Her napkins, kitchen towels, and now pillowcases feel like the kind of pieces I’ll have for years. I love using them in my own home—not only because they’re beautiful, but because they make everyday rituals feel a little more special.

We’ve stayed in touch over the years, and I was so happy to finally sit down with Shay and get a little peek into her delightful world—one rooted in intention, a deep appreciation for the everyday, and a belief in the simple yet essential things that nourish us: rest, good food, gathering around the table, and the many forms of care that make for a life well lived.

I hope you enjoy getting to know Shay and the beautiful philosophy behind MADRE as much as I did. And if, by the end, you find yourself dreaming of a beautifully set table, you can pop over to her shop here.

1. For those who may be meeting you for the first time, can you share a little about yourself and the path that led you to create MADRE Linen? Was there a particular moment when you realized this was the work you wanted to be doing?

When we moved to Oregon to grow our family, I knew I wanted to try to be home with our kids. Our daughter was 5.5 at the time, and our son was growing in my belly. Pilar was going to be starting kindergarten at our local Waldorf Charter school, and she needed 2 little napkins for her lunch basket- one to use as her place setting and one to use for her hands and face. I searched high and low for something that felt kid-appropriate but not covered in silly kid characters. I never found them, so I started making our small napkins (11” squares) out of linen with a fun contrasting rolled hem edge. Little did I know, the brand was being born. MADRE evolved by way of NPG (non-perishable goods), and ultimately, when I was ready to pivot, I was asking a lot of questions around the supply chain. I wanted to know if there was any way a portion of our products could be fully domestic. The search connected me with a growing group of stakeholders who are working to revitalize and reshore the linen industry. It was my signal to proceed.

2. What I love about MADRE pieces is that they celebrate the beauty of everyday rituals. What first drew you to linen as a material, and what continues to inspire you about working with it?

I have always loved the texture of linen- it always felt chic to me to wear and use linen. The more time I have spent with it, the deeper I grow to love and respect it for so many reasons other than its inherent beauty. Flax, the plant that linen is derived from, is an incredible plant; one that sequesters carbon, is inherently pest resistant therein naturally organic, durable, breathable, thermally conductive, softens over time and use, it is a beautiful interim crop when growing food, and of all natural textiles, it is likely the oldest and carries the highest frequency. What is not to love and respect about all that!

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3. The kitchen is often the heart of the home, and so much of your work celebrates the rituals that happen there. Can you tell us about your kitchen? What makes that space feel grounding, creative, or nourishing for you?

We live in a 50s ranch-style home, and the kitchen is the original kitchen- nothing fancy and very outdated. In all honesty, I have complained about it for nearly the 2 decades we have lived in our home. In spite of the complaining, I have managed to cook thousands of beautiful meals in it for my family and for friends. When I am cooking in the kitchen, I like to be barefoot with my apron on, music playing in the background, and have something delicious to sip. Cooking is pretty intuitive for me- I enjoy looking at recipes for inspiration but never follow them verbatim- they serve more as a jumping-off point. Over years of cooking and raising children, the kitchen has become a place I feel at home in and confident working inside of. All this said, we have just become an empty nest this summer, and I am finding that I am not so inspired to cook. I am sure it will come back to me, but this moment in time is a little like a death, and I am honoring the grief of that loss.

4. One phrase that feels like the core of MADRE is, “We all eat. We all rest.” It’s such a simple truth, yet such a powerful reminder. Those are two universal rituals we all share, and yet they’re often the first things we sacrifice when life is busy. What inspired you to build your brand around those words, and what do eating and resting well look like in your own home these days?

We All Eat. We All Rest. These words feel so important to me and, frankly, quite political as well. I believe we all deserve these basic needs. I recognize that not everyone is afforded the same access to eating and resting, and that is a challenge for me for many reasons. In many ways, I am a very unlikely entrepreneur, especially of a “luxury” brand. However, I do see my brand as a way to share my ethos for living- that in the slowing down we resist our dominant capitalistic culture- the one that not only encourages us, but often demands that we grind. I do not find this to be a fertile and generative space. I may be overly idealistic in my thinking, but I want to encourage us to slow down, to gather around the table and break bread, and to have interesting and expansive conversations. I want to encourage us to rest our bodies and minds- to revel in the peace of rest. I believe that in doing both of these things- eating and resting well- we are then empowered to do the bigger things we are working to create and do in our work and public lives. Being well fed and well rested allows us to expand.

5. Your collections feel deeply connected to nature and a sense of place. How do landscapes, travel, or the natural world influence your creative process?

Certainly travel has influenced my perception of beauty and use of color. A trip to India and Nepal when I was in my early twenties was one of the most influential trips I have ever taken- I continue to look to this part of the world for inspiration. And of course, my Mexican heritage is something that I continue to explore and make sense of by way of flavors and aesthetics- so much pride exists for me in being Mexican- a culture so rich with flavor, music, color, and familia. My newest collections, Sobremesa and Primavera, have really leaned into some earthier colors- colors that are a little muted and dusty. Edging these linens with our signature papaya trim, I believe, brings a contemporary and unconventional pop that I find interesting.

6. Portland is home to so many wonderful farmers markets, neighborhood grocers, and specialty food shops. Where are some of your favorite places to source ingredients, and what are you almost always bringing home with you?

I will always be a farmers market girl. I consider it my weekly therapy because nothing gives me more hope in an increasingly technological world than farmers. Buying fresh eggs and local meat and vegetables each week also feels like an act of resistance. Sure, I could just go to the grocery store, but paying people directly for food feels right and powerful to me. In addition to the market, I love to supplement with specialty items from our plethora of beautiful small grocers. If you are visiting Portland, do not miss Milkglass Market, Wellspent Market, and Providore.

7. As someone who appreciates both beautiful objects and the rituals they support, what role does the table or sharing a meal play in your life?

The table is a sacred space. A space where we nourish our bodies and the relationships of those we love. While raising kids, dinner time was a top priority. A time we all came together at the end of the day to be together and share stories of our days. We always started our meal with our rose and thorn for the day. It was a lovely way for us to hear about the good things that happened as well as the challenges throughout the day.

8. What are you exploring, learning, or feeling excited about in your work right now? Are there new ideas, materials, or collaborations that have your attention?

Right now I am really focused on figuring out my return to bedding. Working with linen is expensive. Choosing to domestically manufacture is also expensive. I am working to figure out how I can offer a product that is beautiful and also “affordable”- I say in quotation marks because I recognize that what is affordable is very discretionary to each of us. My hope is that when folks choose to purchase my products, that they choose to live with and use them for a long time, thereby earning their value.

9. How do you stay connected to inspiration when life feels especially full or creatively demanding? As a new mom, this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I’d love to hear your perspective.

I love this question. And now that my kids are grown and I look back over time, I realize that my creativity has ebbed and flowed throughout the years. In honesty, I am in a low period of inspiration, but I have been here before, and it has always come back, so I am trying not to sweat it. Certainly some of the things that bring me inspiration are: my morning walks, gardening, being beside the ocean, conversations with my best friend, and travel.

10. And lastly, where can readers find you, explore MADRE Linen, and follow along with what you’re creating next?

The best places to find MADRE are on our site www.madrelinen.com or our Instagram @madrelinen <3

I’m writing this lying in bed, looking out the window at the beautiful ruby gems dripping from the apple tree. This time of year, the old apple trees on our property are heavy with fruit, their branches sagging under the weight.

Just below my view from the bed, we have a little table and a few chairs tucked beneath the old Gravenstein tree where we like to eat. It’s one of my favorite places to sit outside, especially in the late afternoon, when the air is warm and dry, and the whole tree seems to carry the sweet, almost honeyed scent of ripe apples.

With all the unusually cool weather we’ve had this summer, it feels like the garden is finally coming into its own. Everything is in bloom, the beds are filled out with green, and keeping up with the harvest has become a daily ritual. There is always something to pick, something to put away, something to eat while standing at the kitchen counter.

This little stretch of West Sonoma County I call home has a long history of apple growing. The Gravenstein, in particular, has long been part of the landscape here, with orchards once covering much of the Sebastopol countryside. Even now, in late summer, you can feel that history in the abundance of apples that seem to appear everywhere you turn.

I love a recipe that’s simple, unfussy, and doesn’t require much to enjoy the expression of this particular moment in time.

These stewed apples are one of those recipes. They take just a few minutes to put together, and you can use nearly any apple you have on hand—especially the ones that are a little bruised, slightly too ripe, or simply beginning to pile up on the counter.

I add lemon verbena, one of my favorite summer herbs, which brings a bright, citrusy quality to the apples without making them taste overtly lemony. It’s one of those herbs that’s so easy to love because it tastes as good as it smells.

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Well, it’s been a week! This post was supposed to go out last Friday, but Mother Nature had other plans. A large fire broke out on the coast north of us, sending an incredible amount of smoke straight into our little corner of Sebastopol. At one point, the air quality index climbed above 1,000, making it one of the worst in the world. We packed up the car, got out of town for a few days to find cleaner air, and waited for the smoke to clear. We're finally home, the windows are open again, and I'm so happy to be sitting down to share this with you.

