Sometimes a pairing is just not meant to be

Unfortunately, there are relationships that just cannot work out no matter how badly each person wants them to. Signs from the universe collide and repeatedly remind you: it is just not meant to be.

bummer.

(source)

I am currently dealing with one of those relationships. Before you think I'm getting all serious and melo-dramatic, I should probably clarify that I am referring to my relationship with my yoga mat.{that's normal, right?}

Story goes like this: Girl meets yoga mat. Yoga mat is pink, so girl likes yoga mat. Yoga mat is cheap, so girl commits to yoga mat without much soul-searching or product comparison. Girl and yoga mat go home together and enjoy yoga podcasts, sweaty, post-run sweat sessions, and maybe one or two instances of abs exercises.

When girl moves to New York, yoga mat joins her - you could say things got more serious at this point. Shortly thereafter, however, girl starts a side relationship with her gym and starts using their yoga mats, discovering that...she likes them much more. While yoga mat excels in bright pink-ness, it falls short in categories of: traction, cushioning and not-getting-dirty-constantly.

Fast forward to this past week, when I (girl) began my free week at YogaWorks, which is a byo-mat establishment. Day two, I leave my yoga mat at the studio. Doh! Two days later, I return to retrieve it. I don't have time to attend a class and attend a J Crew instead. Our reunion was brief as I left yoga mat in the dressing room. Twenty minutes later, on my way to dinner with an old friend from high school, I shyly return to J Crew and once again am reunited with yoga mat.

I meet my friend at the midway point between our homes: Columbia University (yes, she lives very far away from me) and go out to dinner at a restaurant near the undergraduate campus. As I get on the subway at 9:30 pm at 110th street, it hits me - something is missing. Yes, that's right - Thai Market received a donation of one hot pink yoga mat last night.

I debate going back to the restaurant straight away, but I know I would have to reload my metro card and tack on another 15-20 minutes to an already long ride home. I debate going back to the restaurant in the coming days, but given my schedule and the restaurant's severe lack of proximity to my apartment, forego that possibility.

In all honesty, yoga mat and I just are not destined to be together. It will take time to get over this break-up, but I already feel stronger and more free acknowledging that it is time to move on.

Tomorrow, I will cough up the $2 to rent a yoga mat for class, and I will begin the search for a new mat that really serves all of my needs.

...any recommendations?

Pure, raw lady-date

For my birthday this year, I was the very fortunate recipient of a gift card to New York's own temple of healthy eating: Pure Food and Wine, the raw, vegan culinary enterprise from the beautiful (shocker) Sarma MeIngailis.

A testament to how busy I've been is that my birthday was in May and I was finally able to enjoy my meal at Pure, with, of course, my dear friend who gave me the gift, last night.

Thankfully, it was well worth the wait. I had been dreaming of raw mushroom ravioli and decadent raw desserts for so long that the lines had begun to blur between what I had actually eaten and what I had just seen photos of online and drooled over. The trick I employed to distinguish between the two was to remind myself that I actually hadn't eating anything from the restaurant. Ohhhh, right.

Well I can't say that anymore, can I get a woo-hoo for that?

What distinguishes Pure from other healthy or even vegan restaurants is, yes, that the food served is entirely 'raw': not heated over 118 degrees, but more than that, that it is truly a gourmet dining experience. Sarma does not sacrifice one ounce of elegance or comfort both in the preparation of foods and in the ambiance of the restaurant itself.

This visit was a true indulgence.

We split a maki appetizer to start, which was made of: avocado, delicious, and deliciousness.

Moving right along to our entrees, Ellen enjoyed her favorite, the corn tamales, which succeeded in tasting, dare I say...meaty? I opted for the squash blossoms with cashew nut cheese and green beans which were mysteriously crunchy as though they had been...cooked?

romantic lighting does not lend itself to the best iPhone photography

For dessert we each ordered ice cream treats, perfectly complimenting the warm summer evening. Again, although they were vegan and not really frozen, they were completely, unequivocally....ice cream-y.

to the amusement of absolutely no one, I felt the need to instagram my dessert

How do they do it? Ellen had had the good fortune of enjoying a sampling of the menu with the restaurateur herself and explained how the process of dehydrating and soaking many of the elements of each dish begins a week prior to serving, and how the chefs aim to create combinations that compliment each other in such a way that they trick the mind into assuming it is enjoying a cooked dish. The level of science, attention to detail, and culinary expertise necessary to create each dish is simply mind boggling and left me in awe.

And full and happy.

We also spotted Sarma, hard at work on her laptop in the corner, looking stunning per the usual. I totally gawked. I was definitely the coolest customer Pure has ever had, and they are welcome for my patronage.

The one potential detrimental side effect of this overwhelmingly wonderful dining experience is that I fear I will hate every meal I have until my [inevitable] return. Oh well, sacrifices must be made.