean plates to keep going when I couldn’t see anymore. One of the porters came by, “hey Drea, you ok?” and I collapsed into his arms, or he caught me, because the news finally hit me. “My father is dying” I said to him. “How do you know?” he asked. “It’s my birthday, and he’s in the hospital, I just know.” 

Fast forward to me leaving work, I don’t know how I got to my mothers, or if I even got there first, but I did get to the hospital, went through some more trauma and 7 days later he was officially gone. Honoring his wishes he was taken off life support and I never forgave myself for being the worst child in the world.  

Can I blame him for being sick and dying? Maybe, and I know that sounds wrong but that’s a story for another time. Can I blame him for my weird feelings about my birthday? No, but this is the number 1 reason I would prefer to let it slip past me, quietly. 

Where’s the recipe carajo?!  It’s coming! 

Fast forward through several life changes, a second marriage, a dog, growing child, several career moves, many birthdays and lots of spiritual work, I thought this year would be good! Ochun last year asked me to really leave the guilt behind, I’ve had plenty of dreams with my Dad since it happened where he’s like, I’m good!  This year I was advised to do something a little extra special this year and then the plague hit.

 What the actual f*ck. 

I won’t talk about the  “rona” right now, it’s too soon, too much lost and I can barely hang on as I write this piece so TBC on that. I had a really special dream with my dad during this, and it felt like deliverance finally. So why can’t I move past the guilt? The grieving never ends, not truly and I feel like I’ve moved past that, just knowing he’s not here but still present in his spirit ways but the guilt. That shit is forever. 

While I should be making all these cool fall and Samhain recipes and posts on the Gourmet Witch page, I’ve just been taking care of my mental health. The rona really did a number on me and I think I just needed time away from pushing the machine. Do I want to finish my damn cookbook? Sure. Can I push till I fall over, just to put out something mediocre? Sure. I won’t though, because that’s not me. I am rebuilding myself here, and I’m almost done. Done in the way that I can stand freely without the “scaffolding” so stay tuned for all that too! 

I have a cool new backdrop for my Ancestor Offering pictures that I never took, HAHA! I thought, well if I can get one out, then I’ll be happy. This is where the Asopado came in, to stir the grief pot and finished with a little bit of healing. 

The recipe is about to be born here!! 

I got into the kitchen and pulled that magic up through my feet. I was making this dish for my father, specifically for him, which I’ve done but never this way, it felt different. All the Altars were lit and doing their thing ( a usual practice here but I think it added to the espooky) I grabbed the biggest pot, and set it on the stove.My garden is still giving me things ( global warming is real and scary folks!) so I ran out, picked a few peppers, grabbed a scallion, some cilantro and came back in. I chopped them up with 2 red onions, peeled a few cloves of garlic, washed the cilantro well then into the pot. I added my chicken and left it alone to simmer into a delicious broth, the base for my dish. 

Once that was done, I strained it, kept what I needed for today and froze the rest ( don’t ever waste broth!) I asked Isis to come out and help me shred this chicken while I continued to work on this dish. She never got to meet her grandad, I got pregnant later that year that he passed and it’s also something that eats me up with grief, and honestly, rage, but I digress! 

I chopped more onions, peppers, scallions, garlic and cilantro sprigs ( waste not, want not!). I portioned and washed out the rice, set it in a bowl. Grabbed the frozen peas and carrots, also into a bowl, at the ready. Wooden spoon in hand while the other reaches for the oil and then… 

“Get the good stuff.” I chuckled to myself and opened the refrigerator door… on the top shelf, sitting in a ziplock bag is the golden ambrosia, the elixir of life, the beginning of anything delicious in my mother’s kitchen….  Achiote 

Funny thing about mediumship is you never know how it’s going to manifest in your life. Everyone has their way, their journey, it’s very unique. I get pictures, voices and feelings. Sometimes I can see a fully manifested being, sometimes not. All I know, is that this is part of me, my life and spiritual practice. I don’t try to bargain with it, I just let it do its thing. This was the voice of a familial spirit that hangs out when I cook, especially when I’m “doing a thing.” 