I’ve been wanting to share more about postpartum foods for a while now. Truthfully, I don’t think I could have written this sooner.

As a new mom, I needed so much support myself that it felt hard to offer it to anyone else while I was still in the thick of it. Now, almost a year later, I have a little more distance from those early days and can look back with more clarity at the foods and herbs that nourished me, especially in those first tender months.

Before we dive in, I want to say a couple of things.

First, every postpartum experience is different. Every birth is different. Every body is different. This isn’t meant to be a definitive guide to postpartum nutrition or a checklist of foods you should eat. It’s simply a collection of the meals, herbs, and small rituals that helped me feel nourished while my body was healing.

Second, I was incredibly fortunate to have support. Our midwife also offered postpartum doula care, and she came to our home each week to prepare many of these foods for me. After an unexpected C-section following a 30-hour labor, I couldn’t stand for long, walk very far, or even hold Theo while standing without pain for weeks on end. Having someone step into my kitchen to make a pot of broth, stir a congee, or put together a simple meal was exactly what I needed during such a difficult transition.

There’s nothing quite like bringing a new life into the world, and it’s honestly hard to put the experience into words. I do think every new mother deserves access to nourishing food and support after giving birth. It can make such a difference during those first few months of recovery, and ultimately supports the whole family as everyone adjusts to this new season.

So, if you know someone who’s going to have a baby and you want to support them, this guide will be great for you, too!

The wisdom of postpartum food

One of the things I’ve always appreciated is how many traditional postpartum foodways, despite coming from completely different cultures, share similar ideas. They often emphasize warm, easy-to-digest meals, plenty of nourishing fats, mineral-rich broths, nutrient-dense animal foods, and herbs that support rest and recovery.

The book The First Forty Days was my first introduction to postpartum foods, and it’s a wonderful staple for anyone expecting or supporting someone after birth.

We know that after birth the body is rebuilding tissue, replenishing nutrients, and recovering from months of growing another human. Protein becomes especially important for healing. Iron may need replenishing after pregnancy and blood loss. Healthy fats provide energy and help us absorb fat-soluble vitamins. Fluids and minerals become especially important, particularly when breastfeeding.

The foods I found myself craving (intensely!) naturally fit many of those same principles—not because I was following a strict postpartum protocol, but because they were the foods that made me feel the most nourished. Here are a few simple principles I kept coming back to when thinking about food postpartum.

1. Rebuilding

Chicken Liver Pâté

I’ll admit, liver isn’t exactly the first thing most people crave. But after struggling with low iron during pregnancy, I found myself wanting foods that felt substantial and blood-building. Organic chicken livers are one of the most nutrient-dense foods we can eat, providing highly absorbable iron along with vitamin B12, choline, folate, and vitamin A.

For me, this wasn’t about expecting pâté to fix everything. It was simply one delicious and decadent way to bring those nutrients back to the table. Spread onto good sourdough with a few cornichons or olives, it became one of my favorite lunches and easy snacks.

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There’s a kind of summer abundance that I never quite get tired of. That feeling of coming home with a basket overflowing with fragrant herbs, tender greens, cucumbers, rosy radishes, zucchini, perfect farm carrots, and a bouquet of flowers, too.

I recently shared a few of my favorite summer produce storage rituals over on Instagram, but as I was putting them together, I realized these little practices deserved a place outside of a carousel. They’re the kinds of simple kitchen habits that have become second nature to me, and I wanted to give them a little more room here, because sometimes the smallest rituals are the ones that make the biggest difference.

Since moving into our new house a few years ago, I’ve become acutely aware of just how much a refrigerator can make or break that abundance. Our new fridge is much bigger than the tiny one I had at the cottage, but somehow it has a way of destroying produce. Things that stayed fresh for days in that little fridge seem to wilt almost overnight here. It’s been a funny reminder that bigger isn’t always better, and that a few simple storage rituals can go a long way.

Over the years, I’ve picked up a handful of habits that help fruits, vegetables, and herbs stay fresh longer, meaning less waste, better flavor, and ingredients that are always ready when inspiration strikes.

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Wash and dry your greens right away

Leafy greens are one of the first things to suffer when they come home from the market. I like to wash and dry them as soon as I get home, rather than letting them sit forgotten in the produce drawer.

The key is protecting them so they don’t lose their crispness. Since my fridge loves to dry everything out, I wrap them in a damp kitchen towel and tuck them into a container or reusable bag in the refrigerator.

Having clean, ready-to-use greens makes such a difference, too. They’re far more likely to become part of dinner when I don’t have to pull them out, wash them, and dry them first.

Give delicate vegetables a little moisture

Some of summer’s most beautiful vegetables are also the quickest to lose their freshness. Carrots, cucumbers, and zucchini can become limp and dehydrated after a few days in the refrigerator.

A friend shared a simple trick to drape a damp kitchen towel over them before storing them in the fridge, and I’ve done it ever since. It creates a little bit of humidity without oversaturating them.

It’s a small thing, but it can add several days of life to your produce—and there’s something satisfying about opening the refrigerator and finding everything still looking vibrant and ready to eat.

Store radishes and baby turnips in a little water

Radishes and baby turnips are particularly happy in a bowl with a little water.

Trim off the leafy tops (and save them for pesto, soup, or sautéing), then place the roots in a small container with an inch or so of water. They’ll stay crisp and plump rather than slowly becoming soft and rubbery.

I love this method because it feels almost like keeping a little garden alive in the refrigerator. And it also gives you a reason to use the greens, which are often just as delicious as the roots themselves.

Treat herbs and scallions like bouquets

Fresh herbs are one of my favorite parts of summer cooking, and I want them to be easy to reach for all week long.

Rather than tossing them into a drawer where they’ll quickly wilt, trim the ends and stand them upright in a jar with a little water, just as you would flowers. I keep the jar in the refrigerator and change the water every few days.

This works beautifully for herbs like parsley, cilantro, mint, and dill, as well as scallions.

There’s also something lovely about seeing your herbs this way. Instead of being hidden away in a plastic bag, they’re right there in your fridge, reminding you to use them. A handful of parsley can transform a simple bowl of beans. Mint can brighten a salad. Dill can turn plain yogurt into a sauce. A few scallions can make leftover rice feel like a meal.

The best way to use herbs is often simply to keep them where you can see them.

Give citrus a cooler home

In the summer, especially if your kitchen runs warm, citrus can deteriorate surprisingly quickly on the counter.

I tend to keep lemons and limes in the refrigerator, particularly during the height of summer. I store them toward the front so they’re still easy to grab when I’m cooking or making a salad dressing, but they stay fresh much longer.

A little care goes a long way

I think of these little practices as part of kitchen herbalism, too. Herbalism isn’t only about making tinctures or brewing teas. It’s about developing a relationship with plants and learning how to work with them in everyday life. Sometimes that simply means knowing how to care for a bunch of parsley so it lasts all week, or keeping a basket of greens crisp enough to become tomorrow’s lunch.

The goal isn’t to preserve summer perfectly. It’s simply to make it easier to enjoy.

When the refrigerator is full of ingredients that are fresh, vibrant, and ready to use, cooking becomes a little more spontaneous. You can grab a handful of herbs, slice a crisp cucumber, squeeze a lemon, and suddenly dinner is already beginning to take shape.

And isn’t that one of the best parts of summer?

xx- Sarah Kate

Shop My Kosmic Kitchen

I’ve curated my favorite herbal pantry staples, kitchen tools, and everyday essentials to help you bring more nourishment and magic into your daily life. From teas and spices to thoughtful wellness picks, this collection makes it easy to stock your kitchen with ingredients that inspire ritual and joy. Take a peek here!

Summer has a way of simplifying things. When it’s too hot to cook, put on anything more than a linen dress, or do much besides find the nearest body of water, the days naturally become slower and more spacious.

Our first summer with our baby has shifted that rhythm in ways I never could have imagined. While this season doesn’t feel quite as carefree as summers past, there is a different kind of ease in settling into the cadence of our days. The freedom of spontaneous afternoons has been replaced by nap schedules, early mornings, and familiar routines, but there’s something grounding about it, too. Our days are filled with watching Theo splash in his little pool, quick beach outings, evening walks, and seeking out every shady patch of grass we can find.

Home has taken on an entirely new role this year. It’s become not just the place where we live, but the place where we’re building a childhood. We’ve been tending the garden, dreaming up planting a mini lavender farm for the fall, and I’m currently determined to carve out a little patch of grass where Theo can crawl, play, and eventually run around.

The idea first took root during our little summer vacation at the end of June in Anderson Valley for our anniversary. We spent an evening at the Boonville Hotel’s legendary paella night, sipping wine while Theo happily crawled through the grass nearby. Watching him delight in having room to roam made us realize how much we wanted to create a space like that in our own backyard. A little corner where we could sit outside, linger over dinner on warm evenings, and give Theo a place to wander and explore. More than ever, being outdoors feels like the thing that nourishes all three of us.

