I Was Nervous to be Honest…
Hi friend,
I was a bit scared to share my intimate newsletter with you earlier this week, as if exposing myself as someone who has said no to Botox would alienate some of you in the way that choosing a different cultural path sometimes can.
Instead, I received a slew of messages from Botox users and non-users alike that were supportive, questioning, and kind. It feels nice to have opened the conversation honestly. In some ways, it seems silly — how prosperous our world must be if these are the types of conversations we’re getting to have.
The majority of you were just glad that you weren’t alone.
Now that the cat is out of the bag, I hope we can continue the conversation on maturing and aging for years to come. The conversation of beauty and what is beautiful is always on my heart and a conversation I am always eager to have — or even defend if need be.
In case you need to hear it, I want you to know that I see beauty in you: in your crooked smiles, unruly hair, oblong body shapes, and boisterous laughter. I see beauty in caring for ourselves well, internally and externally. I see beauty in growing in maturity, deepening into wisdom — and age.
At my great uncle’s funeral this past weekend, I held my great aunt Marilyn’s face in my hands. She’s in her nineties now and very frail — I held her cheeks, gave her a kiss, and pulled back to look at her. My singular thought was: she’s so beautiful. Even with her translucent skin, crinkled complexion, and age spots.
I crouched to where she could see me with her poor vision and she eagerly looked over my face. “Shaye, well, aren’t you just beautiful today, sweetheart?” she said.
39 or 93. There is real beauty to be had.
Life in the kitchen without a Nonna
I share my intimate experience of growing up without grandmothers in today’s new video. I don’t know the taste of their signature dish or have memories of them standing over the stovetop. There is no taste or smell that brings them within arms reach — I was simply too young when they died to recall much of anything. But I wasn’t left without, and now, I look forward to being the nonna in the years ahead so that my extended family will know the taste of my bolognese:
Something Warm & Buttery
Soft Honey-Butter & Rosemary Rolls
The dough in this recipe can be used to make everything from focaccia to sandwich bread, but in this case, it will make us a big ‘ol pan full of soft and gently sweet supper rolls. The dough recipe makes a bit of a bigger batch than is needed for a standard 9x13” pan, so use a larger pan if you want to use up all the dough, or simply cover any remaining dough, store in the refrigerator, and use it up later in the week. Though we rarely have leftover rolls, when we do, I cut them in half, add on a nice grainy mustard, and tuck some ham and provolone inside before warming them up in the oven. Delicious!
For the dough:
1000 grams warm water
20 grams active dry yeast
1200 grams all-purpose or bread flour
3 teaspoons sea salt
For the topping:
4 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1 ½ tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Instructions:
Combine the warm water and dry yeast together in the mixing bowl of a stand mixer. Allow the yeast to hydrate for 5 minutes. Add in the flour and the salt and mix well to combine. Using the dough hook to knead the dough for 8 minutes. Cover and set aside for 45 minutes.
While the dough rises, preheat the oven to 375°.
Butter a 9x13 baking dish liberally. Working with 125 grams (about ½ cup) of the dough at a time, shape it into a roll by pulling the dough into an oval, folding the edges into the middle, flipping it over, and rolling it in your lightly-floured hands a few times before transferring it into the baking dish. Repeat until your baking dish is full.
Cover the rolls gently with a dishcloth and allow them to rise for an additional 45 minutes.
Bake the rolls for 15 minutes. While the rolls bake, melt together the butter and honey in a small saucepan.
Remove the rolls from the oven. Use a spoon or a pastry brush to cover all of the rolls in the butter-honey mixture, pouring over any that remains.
Return the rolls to the oven and bake them for an additional 5 minutes or until deeply golden. Remove the rolls and sprinkle them immediately with the rosemary and salt. Enjoy warm.
A note from a follower…
This past week on Instagram, I shared a reel of an Italian gentleman who shared his morning routine: he got up whenever he wanted, made a cappuccino, read a book, traveled to his local village, met a friend, ate a cornetto, drank a second cappuccino. Here was a follower's response, and it gave me quite the chuckle. I think often of the damage we do to our bodies with stress — how much more harm comes from trying to do it all?
An Honest Question
What would you do differently in life if you weren’t afraid of criticism? I asked myself this question for years before finally building up enough mental fortitude to begin Che Vita Getaways. Though very few were actually critical of our efforts to take a group across the ocean and spend a week with them in rural Italy, I anticipated the critiques. Who do you think you are?
Is it possible to be free in this way, when being critical of others has never been easier? Does it take extra fortitude? An extra intentional attempt to “settle it” for ourselves? How do we boldly move forward towards our desires in life, free of the burden of others’ opinions? Are we only lusting after what will bring us flattery?
Are we self-editing in response to criticism or in an attempt to receive praise?
And is that good or bad?
A dose of peace has come with settling it for myself. I know who I am and what I hope for. For me, this has meant holding onto enough ego to get started in what I want, believing I can make it happen, and then growing in humility enough to know that I will always be adapting.
One thing is settled: since I’m far too hungry for life to sit still, I suppose criticism and flattery will become lifelong companions in the journey.
I’m grateful to be back home this week, tucking into seasonal produce and fresh bread, and giving thanks for the rich experiences of this month. I feel very privileged to be here with you — thank you for opening this letter and spending a little bit of your day with me.