I grab the little jar that my grandmother carefully curated, from the selection of Jams in either her fridge or mine. I try to always buy the coolest ones I find, because she loves them. While she was here last month she made me some achiote oil, in the very special achiote pot she got for me when I finally had my own place. Please know, I never use it, and only let her make it for me, because grandma knows best! ( my mom makes it too but you know, it’s grandma!) 

So I take it out, grab a napkin and place it under the lip of the jar as I pour liquid gold into the pot. Kinda how bottle service was for wine at a fancy place ( circa 1990).  Once it’s hot, in goes the sofrito and boy does that hit you in the feels.  Cooking with purpose, with magic, is a different experience. Veggies are sweating, and then it happens… 

I get a quick flash to the mason jar in the back of the fridge. Aliño. 

Everyone has their signature seasoning, the way they shake jars and put their touch on things, their stamp. Aliño is my mother’s signature. In her most recent visits, she has brought some with her, particularly to make Isis favorite meals. It’s something I grew up loving and hating ( because she made it in the blender at 6 am on a saturday! At least that’s how it felt when the roar of the machine woke you up!) 

I paused again, and I felt that nudge once more. He was asking me to add it. 

I got all weepy eyed, but swallowed the golf sized lump in my throat, walked to the fridge and added it to the cooking veggies. This seasoning is super special, I hardly use it, and honestly I never add it to a stewed dish, this usually goes directly on meat but a request is a request. I am his daughter, but my mom…. Even though he was the absolute worst to her, I want to believe that she was the love of his life, and in that moment, he wanted to feel her through this meal. Am I the Whoopi Goldberg in this moment??? that’s so sweet yet gross at the same time! ::Insert crying emoji while rocking back and forth:: 

In goes the rice to toast quickly in the oil and spices, followed by the peas and carrots combo, the shredded chicken,  a packet of sazon and 1 cubito de pollo . Add 10 to 12 cups of broth, throw in a few cilantro sprigs and it’s done!

I go back to the fridge for the olives and quickly put that jar back. “La nena” I heard. Talking to the air, I said “So? I’m making this for you! She can pick them out” and immediately felt that head shake, no. I sighed, brought the pot to a boil, then lowered to a simmer. 

25-30 minutes later and it’s ready to eat. I get it out into a bowl and stare at it. It’s ready for the picture I planned to take. I go back to my set up and start fidgeting with the props. I go back to the kitchen and look at the dish, I go for the leftover avocado and pickled onions. 

I don’t actually know much about my father ( hence the guilt). The things he really liked, I know a few but really not a lot. I could ask my mom but it immediately makes me want to cry so I don’t, and finish fixing the plate. 

My mind wanders, and I start talking to his spirit. “ I think you would have liked this better if it was shrimp. I know you loved seafood, remember when you left me in the park?” I laughed out loud because I may not remember much but that definitely sticks out. “Even if you would have loved the shrimp, you’d be too scared because Isis is allergic, so I get it. I hope you like avocado, but I know you love Mami’s Encebollado.” 

“Well, I hope you do, because it’s going on this! Also, I feel like you would have put tabasco on this, I don’t have any right now, but here’s some Sriracha! Careful, its spicy.” I use the bottle as a prop now, and it throws off the whole aesthetic but this isn’t for me, and I’m ok with it. 

“ If you were alive, I’d have taken you to eat sushi. I don’t think the raw fish would have been your favorite but I don’t think you would be able to resist the soft shell crab! Spider rolls are my favorite. They remind me of you. ‘Member when I almost stepped in a tub full of crabs? The ones you and Ingrid ate and I was terrified to come out? I know – she misses you too.” 

I take my photo, place the dish with a candle in the ancestor area of the house then serve everyone else. The TV is on, everyone is eating and Im having my own private dumb supper, if you will. I go through all the feelings, some old, some new, and the list of grievances. This is the “these are all the things you missed and should have been here for” list. My grief quickly turns to anger in a heartbeat, but I dial it back, this is supposed to be a good thing… 

I finish eating and settle into my thoughts again to process some other creepy feelings. The anger comes back because I believe that if he took better care of himself, then he would be here. If I had moved past my pride and weirdness, maybe I would have caught him slipping. I also know he was a grown ass man, who even freestyled to the doctors about his issues and I dont know if he would have been transparent with me. Lastly, he was the parent, not me. 