This seasonal collection feels like a snapshot of this chapter. A few beautiful bags for carrying all the baby essentials (and the little apples Theo loves gathering from beneath our old apple tree), tinned fish we’ve been leaning on for the base of our snack plates when it’s simply too hot to cook, refreshing hydrosols and cold infusions, gardening companions, and a handful of other little treasures that have been bringing beauty to these summer days.

I hope this collection inspires a few small rituals, simple pleasures, and little moments of beauty to carry with you through the rest of the season. However you’re spending your summer, here’s to slowing down and savoring these long, sun-soaked days.

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I know it won’t last forever, so I’ve been taking full advantage of baking while I still can. Like many of the old homes around here, our little 1940s cottage has neither air conditioning nor much insulation, so we live very much at the mercy of the weather. Someday I’d love to have a simple outdoor kitchen tucked into a shady corner of the garden, a place to cook without heating up the house on those inevitable 90-degree days.

This week’s recipe roundup is a small celebration of summer’s sweetest gifts. There’s something almost sacred about fruit at its peak—a perfectly ripe peach eaten over the sink, sun-warmed berries picked and enjoyed straight from the bush, or a juicy plum plucked from the tree and savored before it ever makes it inside.

I’m not much of a dessert person most of the year, but summer always changes that. There’s something about gathering friends around the table and ending the meal with a simple fruit dessert that feels both effortless and memorable.

One of my favorite ways to make those desserts feel just a little more magical is by weaving in herbs from the garden. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate. You can infuse herbs and flowers into cream, milk, or simple syrup, fold finely chopped herbs into whipped cream or sugar, or scatter a few edible flowers over the top before serving. Sometimes the smallest touch is all it takes to transform a familiar dessert into something really special.

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A few herbs to play with this season:

• Rose — goes beautifully with strawberries, raspberries, cherries, peaches, and cream. A splash of rose water is especially lovely folded into whipped cream or a simple glaze.

• Lemon verbena — bright and citrusy with peaches, apricots, nectarines, blueberries, and vanilla. Try infusing it into cream, simple syrup, or stewed fruit for a delicate lemony note.

• Chamomile — honeyed and apple-like, perfect infused into cream for custards, panna cotta, ice cream, or whipped cream. It also makes a beautiful garnish when sprinkled over the finished dessert.

• Lavender — best used with a light hand alongside blueberries, blackberries, apricots, honey, or shortbread. Makes a fragrant infused sugar, but a little goes a long way.

• Lemon balm — fresh and gently lemony, wonderful folded into fruit salads, stirred into syrups, or tucked into macerating berries and stone fruit.

• Calendula petals — cheerful edible petals that can be folded into cake batters like natural confetti or scattered over galettes, cakes, pavlovas, and ice cream for a pop of sunshine.

• Borage flowers — delicate blue blossoms with a subtle cucumber sweetness, beautiful scattered over tarts, berries and cream, or any chilled summer dessert.

Below you’ll find a handful of my favorite summer sweets from the archives. I hope they inspire you to turn on the oven while the mornings are still cool, gather whatever fruit is in season, and grab a few herbs from the garden along the way.

Strawberry Tulsi Granita

A refreshing summer treat that pairs sweet strawberries with the gentle spice and floral notes of tulsi. Light, icy, and simple to make, it’s the perfect dessert for a warm evening.

Apricot & Almond Clafoutis

A rustic French dessert with tender apricots nestled into a soft almond-scented custard. Simple and elegant, it’s a beautiful way to celebrate summer stone fruit.

Lavender Lemon Poppy Seed Shortbread Ice Cream Sandwich

Buttery shortbread cookies infused with bright lemon, delicate lavender, and tiny pops of crunch from poppy seeds, layered with creamy ice cream for a nostalgic summer treat.

Strawberry Peach Galette with Rosewater Whip Cream

A rustic free-form tart celebrating two of summer’s sweetest fruits. Juicy strawberries and peaches bake into a jammy filling, finished with a cloud of rosewater-infused whipped cream.

Cardamom Plum & Pistachio Ice Cream

A creamy, no-churn aromatic ice cream that highlights the sweet-tart beauty of ripe plums, with warming cardamom and nutty pistachios.

Strawberry Shortcakes with Lemon Verbena

A fresh take on a summer classic, with buttery biscuits, juicy strawberries, and a touch of bright lemon verbena folded into cream for a garden-inspired finish.

Enjoy! xx Sarah Kate

ShopMy Kosmic Kitchen

I’ve curated my favorite herbal pantry staples, kitchen tools, and everyday essentials to help you bring more nourishment and magic into your daily life. From teas and spices to thoughtful wellness picks, this collection makes it easy to stock your kitchen with ingredients that inspire ritual and joy.

EXPLORE HERE

Summer is in full swing, and so is our CSA.

Every week brings another bag overflowing with zucchini, scallions, herbs, greens, and whatever else is thriving at the farm. It’s the kind of abundance we wait all year for, yet it can also leave you standing in front of the refrigerator wondering what to make before everything starts to wilt.

Zucchini, especially, has a way of multiplying overnight. One week you can’t wait for the first squash of the season, and the next you’re looking for creative ways to use the fifth one.

One of my favorite solutions for the"what should I make?” dilemma is a savory galette.

If you’ve been in the Cooking Club for a while, you’ve probably noticed that I return to galettes again and again. Not just for a main dish but for seasonal desserts, too. They’re one of those recipes that feel far more impressive than the effort they require. Rustic, unfussy, and endlessly adaptable, they’re equally at home on a weeknight dinner table alongside a crisp green salad or served for a slow Sunday brunch.

The secret is realizing that a galette isn’t really a recipe, it’s a formula.

Once you have a reliable pastry dough tucked into the refrigerator or freezer, the filling becomes an invitation to cook with what’s in front of you. A handful of herbs, a creamy cheese, and whatever vegetables are at their peak are often all you need.

One of the things I love most about galettes is how they encourage seasonal cooking without asking you to follow a recipe exactly. Instead, they invite you to work with what’s abundant, whether that comes from your CSA, the farmers’ market, or your own garden.

Build Your Own Summer Galette

Think of this as a simple framework rather than a set of rules. Once you've made a couple of galettes, you'll feel confident making them a regular part of your seasonal cooking, adapting the filling to whatever produce is at its peak.

Start with a flaky pastry

A good all-butter dough is the foundation. I like to make a double batch and keep a few discs in the freezer so a galette is always within reach. Simply thaw the dough overnight in the refrigerator or a few hours before rolling it out. You’ll find my go-to recipe below.

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1. Can you share a little about your path—how did plants, food, or creative work first find their way into your life?

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been in awe of plants. I often say I’m a “plant person,” someone who deeply needs that relationship between plant and human to feel whole. Listening to nature, to the trees, to the way flowers seem to sing, has always been foundational to my being.

In college, I was drawn to literature, poetry, and forms of expression that attempt to give language to what often lives beyond words. I’ve always been captivated by that threshold: the quiet conversation between the human and the more-than-human world. That unspoken language continues to guide me. Over time, living in rhythm with that listening has shaped the way I move through my life. It has opened me to the many ways the Earth co-creates through me - through writing, gardening, studying herbalism, and through creative direction and embodiment. Each of these feels like a different expression of the same relationship: a devotion to listening and to bringing what I hear into form.

2. Right now, in this season of life, what does your relationship with nourishment, plants, or cooking feel like? In a world that can feel uncertain and ever-changing, how do you see your practice connecting to your community, the environment, or the bigger challenges we’re all navigating together?

Right now, my relationship with nourishment feels deeply rooted in both my body and my community. I am 43, a mother to an 8- and 11-year-old, and beginning to move through the early stages of perimenopause—a threshold that is asking me to listen in quieter, more intimate ways. My needs are shifting, and I find myself softening into that—learning to respond rather than push, to receive as much as I give.

One thing that feels especially present in this season is how much I need others. Mothering has a way of revealing the places where I cannot do it all alone. I feel myself leaning more on friends, on shared meals, on conversations, on the invisible threads of support that hold us. It’s humbling, and also deeply relieving.

Through this, I’m coming to understand nourishment as something we weave together. Not something we produce in isolation, but something that lives between us. The feminine, to me, feels inherently co-creative in this way, rooted in relationship, in exchange, in the quiet art of tending and being tended to.

When I turn toward my body and listen, when I honor what it needs in this particular season, I am also opening to that larger web. I have been really deepening my capacity to be held as much as I hold. This, too, is a healing, a new way of learning to trust the wider web of support, even as resistance rises to meet it. And in that, there is a remembering: that we were never meant to mother alone, or nourish alone, or live alone. We are always, in some way, creating and sustaining one another.

As a mother, this practice ripples outward. The more compassion, curiosity, and care I offer myself and my children as we grow, the more deeply rooted I become in my community. There is an embodied knowing that we are not meant to do this alone, that nourishment, like life, is something we co-create. We do not mother alone, grow alone, or sustain ourselves alone. And it is through these small, daily acts of tending food, touch, and attention that we begin to remember what it means to belong to one another and to the Earth itself.

