It's been a wild few months for me with the opening of CAN CAN kitchen #2 here in LA. So exciting, but also so overwhelming and too many lists of to-do. During this time, I've felt a strong desire to keep sharing the human aspect of CAN CAN Cleanse, the fact that I'm not trying to sell another juice cleanse, but I'm here to make whole, nutrient-rich, plant-based food into liquid form (that tastes good!) and lead my clients on an experience. CAN CAN Cleanse is much more about the mental and emotional benefits than the physical (yes, your body will shed a few pound, but the best benefits are how light and clear your mind will feel and the huge sense of empowerment you'll feel when you finish!) You CAN do it! You can do anything.
What a feel good day! On Monday, October 21st, I had the pleasure of doing my first on-air interview and demo for local news station, KCAL 9. What fun! I really do love what I do! I wish the segment could have been longer as I had several more delicious, festive Fall recipes for you, but 4 minutes flies by! Here's a link to the video I hope you'll watch and be inspired to try Pumpkin Spiced Almond Milk at home. It's a goodie!
The other day, I picked a fight with my mom over pickles. Specifically, "real" pickles. I know what you're thinking: is it really worth arguing about real pickles? Well, as a certified nutrition consultant, I believe that it is. You see, pickles have immense health value - but only if they're real.
October 10,2013A few nights ago I was invited to attend a yoga class in Los Angeles. The teacher, and owner of the studio, started class with a mudra, or hand gesture to bring about a certain state of mind. That night’s focus was on change. I could either circle my arms toward me, bringing in unknown change, or I could circle them away from me and project change. But what kind of change was I looking for? Was I even looking for change? Isn’t change inevitable?
The sun was barely poking it’s head above the horizon, but my Grandma had already been up for hours. Cracking open the bedroom door, she peeks into the bedroom, the hinges squeaking enough to invade my quiet slumber. Rolling over, she quickly shuts the door not wanting to disturb me, but already knowing I had been woken up. I begin to hear the faint sounds of pots and pans hitting the stove and the smell of frying bacon creeps under the door. I can’t hold out any longer.