That’s the part that bothers me the most. It’s the part that I struggle with now. Being present in my daughter’s life as a pillar of security but also letting her see the human parts of me that I don’t really like. I don’t dump it on her, but she is old enough to know if I’m not ok, there is no need to pretend, in that way, she gets to know me. I try to share all my good memories with her, try to make them too! It’s important that she see ME  and not  just Mom. It’s important for her to know that as a woman, she will be many things to many people but that she should be accepting of her truth, whatever that is. 

I am learning to accept my father’s truth. He is gone, so it’s hard to reconcile this with random spirit visits which are more like just stopping by  and not a moment to really work through trauma. Where he is, is not like here. What he “remembers” is more of what I remember about him, spirits forget what feelings feel like. They don’t understand time the same, or a lot of the things we find pressing. As a direct descendant, I’m sure it’s a little weird for him too, as the gap of time is so small between us. 

I hope on his anniversary, that he sees past my morose demeanor and sees that I’m happy. I have a beautiful child that keeps me on my toes, who is developing hopefully more than mirroring. A beautiful path laid out under blue skies and sunflowers because she is loved, by so many, and has her guardian angel grandad looking out for her. 

A dog that is the equivalent of a toddler and a messy confidant who speaks in fuff’s and sneezes but I understand the shade clearly, I think I learned that animal language from my dad too.

A partner that sometimes wears the vestige of the departed who loved me, especially when he is laughing.  Someone who will paint the inside of an umbrella so that the sun will always shine on me, even on those rainy days and who makes my coffee just right. 

Dad, your death was a terrible loss, one I didn’t even realize the impact of until many years later, I’m clearly still hung up about how it all happened, while also knowing this is how it had to be. Your loss also bridged a lot of things for me, that I didn’t realize needed it. I am trying to honor your memory in the way I feel you would enjoy best, with food, music and drink but it’s hard. I can’t not cry. So for now, you get some food full of memories and magic, a beverage and a smoke, which is a step up from avoidance, then a guilty beverage offering. 

I hope that in your spirit travels you’ve met my father-in- law, we’ve interacted a few times, and I think he likes me! I hope it happened at Coney Island amongst the clam shells and salsa music blasting through bluetooth speakers and I hope that together you can both be proud of your children. You live on in our blood, in our stories and in our home.

Print Recipe

Asopado (Asopao) de Pollo

A humble soupy rice dish

Prep Time0 mins

Cook Time45 mins

Course: Main Course

Servings: 6

Author: Andrea Maldonado

Ingredients

• 2 Tbsps Achiote Oil store bought, freshly made
• 1 large red onion
• 1/2 medium green pepper
• 2 ea scallions
• 2 ea garlic cloves omit if using alino
• 1 Tbsp Cilantro stems, chopped
• 1 tsp Alino minced garlic, oregano, cumin, salt
• 1 1/2 cups long grain rice, washed
• 1 cup peas and carrots, frozen
• 3 cups chicken, shredded
• 1 ea sazon packet
• 1 ea cubito de pollo
• 10-12 cups chicken broth
• extra cilantro sprigs
• Salt and pepper or Adobo as needed
• 1 ea avocado, sliced or chopped optional
• hot sauce optional

Instructions

• In a large pot, heat achiote oil over medium heat. Add Sofrito ( onions, peppers, scallions, garlic or alino, cilantro sprigs) sweat vegetables until soft and translucent.

  Add rice, and toss , toasting slightly, add peas and carrots, chicken, sazon , cubito and broth. Bring to a boil then reduce to a low simmer. Cook until rice is tender, more on the softer side than usual, about 30- 35 minutes. Add more broth if too dry. Season with salt and pepper if needed or a sprinkle of Adobo.

  Serve hot with avocado, limes, pickled onions and hot sauce!

January Moon Cake : Coconut cake with cream cheese filling and frosting 

Coconut : element of water 

Some coconut tidbits : It can be turned into oil which is great for skincare, cooking and lube (totally a real thing. Personally tried it, but before you do, talk to your Dr. and make sure it won’t be an issue for you, because the last thing you want is a yeast infection. )

The type of “Lube” I was envisioning though, was in reference to communicating our feelings and the receiving/giving of information. If you’re “well lubed” then things go smoother, and feel SO much better, especially when emotions can run high. 