3. Tell me about your kitchen or creative space—what makes it feel grounding, cozy, or inspiring for you?

I was just writing in my journal about my deep love for my kettle. When I think about my kitchen, I think about all the ways it holds me. The kettle is a tool, yes, but it’s also the first thing I reach for each morning as I prepare my chai, marking the beginning of the day with warmth and rhythm. It’s what I turn to when my children need a hot water bottle, or when they’re sick and asking for tea. Over time, it has become something more than functional, it’s a steady presence, a small anchor of care.

There’s a kind of comfort I find in this simplicity, in the quiet rituals that live in the kitchen. It reminds me that nourishment doesn’t have to be elaborate to be meaningful. Often, it’s found in these small, repeated gestures and the ways we tend to one another, day after day, without needing to name it.

4. How do you weave creativity and nourishment into your everyday routines? Are there little rituals, habits, or ways your work connects to the world around you?

These days, I find myself spending a lot of time at my computer. I’ve just wrapped the writing and design of my second book, a creative process that, in many ways, has taken over my life. I love this kind of deep immersion. There’s something about entering a world so fully, letting it shape me as much as I shape it.

At the same time, this process has asked something new of me. I’ve learned that I can’t stay there indefinitely, that if I push too far, things begin to blur, and I lose my ability to see clearly. Where I once might have pushed through, I now take that as a cue to step away.

So I’ve begun to build in small rituals of return. I step outside. I feel the air, the ground beneath my feet. I let my body settle and co-regulate with the living world around me. These pauses aren’t interruptions but part of the work itself. When I come back, something has shifted. There is more space, more clarity, more flow. In this way, creativity and nourishment have become intertwined. I’m no longer creating from depletion, but from a place of relationship, moving between focus and rest, between making and being made by the world around me.

5. Where does intuition or experimentation show up in your work or cooking? Do you have any favorite “trust your gut” moments?

I love this question! It brings out my herbalist self. Herbalism, for me, has been a profound pathway into trusting my intuitive listening. One of the ways this shows up most simply is through tea. Making tea has become a daily practice of attunement, a way of checking in with my body, my emotions, and the more subtle undercurrents of how I’m moving through the day. Rather than reaching for the same blend each time, I pause and listen.

What feels needed? What is asking for support?

From there, I let the herbs guide me. Certain plants seem to step forward, almost as if they’re in conversation with what I’m sensing. Over time, this has become a kind of creative trust-building in my intuitive knowing, less about getting it “right,” and more about staying in relationship.

In many ways, this is how I understand herbalism itself. It isn’t just a system of knowledge, but a practice of listening, of being in dialogue with the plants, with the body, and with the moment we’re in.

6. Who or what has shaped your approach to plants and food the most—teachers, family, books, landscapes, or something else entirely?

The seasons have been my most trusted guide. Each one carries its own intelligence, its own way of teaching, and somehow, they always seem to offer exactly what is needed. Spring arrives with its clearing and renewal, inviting movement and possibility. Summer expands us outward, into expression and vitality. Autumn draws us inward, asking for discernment and release. And winter… winter holds us in the quiet, in the unseen work of restoration.

Living in relationship with these cycles has shaped how I understand nourishment, plants, and even my own body. Nothing is static. Everything is in conversation with change.

Alongside the seasons, I’ve had many human teachers who have deeply influenced my path. But going to herb school and studying at the California School of Herbal Studies was truly life-changing. Being on that land, immersed in the plants and their medicine, shifted the course of my life. It’s what called me to move here, to root more fully into this work, and to trust that this way of living so intertwined with the Earth was not only possible, but essential.

7. What are you exploring, learning, or excited about in your practice right now?

Right now, I find myself exploring pleasure and joy as essential parts of my practice, not as something indulgent or secondary, but as something deeply medicinal. My own healing journey has been gently turning me toward where I seek reward, where I reach for that sense of fullness or relief. I’ve begun to notice how often that impulse can move outward toward validation, productivity, or being seen. And I’m learning, slowly, to turn back toward myself. To ask: what actually feels nourishing? What brings me into my body, into a sense of aliveness?

This has become a kind of reorientation, learning how to offer myself the care, attention, and love I once looked for elsewhere. And in doing so, something softens. There is more space to receive, more connection, more pleasure, more ease. It feels like a quiet but powerful shift. One that is less about striving, and more about allowing. Less about seeking, and more about remembering that so much of what I need is already here, waiting to be felt.

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8. How do you stay connected to inspiration when you feel busy or creatively drained? This has been coming up for me a lot, especially as a new mom.

This has been coming up for me a lot, especially in this season of motherhood. I think what I’ve come to understand, through my own experience, is that I don’t always feel inspired, and that’s actually okay. More than trying to stay constantly connected to inspiration, I’ve been learning to trust the cycles of it. There are times of expansion, where ideas flow easily, and there are times of contraction, where things feel quieter, slower, even a bit out of reach.

Motherhood has deepened this trust in me. It has shown me that not everything needs to be pushed or produced on demand. Sometimes the most important thing is to rest, to tend to what is here, and to allow the creative well to replenish in its own time. I’ve built a kind of relationship with that rhythm now, a knowing that inspiration will return. That it’s not something I have to chase, but something that moves through me in its own timing. And in the moments when I feel disconnected, I try to meet myself there gently. To trust that even in the quiet, something is still unfolding beneath the surface.

9. When you hear the word “nourishment,” what comes to mind beyond just food?

When I hear the word nourishment, I think of all the ways I attune— to nature, to my body, to my family, and to my community. It extends far beyond food. It’s in the quality of my presence, in the moments where I soften enough to really receive what is here.

Nourishment, to me, is a practice of receiving. Of allowing care, beauty, rest, and connection to land in the body. It lives in small things, a warm cup of tea, a shared meal, a quiet moment outside, the feeling of being held in conversation or in silence. It’s the subtle shift from doing to being with. More and more, I experience nourishment as something relational. Not something I create alone, but something I participate in, something that flows between myself, the people I love, and the living world around me.

10. If someone wanted to start bringing more herbal wisdom or mindful cooking into their life but feels intimidated, what would you tell them?

Start simply. Begin with one plant.

Sit with it. Taste it. Smell it. Take it in through all of your senses. Let yourself become curious about its subtle ways, how it feels in your body, what it evokes, what it seems to offer.

There’s no need to know everything at once. Herbal wisdom isn’t built through memorization, but through relationship. Let it be slow. Let it be intimate. Over time, that single connection begins to open into something larger, a way of listening, of noticing, of trusting your own experience. And from there, the path unfolds naturally, one plant at a time.

11. And lastly, where can readers find you, your work, or support what you’re doing?

I’ve been tucked away in a bit of a book-writing hobbit hole, here in the redwoods of Northern California, but I can feel myself slowly emerging as spring arrives.

Lately, I’ve been sharing more of my writing on Substack, Wider Circles. It’s a newer space for me, and one I’ve been deeply enjoying. Storytelling, whether visual or written, has always been at the heart of my work. It’s one of the primary ways I make sense of, and stay in relationship with, the world around me.

Alongside that, I’m feeling a renewed call toward creative collaboration. Before this chapter, I spent many years as a designer and creative—working with flowers, spaces, and brands to bring a sense of story and atmosphere to life. That thread is returning now, but in a more integrated way, woven with my work in herbalism, embodiment, and Earth-based practice. I’m increasingly drawn to supporting others in sharing their own stories through creative direction and brand stewardship, especially for those whose work is rooted in nature, the home, care, and connection.

And soon, my second book, The Seasonal Herbalist, co-written with my partner Sarah Dolan in Moon Canyon Healing, will be coming into the world. It’s a guide to working with plants through the lens of the seasons, bringing herbalism into the home as a daily, embodied practice of care, rhythm, and relationship. For now, Substack is the best place to find me, but more is slowly taking shape, just like the season itself.

*All photos courtesy of Moon Canyon

If you enjoyed gathering around the table with us, I'd love to keep the conversation going. Join the Kosmic Cooking Club for seasonal recipes, herbal wisdom, and thoughtful stories delivered to your inbox. Free subscribers receive every new post, while paid members unlock my complete archive of over 150+ recipes, seasonal guides, and exclusive kitchen inspiration.

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As we head into Solstice weekend and the longest days of the year, I wanted to share this guide as an invitation to slow down, savor the season's beauty, and connect more deeply with the foods, herbs, and rituals that support us through summer.

This is the season of abundance and expansion. Farmers market tables overflow with vibrant produce, herbs spill from the garden, and meals naturally become lighter, brighter, and more spontaneous. It’s a time to embrace simplicity in the kitchen and let the season guide what finds its way onto our plates.

Just as we prepare our gardens for summer growth, our kitchens benefit from a seasonal refresh as well. Taking time to stock your pantry with supportive herbs, reorganize your shelves, and gather seasonal ingredients creates a foundation for nourishing yourself with ease throughout the warmer months ahead.

