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!
Getty Images/iStockphoto
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!
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.
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.
Andrea Maldonado | Gourmet Witch my disposition is that of a possum… please don’t startle me!
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.
Theban Script
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.
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!
1whole chicken, or chicken parts ( preferably with bones, skinless)
Instructions
In a tall pot, add 1 1/2 gallons of water, all the vegetables and chicken. bring to a boil and quickly lower to a simmer. If using a whole chicken, let simmer for 2 hours. Remove chicken and return all bones, and carcass to the pot, continue to simmer and additional 2 hours. If using parts, remove after 1- 1 1/2 hours and return bones to the pot. Strain, cool and refrigerate or freeze.
Andrea Maldonado is a classically trained chef,a graduate of The Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park, New York. She worked in a variety of New York City restaurants and high end catering companies. Andrea is an Initiated Priestess of Ochun in the Lucumi Tradition, High Priestess of the Deam Lux Coven and the Minoan Sisterhood. . Andrea is an avid reader, a lover of 1950’s fashion, red lipstick, winged eyeliner, a strong cocktail, having a good cackle- I mean laugh! With friends and enjoying all that life has to offer. Currently working on a bigger cookbook on more food magic, seasonal recipes and Sabbat meals.