Toasted coconut pieces : I used them for texture, contrast but also to represent struggle, feeling moody, . It’s ok, doesn’t ruin the cake and sometimes showing vulnerability is necessary.

Cream cheese : comfort food, therefore nurturing , because all cheese is welcomed in my home. 

Mini pearls and Jimmies (sprinkles) : Nothing like something sparkly to remind you of the good things in life and how you have them all around you! 

Silver Stars : to remind you that you’re made up of stardust, live your life and enjoy the fuck out of it, with the people that make you a better person. 

Here are my thoughts and how I made sense of this energy….

January Full Moon falls on Friday the 10th. The moon will be hanging out in the astrological sign of Cancer, during an eclipse…. It’s about to get messy for some folks, if it hasn’t already!

 Cancerian ( Is this even a word?) energy is great for getting in touch with your emotions / feelings, expressing them (ideally in a good way), working on relationships, and can be nurturing with those “feel good” vibes of a cozy home, a hug, or laying on clean sheets. Those are the things you want to focus on. Spending time with loved ones or doing something nice for yourself. Release is a theme with this moon and ideally it should be about letting go, ending something that’s been a blockage or holding you back, working something out and solutions. 

Releasing emotions… during an eclipse… with a full moon in cancer… “waiter, Check please!!!” It can be difficult to sort through them on a good day but with all that going on, its best to try NOT to, unless there really is no other choice, and usually, most things can wait. In fact, they really should. I say that only because when we are emotionally charged, we don’t always measure our words , don’t have all the facts or can overreact (I feel very attacked by my own interpretation!) When researching this moon, I read that the Twin Star Castor will be shedding some of its influence here and all I can think of is Nicolas Cage and  Face off . (crying emoji)  

Castor is said to be the “good twin” bringing with him lots of clarity and exposing what isn’t working or good for you. He can bring influences of healing and renewal “ When well aspected in your natal chart, these folks can be exceptionally gifted intellectually.” – Eric Morse, Astrologer. He also says they have a tendency to be “helicoptery” emotionally and sometimes have to be reigned in ( he didn’t say it that way, but it sounded better to me lol). In other words, that Cancerian energy is really out here doing the most. For example, Nicolas Cage as Castor, tying his brother Pollux’s shoes even though they are grown ass people, his brother is a criminal mastermind, and you know damn well he can tie his own shoes!  (crying emoji!!) 

Australia is burning, we are on edge with the current political climate when the idea of war looms in the back of our brains. Even if you haven’t sat to unpack those feelings or give them a thought, the folks around you are. They can’t stop talking about it at work, twitter is constantly reminding me, the IG Memes are funny but in that dark way to try and give you some actual hope that all this is a joke. The roaring fires, the animals… If you’re triggered by any of these issues they can applify other things around you because you’re kind of on edge and may not know it. Be aware of this when communicating with others, especially if you’re “in your feelings”. Leave important decision making for another day, and tough conversations can also wait till the weekend. 

Be mindful of oversharing and if you’re prone to have dramatic moods (guilty as charged!) try something productive to take your mind off of whatever you are thinking about or focus on self care!  Chances are, it really wasn’t that serious or you took it way out of proportion (how is my own posting hurting my feelings?!). 

I say this with the deepest regard for those who suffer from anxiety (raising my hand here) and things of that nature. This moon can be a little jarring, and move you to react in ways that may be hurtful to yourself and to others because you spun out of control and had a case of verbal diarrhea or caught that foot in mouth disease. 

Should this happen to you and you fall prey to some of the negative aspects that this can draw out of you, please know that it’s ok to have a moment. The people closest to you understand, but also know that it’s important to acknowledge what happened, and an apology may need to be made and possibly some changes. This is where that Cancer energy can shine! plan a coffee date, send them some uber eats, or flowers, a cute email note, something that says “Im sorry, I love you and thank you for loving me.” If THAT isn’t some Cancerian ish, I don’t know what is! So be cool, be kind , and breath.

What are Moon Cakes? 