One of the things I love most about kitchen herbalism is that it doesn’t require complicated protocols or elaborate remedies. Herbs can become part of the foods and drinks you’re already making—woven into dressings, teas, desserts, dips, and everyday meals. These small additions offer a gentle, yet meaningful way to support balance during the heat and activity of the season.

Whether you’re sipping a glass of chilled hibiscus tea on a hot afternoon, adding fresh mint to a summer salad, or infusing berries with fragrant rose petals, these simple practices invite us to slow down, connect with the rhythms of nature, and find nourishment in the everyday.

In this guide, I’ll share:

• How to refresh your kitchen and pantry for the summer season

• Signs and symptoms of balance and imbalance during summer

• Seasonal foods, flavors, and ingredients to keep on hand

• Key herbs to incorporate into your daily meals and beverages

• Simple rituals for bringing more ease, nourishment, and herbal wisdom into your everyday kitchen practice

Before diving into recipes and remedies, I like to begin each season by refreshing my kitchen. Just as we swap out our wardrobes or tend the garden as the weather changes, our pantries, refrigerators, and kitchen routines can benefit from a seasonal reset too.

Summer invites us into a different way of cooking and eating. The hearty soups and slow-cooked meals of winter give way to vibrant salads, cooling drinks, fresh herbs, and produce gathered from the garden or farmers market. Taking a little time to reorganize your space and stock it with seasonal ingredients makes it easier to cook in alignment with the season and incorporate herbs into everyday life.

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This year, I’ve fallen deeper in love with roses than ever before.

What began as a handful of David Austin rose bushes (Teasing Georgia, Alnwick, and The Lark Ascending are some favorites) has quickly turned into a full-blown love affair. Every morning, I find myself on the deck, stopping to admire each bloom, cutting a few for a bouquet, and gathering petals for the kitchen.

I think part of my fascination with roses this year has to do with the season of life I’m in. The transition into motherhood has been beautiful, but also far more demanding, humbling, and heartbreaking than I ever imagined. There have been more days than not that felt tender, messy, and overwhelming all at once.

Through it all, the roses have become a steady companion.

Their medicine arrives not only through teas, desserts, and herbal preparations, but through their simple presence. They remind me to slow down, to notice the small moments of beauty, and tend to tender emotions, rather than harden during difficult seasons. In many ways, rose has become one of the herbs I’ve leaned on most this year, both in the kitchen and beyond.

Today, I want to share some of the herbal magic of rose, from its cooling medicinal qualities and heart-centered energetics to the folklore that has made it one of the world’s most beloved plants. Plus, I’ll share three simple recipes so you can bring a little rose medicine into your own home.

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When people ask me what my herbal practice looks like, I rarely start with tinctures, capsules, or complicated remedies.

I want it to be as doable as starting with a jar of herbs and water, especially now, as a new mom.

To me, everyday kitchen herbalism is less about having an extensive apothecary and more about finding simple ways to invite plants into the rhythm of daily life. It’s the cup of tea you make while dinner cooks, the spice blend you sprinkle into a soup, and the nourishing infusion waiting in the fridge on a hot afternoon.

Cold herbal infusions are one of the easiest ways I know to practice this. They require almost no effort, no special equipment, and very little time. You simply combine herbs with cool water, let them steep for a few hours, and allow the plants to do the rest.

If you’ve been busy, been in a slump, or needed a little reminder to bring medicinal herbs back into your daily or weekly flow, consider this your sign.

Years ago, herbalist Rosemary Gladstar famously said something along the lines of, “If you can’t take the time to make a cup of tea, I can’t really help you.”

I’ve always loved that reminder. Not because making tea solves everything, but because it points to something deeper. Practicing herbalism begins with a relationship. It asks us to pause long enough to notice what our bodies need and to create small rituals that support us day after day. When we can tune in, that’s when the magic happens and when we’re able to hear what the plants are trying to tell us.

For me, cold infusions are one of those rituals.

During the summer months, I almost always have a jar tucked into the refrigerator, ready to pour into a glass whenever I need hydration. It feels like a small gift to my future self, something cooling, mineral-rich, and supportive waiting for me when I need it.

Why Make a Cold Infusion?

One of the reasons I love cold infusions so much is that they offer a simple way to increase hydration, nervous system support, and nourishment.

Many of us spend our days rushing from one thing to the next, often reaching for coffee, sparkling water, or whatever happens to be nearby. A cold infusion turns hydration into an opportunity to receive something more.

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There are some people whose work feels inseparable from the landscapes that shaped them. In this month’s conversation, I sat down with Gabrielle Mirkin, the founder of ACTIVIST, to talk about growing up on an avocado farm by the sea in Aotearoa, New Zealand, the healing power of Manuka honey, motherhood, creativity, loss, and what it means to nourish ourselves through changing seasons of life.

From childhood memories of wild ocean swims and spoonfuls of honey as medicine, to rebuilding after illness and the devastating loss of her family home in the Los Angeles wildfires, her story carries both deep tenderness and resilience.

I’ve been a fan of ACTIVIST for years now, drawn not only to the beauty of their products but to the intention behind them. Their Manuka honey mask has become one of my favorite simple self-care rituals, especially when my skin feels inflamed, dry, or in need of extra support. It’s incredibly potent yet so easy to use, and always leaves my skin feeling soft, calm, and deeply nourished.

I also love their honey and reach for it anytime I feel a tickle in my throat or a little run-down—it’s one of those simple remedies that always seems to help me feel better quickly.

So getting the chance to sit down with Gabrielle for this conversation felt like such an honor. I’ve long admired what she and her family have created through ACTIVIST, and hearing more about the story, healing, and heart behind the brand made me appreciate it all even more.

I hope this conversation feels grounding and comforting for anyone moving through a full or tender season of life. More than anything, this interview is a reminder that nourishment is about so much more than food—it’s about beauty, rest, connection, ritual, and finding small ways to care for ourselves and each other.

1. Can you share a little about your path—how did plants, food, or creative work first find their way into your life?

I grew up on a beautiful avocado farm by the sea in New Zealand. My parents planted hundreds of young avocado trees by hand when I was a baby. This is where my love for Manuka Honey (and avocados!) can be traced back to – my childhood growing up in Aotearoa. Manuka Honey is the medicine of choice for a kiwi kid growing up in New Zealand. If I had a sore throat or a cough, my mum would give me a spoonful of Manuka Honey. If I had a sore tummy, I was given Manuka Honey. If I fell over and scratched myself, mum would put Manuka Honey on my wound with a bandaid on top as it’s such an incredible wound healer. I spent a lot of time at the beach, swimming in the South Pacific Ocean, and walking through the deep-green New Zealand bush as a kid with my family.

My dad was originally from New York City, so each year he would take my sister and me to visit our grandparents there in New York. My grandfather was a fashion illustrator and had a studio in Manhattan for more than 50 years. I dreamed of being an art director at Vogue ever since I was a little girl. Growing up on a small island at the bottom of the world, I couldn’t wait to escape the isolation and ‘safety’ and explore the world. I was always told that Vogue magazine didn’t hire ‘girls like me’ – I suppose they meant a country girl from New Zealand could not work at Condé Nast. I did prove them wrong and moved to Manhattan in my early twenties, getting my first ever job in the city at Harper’s Bazaar, and then a few years later moved over to Vogue.

2. Over the years, what has deepened or surprised you most about your relationship with honey as a healing food and remedy?

I used Manuka Honey so deeply as part of my healing journey with Lyme Disease. My immune system and gut were so destroyed from a year of antibiotics (oral and intravenous). I was living and working as an art director at Vogue magazine in NYC. It was just after my 30th birthday, and literally overnight, I became extremely ill with terrible neurological symptoms – I went paralysed on the left side of my body, I had dizziness, brain fog, numbness, and tingling. It was like something had invaded my brain and attacked my whole body. I spent months going to different doctors trying to work out what was wrong with me. I was finally diagnosed with Lyme Disease – a bacterial infection from a tick bite. I made the hard decision to leave NYC and my job at Vogue to head back to New Zealand to live on our beautiful piece of land there, covered in native New Zealand trees, including a lot of wild Manuka Trees.

We lived in our old black barn on the land, and our beekeeper friends asked us if they could keep their hives on our land. We of course happily agreed, and they would give me this beautiful high-grade medicinal Manuka Honey all the time, which I used so much in my healing to restore my immune system and help heal my gut that was so destroyed from a year of antibiotics. Manuka Honey is so special as it contains off the charts level of Methylglyoxal – the potent active enzyme that makes Manuka Honey special and contains the antibacterial and antimicrobial benefits for both internal and topical use. Manuka Honey is also filled with Oligosaccharides, special prebiotic compounds, making the honey especially beneficial for gut health and healing. Manuka Honey contains a very potent antioxidant, Leptosperin, which is not found in any other food or plant on this earth.

