The first month of our new year landed me in a new role as General Counsel (and many other hats) of a Guatemalan asset manager, IDC Network. I won’t talk much about work, but somehow with my head buried in ramping up and getting a handle of the IVF process, all of sudden it is March 1, 2025. Time feels more fluid than usual right now, especially amidst the ever quickening narrative loops of our news cycle. Early morning rows and revisiting my morning meditation routine have very much helped.
I had wanted to stop in St. Augustine to visit a famous religious site, Our Lady of la Leche, on our way to North Georgia. We weren’t able to make it back in December, and so, on the first long weekend of 2025, I embarked on a solo road trip up the Florida east coast for my pilgrimage. A friend commented that this was ~5 hour drive (each way) was a little long to do alone, to which I thought, well it’s only like 1.5 Joe Rogan podcasts. As a child, I found driving through Florida incredibly boring — the landscape is flat, monotonous and littered with truck stops and signs advertising salt water taffy and gator heads. And if you are not going 90, you are probably getting passed. Somewhere in last few years, I have grown to really love our dear landscape and try to take in every detail while driving (at said 90 mph speed). Depending on the exact route, you get a little swamp, a little sugar cane, some Big Cypress, horse country, orange groves, wet and dry grasslands and maybe some good bird sightings. And of course “we bare all” trucker stop signs. In its monotony, it’s incredibly soothing. Exactly 1.5 Joe Rogan podcasts later, I arrived in St. Augustine and immediately went to Our Lady of la Leche, given it was the sole purpose of the trek.
The history of this shrine goes back nearly 450 years, back to the arrival of the first Spanish settlers that were sent to the New World by King Phillip II. The story goes that where the shrine is located is where these settlers celebrated the first mass in what is now the United States. Over the course of four centuries, it has become a place where pilgrims come to pray for the intercession of Mary — for a child, for the health of their children and for the safe delivery of those expecting. Many have reported miracles after praying at the shrine. While the shrine itself is tiny, it is located on an acre of peaceful, mystical woodland.
Despite growing up Catholic, over the past two decades I have had a mixed relationship with my faith — finding peace in prayer during challenging times, but disliking the structure of mass and that ultimately every homily employs some version of fear to implore you to turn to the church, ending in a request for donations. That being said, when inexplicable events happen, or things seem illogical, the best I can do is just turn them over to God and rely on some good old fashioned signs from a higher power. And this short visit brought me just that, a slice of much needed peace and mental clarity.
After my visit, I drove through downtown St. Augustine, which really felt like Spanish walled town with cannons meets Key West gimmicks. I checked into my room at Collector Inn and headed out for a later afternoon walk. St. Augustine itself is steeped in history — founded in 1565 by Spanish colonists led by Pedro Menendez de Aviles, it is the oldest continuously inhabited European-establish settlement in the United States. They named it St. Augustine because his ships has first sighted land in Florida on the feast of St. Augustine. The city went on to serve as the capital of Spanish Florida for over 200 years, and when the Spanish ceded Florida to the United States in 1819, it alternated as the capital of the Florida Territory with Pensacola. And in true Florida form, what was once rich history and Spanish colonial architecture is now a touristy, gimmick-ridden downtown area evocative of the best (or worst) of Key West. However, I can confirm that finding the Fountain of Youth was not one of these. In any case, I was pretty entertained by the sights (and people), had a great dinner at Forgotten Tonic and turned in early for a night of face masks and Law & Order SVU. My dream!
The next morning I had a lovely (but woefully frigid) run along the city seawall, across the Bridge of Lions towards the ocean and back, followed by a delightful honey cinnamon latte (I rarely diverge from a traditional espresso) at The Kookaburra and breakfast at Sunday before starting my drive back south. I broke up the drive back home with a much needed stop to see Caitlin D. in West Palm Beach — we always have so much to say to each other that we sadly never remember to take a photo. Our times together remain undocumented.
AND SOME NON-TRAVEL DIVERSIONS WHILE YOU’RE HERE…
SEE: Last weekend we had the pleasure of attending the opening of Alexis Rockman’s show, Vanishing Point, at Andrew Reed Gallery in Allapattah. It is up for the next seven weeks, and so if you are in Miami, I highly recommend a stop. Rockman’s watercolors (and two oil paintings) are dreamy — very rarely does a painting put you in place, giving you a specific point of view in a setting and making you feel like you are there. In using his vertigo to shape his canvases and distort perception, Rockman just does that. You feel like you are standing exactly in the natural setting he has created for you. In a dreamy abyss of jellyfish, at the bottom of giant redwoods or beneath Arizona cacti. Rockman’s enthusiasm for the beauty of the world we get to inhabit for a brief time is palpable. This show coincides nicely with Rockman’s exhibition that is currently at the Lowe Art Museum in Coral Gables. We had a lovely dinner after the opening at Jon & Vinny’s at the Rubell Museum.
READ: I have been doing
’s slow read of Anna Karenina and absolutely loving it. Anna K. is much more readable than War & Peace (although you all already know that I loved that). The book was originally published in eight installments — I think the publishing world should strongly consider bringing back this format and publishing a longer tome in “drops”. Right off the bat as Anna’s brother is introduced, who has just had an affair with the governess, Tolstoy hits the reader with truth: “All happy families are alike, each unhappy family in unhappy in its own way.” And off we go into the world of Anna and her torrid affair with Vronsky. Unsurprisingly, despite being published in 1878, feels oh so modern. Other than that, I have been ever so slowly making my way through Stanley Tucci’s book, which is still wonderful. I hope to make it through Didion & Babitz next, and ’s latest recommendation, Four Seasons in Rome.COOK: Although my cooking has been few and far between in 2025, I did make two new recipes that I absolutely loved. First up, a comforting (but healthy) chicken & leek pot pie, and second, a paccheri dish with pork ragu. One recipe below, pork ragu available upon request. I am working on having my friends at Grove Grocer potentially selling my banana bread and olive oil cake during the weekdays, stay tuned…
Chicken & Leek Pot Pie (adapted from Cafe Cecilia)
8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
Olive oil and sunflower oil
3 large leeks (you can honestly do more)
4 cloves garlic
1 cup chicken stock
2 tbl creme fraiche
1 tbl dijon mustard
1 tbl flour
1 sheet puff pastry
2 egg yolks
2 tsp milk
Thyme, salt & pepper, sea salt (for sprinkling)
Roast chicken thighs with salt, pepper & olive oil in oven for 25’. In a heavy pan, heavy sunflower oil, leeks and garlic for about 10’ and then stir in cooked chicken, broth, creme fraiche, mustard and simmer for 15’. Add flour. Season to taste. Transfer mixture to 4 individual pot pie dishes (I did two larger) and cover with puff pastry. Brush pastry with egg yolks. Sprinkle top with sea salt, thyme and bake in oven for ~35’.
Thank you for making it this far, till the next one, XO.
Also 1.5x speed for that podcast!
That chicken pot pie 🥧 🙌🏼🥧