“ A moon cake is a Chinese bakery product traditionally eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The festival is about lunar appreciation and Moon watching, and moon cakes are regarded as an indispensable delicacy. Moon cakes are offered between friends or on family gatherings while celebrating the festival”. If this is what you’re looking for, I’m sorry you’re on the wrong page. 

Moon cakes are something I came up with to celebrate and process the affects or aspects of the full moon in every month. I may reference the moon’s name for inspiration, seasonal colors, ingredients, color magic, other witchy influences as well as where it’s hanging out astrologically. For instance, January’s full moon is called the Wolf moon, and it’s in the sign of Cancer, during an eclipse (cue dramatic music!!!) Its January in the states (north east coast) so its cold, there should be snow but there isn’t and its scary)( hence the white cake and decor, as well as the coconut which is also watery and the perfect pairing for Cancer) There will be meme’s and maybe even some music, who knows but this is meant to be fun and a great way to get my awkward self interacting with you all! 

Where I would like to see this go, is posting the recipe ahead of time ( considering a patreon option) and watching you all enjoy #GWMoonCakes on your Instagram feed/stories ! If this is something that interests you, please like and comment under the cake picture ( coming up this Friday) that kind of motivation is undeniably helpful and it keeps me as part of your feed! Win -Win! 

The Full Moon Schedule for 2020:

Jan. 10 Wolf Moon – Cancer, Eclipse 

Feb. 9 Snow Moon – Leo

Mar. 9 Worm Moon – Virgo

Apr. 7 Pink Moon -Libra 

May 7 Flower Moon – Scorpio

Jun. 5 Strawberry Moon – Sagittarius 

Jul. 5 Buck Moon – Capricorn 

Aug. 3 Sturgeon Moon – Aquarius

Sep. 2 Corn Moon – Pisces 

Oct. 1 Harvest Moon – Aries

Oct. 31 Blue Moon – Taurus

Nov. 30 Beaver Moon – Gemini

Dec. 29 Cold Moon – Cancer (Why?!) 

Disclaimer : I am not in any way an Astrologer. I enjoy the subject, especially when people tell me things and teach me. It’s a subject that is so vast and can be a little difficult to wrap my head around, so you may hear some astro lingo but rest assured, it was researched and I’ll be crediting and naming sources for direct quotes. So if I sound off in any way, please know that these are just MY thoughts, and how I am reasoning with the energy. If it’s totally bonkers then its really not my fault, the MOON made me do it! 

The Dumb Supper is a dinner where the participants remain silent throughout the whole meal. This is one of the many traditional ways to honor our ancestors or deceased loved one this Samhain. During this specific time of year contact with the spirit world is said to be the easiest as the veil that separates us is the thinnest. 

A table is decorated and set for attending guests. It can be as simple or as elaborate as you wish. Decorate with gourds, pumpkins, and fall colors to honor the harvest. Candles are usually the primary source of light for this event so consider using candelabras or tall candle sticks. Set your table with plates, cutlery and glassware. Menu cards and place cards give each place setting a personal touch, but again, if you wish to go simple, then go for it! 

The head of the table is set in the same fashion as everyone else’s, but no one will sit  there. This is the place designated for the dead. Shroud the chair in a pretty black cloth or something of your liking. Have each guest bring a card written for the spirit(s), things they would like to share, happy memories, or whatever they chose. This will not be seen by anyone or read out loud. It would be very difficult to set a place for all who have passed so give everyone a candle or a tea light so that they can place it on the table in honor of their specific loved one. 

To start the ritual, make sacred space by cleansing with smoke or any practice you use, as you want to invite only good energy into your area. Cast your circle and call corners (if you do this) again to keep those inside protected at all times from wandering energies. Invite your guests into the sacred space – the ritual has begun. If your guests are people that you practice the craft with, or have experience, consider including them in the ritual aspects. That can be creating sacred space, and dividing up who casts the circle, calls the corners. 

As guests enter the space, they should visit the place of honor first,offering up silent prayers and blessings to those who have left. They can leave their cards, light their candles then proceed to their seats. It is customary for the Host to sit at the opposite end of the place of honor. The host then serves the meal and everyone eats. Should you wish to serve family style, you most certainly can. 