It has a lot of anti-inflammatory properties and is extremely beneficial for overall health. Honey is a true medicinal powerhouse straight from Mother Nature – it exists without us humans, and Manuka Honey (and the oil, bark, flowers, and other parts of the Manuka tree) have been used by the native New Zealand Maori for centuries. The Manuka tree is considered a ‘taonga’ – treasure. For centuries, this resilient plant has been deeply woven into Māori culture, serving as a vital resource for traditional medicine, spirituality, and daily life. It was there on this piece of land, surrounded by the Manuka trees, the bees, and the salty Pacific Ocean breeze, that ACTIVIST was dreamt up and founded.

3. Right now, in this season of life, what does your relationship with nourishment, plants, or cooking feel like? In a world that can feel uncertain and ever-changing, how do you see your practice connecting to your community, the environment, or the bigger challenges we’re all navigating together?

Cooking recently has been a struggle for me since our Topanga Canyon home burnt down last year, and I haven’t been able to spend time in my ‘happy place’, which was once my kitchen. I had collected objects, glassware, and ceramics from all over the globe since a young age, and I always loved having friends over for dinner and making salads and meals in beautiful bowls from all around the world.

So in this season of life, I am enjoying working on designing our kitchen for our new home and working out where everything will go, and maybe starting my ceramic collection again one day. We are a close-knit community in Topanga, so I look forward to the day I can cook meals for friends again and repay the love and nourishment that so many people gave to us after losing our home.

We are connecting to our land in Topanga on a deep level at present. We have spent the past year removing burnt trees and debris from our 3-acre property, regenerating the land after the fire, and losing all the plants we had spent ten years choosing, meditating over, and planting by hand.

4. Chatting with you a bit about becoming a new mom myself, how have you, as a mother of two, shaped your relationship to nourishment? When you hear the word “nourishment,” what comes to mind beyond just food?

I am definitely the ‘nourisher’ in our household. My husband doesn’t really cook (he’s amazing at many other things – think gardening, landscaping, laundry, and surfing), so I have always been the one to nourish our family. I found this particularly stressful after giving birth to my first child (and working full time as well), to then having to try and nourish myself well so I could breastfeed my baby successfully. I did it, of course, but I look back on that time, and all I desperately wanted was someone to nourish me with home-cooked meals, cups of tea, and my favorite smoothie.

It was even harder the second time around, as I couldn’t walk for months after giving birth to my daughter from the immense pain I had from damage to my tailbone during labor. I was now cooking for my three-year-old toddler, my husband, and myself while breastfeeding my second baby. I love to nourish, but I didn’t always find it easy. It was my dream to have a postpartum doula who could cook for me, but it wasn’t something I was able to invest in at the time. I am still the nourisher – I cook a lot for my children, they love food and my cooking, which I am grateful for. I make their school lunches each morning, their golden milk with turmeric and Manuka Honey, homemade granola every weekend, and they love big pots of soup, a roast chicken, and salads.

I’ve cooked so much in my life, 3 meals a day, snacks, school lunches, always the one making the flat whites on the espresso machine, and the smoothies for breakfast. It has become quite a chore for me and not something that I really enjoy anymore, in all honesty. I’d love to get that spark back for cooking again. I think it definitely will ignite again, but maybe at a later stage of my life when I am not running a business full-time and raising two small humans.

Beyond food, nourishment to me is so much more about food. It’s spending time with my babies every day, reading books, making art, going on hikes, swimming in the ocean together, cuddling, spending time in nature, and yes, of course, cooking together.

5. Tell me about your kitchen or creative space—what makes it feel grounding, cozy, or inspiring for you?

My husband and I had spent ten years restoring our old wild property in Topanga Canyon, California. We had done everything ourselves by hand and planted every oak tree, sycamore, manzanita, sage, and native grass. Our ACTIVIST studio was my favorite space in the home. It used to be an old art and sculpture studio. We removed all the old, broken tiles, polished the concrete floors, and it was flooded with beautiful natural light. We had a huge wooden working desk, which was milled from an Eucalyptus tree that had fallen on our property.

It was where we originally used to ship out everyone’s honey orders; it was where ACTIVIST was founded in the USA. It was where the magic happened. The Los Angeles wildfires took our land and our home from us last year. Everything was burnt to the ground. So now we are deep in creating a new space for our family to be and a new ACTIVIST studio, where I know all the magic will happen again one day.

6. Who or what has shaped your approach to plants and food the most—teachers, family, books, landscapes, or something else entirely?

I really think the special land I grew up on in New Zealand shaped my approach to plants and food. My dad is a wonderful cook and enjoys eating what is in season – a lot of fruits, vegetables, and salads. So I think I got my love of cooking from him. He’s constantly sending me new recipes to try or ones that he has made from NY Times Cooking. Farms in New Zealand, farmers’ markets, and the ‘honesty box culture’ where people will leave fresh produce or honey out on a table on the street with a small box for you to leave a donation or a few dollars for a bag of avocados.

I’m inspired by all the people I know in New Zealand who will trade feijoas for eggs and fresh fish for a freshly baked loaf of sourdough bread. It’s a very resourceful society where people enjoy doing things for themselves rather than having staff and contractors do the work for them.

7. What are you exploring, learning, or excited about in your practice right now?

I’m really enjoying feeling in the flow with my work, life, and children right now. I’m finally at this stage in my early ‘40’s where I have spent years nourishing my two children and my third baby, ACTIVIST. We are all now a little more independent in life and work. The energy I have poured into everyone else in my life, I am finally getting to redirect this energy into my own dreams – I’m just getting started!

8. How do you stay connected to inspiration when you feel busy or creatively drained? This has been coming up for me a lot, especially as a new mom with limited alone time.

I’m so busy and often feel very creatively drained or just drained in general throughout the year. Each year, I deeply look forward to the end-of-year approaching, when our little family makes our yearly pilgrimage down to New Zealand in early December – the start of summer in the Southern hemisphere. It’s also the beginning of Manuka Honey harvesting season. We stay in our little kiwi bach by the sea – a bach is kiwi slang for a simple basic beach cottage in New Zealand. It’s here that I really decompress and get away from it all, away from all the noise.

It’s very isolated, and I walk through deep, thick green native New Zealand bush, I swim in the salty Pacific Ocean with no one else around, I read and put my phone away, I cook in our beautiful little kitchen there with local produce from the farms. My kids go fishing with their grandparents, my husband surfs (a lot), we make plans and manifest dreams for our life and for ACTIVIST for the coming year. It’s the place where I come back to myself.

9. What would you want other mothers (especially in early postpartum) to hear or feel supported in right now? What has carried you in those tender moments of motherhood?

My own mother always used to say to me, ‘this time too shall pass’ – it’s something I would often repeat to myself in my deepest despair, not knowing what I was doing with a newborn baby and being so insanely sleep deprived as my children didn’t sleep through the night for years. My mama isn’t with us anymore, but ‘this time too shall pass’ is still something I find on repeat in my life often. And it is very true – everything passes, yes, the bad things, but also the good. I do deeply try and enjoy it all – the suffering and the joy.

10. And lastly, where can readers find you, your work, or support what you’re doing?

You can find me High on Honey over at activistmanuka.com, and for inspiring recipes, check out more ways to use ACTIVIST manuka honey here.

*all photos from ACTIVIST

ShopMy Kosmic Kitchen

I’ve curated my favorite herbal pantry staples, kitchen tools, and everyday essentials to help you bring more nourishment and magic into your daily life. From teas and spices to thoughtful wellness picks, this collection makes it easy to stock your kitchen with ingredients that inspire ritual and joy. Take a peek here!

This spring has felt anything but steady here in Sonoma County. A very warm March, late rains, another heat spell, and high winds, the garden season didn’t exactly begin with ease this year.

And beyond the weather, adding a baby to the mix has changed the rhythm of everything. Some days it feels impossible to find enough time to tend to it all, but this weekend we finally got to plant our beds, and I feel a real sense of accomplishment.

Gardening has always been something my husband and I love doing together, and it’s one of the places where I feel most like myself. Being outside, hands in the soil, tending to the plants, it’s honestly all I want to do these days with baby in tow.

Over the years, the garden has been a place that brings me back to myself. In my early twenties, while I was in college, volunteering at the arboretum and community garden was the first time I truly understood what it felt like to belong to something bigger. Not just among like-minded people, but alongside the plants themselves, who, though I didn’t know it at the time, would completely change the course of my life.

In the garden, my anxious mind would finally quiet. I could focus on whatever was directly in front of me: watering, pruning, harvesting, planting. It taught me that when I poured myself into something with care and consistency, I would always receive something in return. Whether that was abundant baskets of fragrant tulsi, armfuls of Caribbean greens for cooking, flowers for the table, nourishment, or beauty—I always had a place I could return to again and again.

That love of gardening pretty quickly led me into the world of medicinal plants. I became fascinated by the properties plants carried, and by the long lineage of people who had lived in relationship with them, not just as remedies, but as teachers, food, ritual, and daily companions. Herbalism gave meaning to my life in a way I hadn’t experienced before, offering a way to connect more deeply not only to nature but to myself.

Throughout the past two decades of studying herbs and working with plants, I’ve found myself in some pretty incredible places. One of those was Herb Pharm in Southern Oregon, a medicinal herb farm tucked into a valley below the Siskiyou Mountains, where I completed an apprenticeship years ago.

Being on the farm in the height of summer, living alongside the plants day after day, I experienced far more than the foundations of herbalism or how to properly tend and harvest medicinal herbs. It was a season that deeply shaped the way I relate to plants altogether.

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We just got back from spending Mother’s Day in Mendocino, and it was exactly what I needed. My family rented a house perched on the cliffs in Caspar with a view of the Point Cabrillo Lighthouse, and the whole weekend felt deeply restorative. There’s something about that stretch of coastline that always pulls me in, and I can never seem to get enough of it. We shared long meals, went on walks by the ocean, watched the sunset, and slowly wandered in and out of town shops with nowhere particular to be.

Slowing down for a few days made me realize just how much I’m craving the simpler things in life right now: time spent outside, gathering around the table with people I love, making space in the day for walks and little moments of exploration, and having far less on my to-do list.

Having a child and still being in the thick of postpartum has made it incredibly clear to me that quality matters so much more than quantity. I’ve been paring back in nearly every area of my life—clearing out closets and cupboards so the things we actually use are easy to find, making fewer plans, cooking simpler meals, and grounding myself in routines that feel nourishing rather than overwhelming.

The same shift has been happening with the things that catch my eye, too. I find myself drawn more to objects, experiences, and rituals that feel thoughtful, beautiful, useful, and lasting.

In that spirit, I’ve curated a collection of things that have been inspiring me lately. From nourishing herbal infusions and soft cotton sweaters to special books and natural toys for children, these are the small things that have been bringing a bit more beauty, intention, and ease into everyday life.

I hope something here sparks inspiration for you, too, or simply serves as a gentle reminder to slow down and enjoy the beauty of ordinary days. Or, in the very least, is the push you need to book that trip to Mendocino :)

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Compound butters are one of those small kitchen habits that make everything feel a little more intentional without adding much effort. At its core, it’s simply softened butter mixed with herbs, spices, citrus, or aromatics, but it turns into something far more useful than plain butter.

It melts into warm vegetables, finishes roasted meats, and can be stirred into grains or eggs to instantly make them feel more complete. I like thinking of it as a way to keep a little pocket of flavor (and nourishment) on hand, ready to turn something simple into something you actually want to sit down and eat.

There’s also something surprisingly powerful about using fat as a carrier. Many of the aromatic and medicinal qualities of herbs extract well into fat, which is why butter, olive oil, and ghee are so often used in traditional herbal preparations. When you’re working this way, you’re not just adding flavor, you’re layering in another level of support through everyday meals.

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It’s been a little while since the first installment of this weekly menu series, but it’s never been far from my mind. I’ve been cooking and meal planning steadily, as always, but finding the time to sit down and write about it has been another story. Just when I start to feel like I’m settling into some kind of rhythm postpartum, life has a funny way of reminding me how fluid that really is.

In some ways, the pause has been helpful. It’s given me more room to create recipes, adjust my routines, and notice what’s actually working in this season. Coming back to it now feels a bit more grounded. I think you’ll find Menu No. 2 both refreshing and encouraging, something to support (not complicate) your time in the kitchen.

This round pulls in a handful of favorites for this time of year—with something in each category we tend to reach for: mains, snacks, sides, salads, and a little something sweet.

With the mornings and evenings still carrying a bit of chill here, bone broth continues to anchor so much of what I’m cooking, and you’ll see that reflected in this menu.

If it’s still cool where you are, or you tend to run a little colder in your body—think cold hands and feet, slower digestion or circulation, lower energy—adding broth to your meals can bring both warmth and depth, while also supporting your digestive fire, so food is easier to break down and absorb.

Spices can offer a similar kind of support, so don’t hesitate to work with cumin, coriander, cinnamon, fennel, paprika, cardamom, or even just a generous pinch of black pepper in your everyday cooking.

A few helpful notes I’d like to mention: 1. The Asparagus & Miso Pea Risotto, Slow-Roasted Pulled Chicken, French Lentil Salad, and Herby Quinoa Patties all work beautifully with herbal bone broth, if you happen to have some on hand or feel up for making a batch this weekend. If not, water works just fine, or you can stir in a spoonful of miso at the end for a bit of depth.

2. You’ll see salsa verde making another appearance this week. It’s one of those herbal staples I keep coming back to. It’s so simple to make, and it carries you through so many meals with a burst of brightness whenever you need it. I like to drizzle it over breakfast tacos, loosen it with a bit more olive oil for a quick salad dressing, stir it into yogurt for a creamy sauce, and the list goes on. If you haven’t made it yet, consider this your sign.

3. I’ve also included a bonus shopping list to make things easier. Use it to double-check your pantry or bring along to the store or market. Feel free to screenshot it or copy it into your Notes app so it’s right at your fingertips.

That’s everything for this week—take what you need, skip what you don’t, use the herbs you feel called to, and let it support you in whatever way feels good.

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For the past few months, I’ve fallen into a sweet Sunday morning ritual of popping over to the farmers’ market to shop for the week. I try to get there as close to when they open at 9 am as I can. It’s quiet, uncrowded, and the vendors are usually still putting out the final touches.

It’s time I carve out just for myself, to wander, to see what’s in season and abundant, and to let that shape what we’ll eat in the days ahead. Even when I don’t leave with a full plan, I leave feeling inspired.

Sundays and Mondays have also become my prep days—a way to ease into the week with a little more support in place. In this postpartum season, when most days feel like all hands on deck, having something nourishing ready to warm or quickly pull together makes a real difference.

I’ve also noticed how easy it is for me to forget to eat when things are busy, or to wait too long before getting something in my body. Having a few meals or snacks already prepared helps anchor the day, steadying my energy so I can move through it with a lot more presence and care.

When I don’t do this, I notice a huge shift in my energy and mood, so setting aside an hour or two at the beginning of the week to get some meals made has become essential to our family rhythm.

Another small ritual that’s been surprisingly supportive is keeping a running note on my phone for the grocery store and market. It’s part checklist of our weekly staples, part place to jot down meals I want to make. I return to it often, especially on the days when my brain feels a little foggy and I need something to lean on to pull a meal together.

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This is the beginning of that series.

For the first installment, I’m sitting down with Trinity Mouzon Wofford, founder of Golde, to talk about cooking as a daily practice, the kitchen as a place of return, and the quiet power of small, intentional acts.

Her new cookbook, Eating at Home, out this week, feels like a natural extension of this philosophy, a reflection of the way she approaches cooking as something grounded, personal, and woven into the rhythm of everyday life.

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1. Can you share a little about your path—how did plants, food, or your creative work first find their way into your life?

My all-time favorite book growing up as a kid was this gigantic encyclopedia of gardening. I would just stare endlessly at the listings of all the fruits and vegetables that could be grown. My grandmother on my mom’s side was fiercely loyal to nutritious foods. She was eating sardines and extra virgin olive oil, and almond butter — so I grew up with all of that around me. At the same time, my mom was battling a severe autoimmune disease for most of my adolescence, and I saw what a difference it made when she started seeing a more holistically minded physician and integrating more superfood-style supplements into her routine. For a long time, I thought I was going to be a doctor (I was pre-med at NYU), but ultimately, there was also this creative side of what I was interested in that I wanted to find some way to integrate.

2. Right now, in this season of life, what does your relationship with nourishment, plants, or cooking feel like? In a world that can feel uncertain and ever-changing, how do you see your practice connecting to your community, the environment, or the bigger challenges we’re all navigating together?

I’m a home gardener, now cookbook author, and my company sells superfoods — so I touch a lot of sides of our natural wonders in my daily life. Change is constant, and I really appreciate the way sitting down for a meal or spending a little time in a garden can just reorient me back into the present moment. The cooking especially, is so connected to community. There’s the immediacy of my household and my family, who I eat with, but there are also the neighbors I’m trading and sharing with. When I grocery shop, I prioritize the local growers and the phenomenal farm community here in the Hudson Valley, so a lot of my dollars spent go right back into enriching the vibrant fabric of small businesses right here. I think it’s important to understand how our small choices can make those types of differences. In the Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book, there’s a line about how just choosing to do things (like bread baking) with intention and goodness is not just imagining a better world, it’s actively bringing it forward. It can be hard to remember that when we feel swallowed up by economies that run on a global scale. Our small actions can still ripple outward in a pretty meaningful way.

3. I’d love to hear about your cookbook that comes out this week, Eating at Home—what inspired it, and what kind of feeling or experience were you hoping to create for people through these recipes?