To conclude the ritual have everyone hold hands for a minute. Silently give thanks to the deities for the meal and the bounty of the earth, for the company and for the spirits that visited. The cards can be taken home and placed on everyone’s personal altar (till the end of Samhain) or if you so choose, they can be burned in a cauldron as a final offering for the evening. To conclude the ritual, everyone will get up and visit the place of honor once more and say their farewells in silence. Dismiss the corners and close the circle, the ritual is now complete.

Should you choose to host a dumb supper this year, here are a few helpful tips :

Know your crowd : Food allergies and dietary needs/restrictions may not affect you directly but your guests may or may not be able to eat certain things or even be in the **presence of  particular ingredients. Keep that in mind when planning the menu, you want all of your guests to feel comfortable at the table.        

Beverages : You may choose to serve alcohol such as wine, beer or a punch you made. Have alternatives as well as water at the table for those who do not partake or simply wish to have other options with their meals. 

Side tables or supply stations : As your guests are not able to speak during the meal, have a little area with napkins, utensils, cups etc. you will have extra items at the ready in case someone needs something or guests can help themselves easily. Let’s not forget salt and pepper! Have them on hand at the table, if you’re hosting a large group put shakers on both ends as well as the middle for easy access! 

“Pre-Ritual”: It is very common in the food industry to have a “pre-meal” meeting before service. Similarly, this would be a good ritual to have a short meeting beforehand. This gives you time to go over any last minutes things, discuss the ritual, answer any questions and remind everyone to be quiet when you start. 

Pick me up: Dumb Suppers have a very serious and somber feel to them. Lifting everyone’s spirits does not have to be a challenge. Consider having dessert after the ritual is over. Play music, games and dance. Our loved ones don’t want to see any of us upset, they enjoy watching us smile, laugh and enjoying our time here on earth, so raise a glass and shake what yo’ momma gave ya! 

Want some ideas on what to make for your Dumb Supper? Check out my previous post on foods for Samhain !

Plan on hosting a dumb supper? use Hashtags #WitchesGottaEat and #FoodMagic on Instagram

Tag us so we can see what you created!!

Samhain, celebrated on October 31st is right at the end of harvest season for many farmers. With modern inventions we no longer have to worry or even think about cellars, preserving food items and storing them for several months but we can still eat conscious of the season and what the earth provides. Shop at your local farmer’s market, support the folks who grow your food and the people who also use these locally sourced products to make other things such as breads, sweets, and wellness items. 

I have added a list of items that are at peak season, perfect for any fall or Samhain meal. As the temperatures drop, stews, soups and roasts take center stage in the kitchen. The smell of herbs and spices slowly simmering in a pot is enough to give you the feels. 

You close your eyes and breath in deeply… a smile crosses your face and your mind runs wild with ideas of what could be cooking in that pot! My favorite thing is having my husband or daughter walk in and yell “WOW! That smells amazing!” as they float towards the stove to get a closer whiff, and maybe even a taste. 

Squashes and root vegetables are versatile. They can stand up to all cooking methods whether its sauteing, roasting, frying or boiling. You can easily make purees or mash for side dishes and they make excellent soup components or soup bases. They are nutritious and hearty, which make for excellent vegetarian and vegan options. 

Grains : amaranth,  barley, bulgar, farro, millet,  quinoa,rice (brown, wild, etc) spelt, 

Root Vegetables : beets, carrots, celeriac, parsnips, potatoes, sweet potatoes, taro,turnip,  yams, yuca

Squash : acorn, butternut, carnival, delicata, dumpling, hubbard, kabocha, pumpkin, spaghetti  

Fruits  : Apples, figs, grapes,  pears, persimmons, pomegranate 

Nuts and Seeds : almonds, hazelnuts, pecans, pistachios, walnuts 

Herbs : bay leaf, oregano, rosemary, sage, thyme, 

Spices :allspice, anise, cardamom, cinnamon, clove, nutmeg

Alliums : garlic, leeks, onions, shallots 

Hearty greens: Cabbage, chard, collards, kale, mustard greens, turnip greens

Happy Kitchen conjurings! 

Share your creations with us! use #FoodMagic and #witchesgottaeat on Instagram! Tag us @gourmetwitch