So when my literary agent first reached out, maybe 4 years ago now, we weren’t sure exactly what shape the book would take. But as I kept chiseling away at the idea, the thing that really stood out was my conviction in the worthiness of mealtime itself. In our rushed-out world, we’ve sort of let cooking and eating become a chore to get over with as quickly as possible. We want to get back to everything else that’s going on: the to-do lists, our news feeds, whatever. Eating at Home presents my thesis that cooking itself can be a practice, similar to meditation or exercise. It’s very likely our most accessible daily opportunity to reinstate our connection with the present moment.

4. Having spent time in the cookbook world, I’m always curious how others move through the process. What did writing this book look like for you? Were there any moments that felt especially meaningful, challenging, or surprising?

Oh my god. Writing the proposal was one of the top 3 hardest things I ever did (the other two were 1. climbing an entire mountain with no physical prep for it, and 2. unmedicated childbirth). It was that intense. Once we got into the manuscript, though, it was really delightful. I was blessed with such a gem of an editor, Cristina Garces, at Ten Speed Press. She really understood and celebrated my voice. The book process saw me through two children, so it was a multi-year journey to get the manuscript submitted. I’m also so deeply grateful to my co-author, Rebecca Firkser, who put in so much time and energy making sure that the recipes themselves were coherent, well-tested, and delightful.

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5. How has becoming a mother shaped your relationship to nourishment? When you hear the word “nourishment,” what comes to mind beyond just food?

So the rest of the title for the book is The Nourishing Practice of Everyday Cooking. Nourishing to me means something that deeply restores and comforts. As a mom, nourishment is more important than ever. You’re quite literally getting the life sucked out of you for months or years with small babies. Beyond food, I’ve learned to be pretty serious about protecting a little “me” time. I do a morning walk solo as many days as I’m able to, even if it’s just 15 minutes before the rest of the madness sets in. I notice that if I don’t make space for those things, I’m pouring from an empty cup – and nobody wins.

6. Tell me about your kitchen or creative space—what makes it feel grounding, cozy, or inspiring for you?

The kitchen here is very crafty. My husband, Issey, and his brother painted all the walls and cabinets. We’ve got homemade curtains hanging up and herbs drying from the ceiling. Jars and jars of bulk spices, beans, and grains. I made a point to display our favorite ceramic teacups from our travels — we’ve got a set from when we got engaged in Puglia in 2019 and another favorite from visiting a family friend’s studio in Japan in 2024. If you know my kitchen, you know me. It’s by far the most deeply personal space in our home, and certainly where we all spend the most time together, too.

7. Who or what has shaped your approach to plants and food the most—teachers, family, books, landscapes, or something else entirely?

I love to learn from books, and I especially collect them when the topics are cooking, gardens, and agriculture. Some of my favorites are Martha Stewart’s Gardening (I treasure my 90s copy), Edna Lewis’ The Taste of Country Cooking, and also Michael Phillips’ The Holistic Orchard.

8. With so much on your plate as a founder and author, how do you stay connected to inspiration and avoid burnout?

Lunch breaks! Really. I never skip that, ever. And time out in nature, even if it’s just a walk around my neighborhood here. Those two things will take me pretty far.

9. With so many opinions out there, what’s worked for you and your family when introducing food to your children? What do you find they gravitate towards, and what do you love making for them?

We don’t make a fuss. Everybody eats the same thing. We have one picky eater and one easy eater, but either way, the same thing gets served up, and the kids can eat what they like from it. I think the key is that the adults also need to all be eating the same thing, because otherwise it communicates to the child that they should voice some particularities about how they want their food to be different. I love baking for the kids! Issey and I have joked that we’re running a Night Kitchen (a la Maurice Sendak) around here because after the girls are sleeping, we’ll sometimes just bake something fun together to share with them the next day. We’ve done a whole range of cookies, brownies, and rice pudding is fun too!

10. What would you want other mothers (especially in early postpartum) to hear or feel supported in right now? What has carried you in those tender moments of motherhood?

Know that you don’t need to apologize for wanting to be fully present for your family. I often felt a little embarrassed that I hadn’t sent my kids to daycare, and I worried that I would be perceived as “unserious” when it came to my work. But the kids are only in those early stages for such a brief period of time. It’s good to be present with them and to understand that you’re not going to have everything else together in the meantime. Let life ebb and flow.

11. And lastly, where can readers find you, your work, or support what you’re doing?

You can find Eating at Home at your local booksellers and here! For all things superfoods and cafe-style lattes, visit Golde. And you can keep up with me on Instagram @trinitymouzon and most recently, Substack.

Shop My Kosmic Kitchen

I’ve curated my favorite herbal pantry staples, kitchen tools, and everyday essentials to help you bring more nourishment and magic into your daily life. From teas and spices to thoughtful wellness picks, this collection makes it easy to stock your kitchen with ingredients that inspire ritual and joy. Take a peek here!

Spring has a way of nudging me back into the kitchen to capture this fleeting moment of freshness while it’s here. I’m always inspired by the bright, the tender, and the wild flavors that only show up this time of year.

This week’s recipe might seem simple, but it’s one I return to again and again. It’s deeply satisfying to make, endlessly useful, and one of those simple staples that becomes part of your everyday rhythm. Especially now, when herbs are abundant and asking to be used.

In the last few weeks, my garden beds have been wild and full with cover crops we planted over winter to add nutrients to the soil. There’s a mix of what we planted, like the oats towering above the tangled vetch vines, along with volunteers from years past.

Interwoven in the mosaic of greens, a few sturdy borage plants offer their starry, bright blue flowers, much to the delight of the bees. Underneath lies a solid patch of naturisum flowers, weaving their way throughout the bed with the most beautiful blooms ranging from deep crimson to a sunshine-pale yellow.

Nasturtiums are a great addition to any garden or salad bowl, for that matter. You can’t go wrong sprinkling their flowers with tender greens or adorning a special dish with a bit of whimsy. Both the leaves and flowers add a spicy note wherever you put them, so of course they’d be fitting for an herbal vinegar.

One of the easiest herbal folk remedies to make in spring (and truly any time of year) is herbal vinegar. It’s a beautiful way to work with plant medicine, preserving the vitality of fresh herbs while creating something you can use daily.

Having herbal vinegars on hand lets you bring the brightness and benefits of spring herbs into your meals in an effortless way. It’s less about storing for later, and more about weaving these plants into your everyday cooking while they’re at their peak.

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Easter, for me, isn’t about heaviness or elaborate spreads. It’s about freshness, brightness, and gathering around foods that feel like they came from just outside my door.

This year’s menu leans into that—soft greens, herbs in abundance, citrus, and a touch of floral sweetness to round it all out. Everything is meant to be shared, passed, dipped into, and enjoyed with loved ones.

Here are some of my favorites I’d bring to the table:

Herby Green Goddess Dressing with Steamed Baby Artichokes

Artichoke season has begun, and this is one of my favorite ways to enjoy them. Pulling apart artichoke leaves and dipping them into an herbaceous creamy dressing feels like a celebration of springtime. Plus, they look stunning on any holiday table.

Herby Sweet Pea Dip

Soft, sweet peas with creamy cottage cheese and tender herbs make for a quick spread or appetizer. Perfect with crackers, flatbread, or raw vegetables—this is one of those dishes that disappears quickly.

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Yogurt Flatbreads with Fava and Mint Pesto

Warm, tender flatbreads served with a bright, easy pesto. If you can’t find fresh fava greens, swap them with arugula. This is something you could serve as an appetizer or as the main event alongside other seasonal whims.

Savory Goat Cheese & Cabbage Tarts

Buttery, flaky, and just rich enough—tarts are always a crowd pleaser. The cabbage softens into something almost silky, balanced by tangy goat cheese and topped with chopped herbs. Use this recipe as a jumping-off point for other seasonal vegetables like fennel or asparagus. Serve with a big salad and your favorite white wine, and you’ve got a beautiful meal with minimal fuss.

Asparagus & Pea Miso Risotto

Creamy, slow, and deeply comforting—especially on a cooler day. The miso adds depth and umami, while asparagus and peas keep it bright and anchored in the season. The risotto will stay warm on the stove as you assemble the rest of the meal, leaving plenty of time to set the table and welcome your guests.

Lemon Balm Sorbet in Lemon Cups

A sweet end to the meal and a little moment of magic. Lemon balm brings its soft, calming citrus note—cooling, uplifting, and just slightly unexpected.

Cardamom Plum & Pistachio Ice Cream

While plums aren’t quite in season, you can use the base of this recipe as a starting point. Swirl in your favorite preserves like apricot, strawberries, or even marmalade for an amended version that saves you some steps along the way.

Cardamom Olive Oil Cake with Honey Rose Yogurt

If you’re looking for a dessert you can make the day before, this one is fragrant, tender, and not too sweet. The cardamom and olive oil give it warmth, while the yogurt adds a floral tang that feels just right for spring. Add edible flowers before serving to make it even more special.

For more seasonal inspiration, check out Herbs of the Season and some of my favorite Spring Essentials—a few ideas to bring fresh, herb-forward spring flavors to your table and your home. Here’s to a bright, shared, and joyful Easter!

Enjoy! xx - Sarah Kate