It simply feels right to me to blend the glittery delights of New York City with a largely raw vegan diet - with the soul-deep conviction that animals are not ours to eat, wear, exploit or experiment on.
There are some things that money can't buy: peace of mind, for starters, and lean muscle mass. Neither the Queen of England nor the founder of Microsoft can put in an order for either one.
I'm not perfect, but what's wonderful about eating a plant-based diet is, I don't have to be.
I realize that I'm a mature woman and one of these days, incredible diet or not, I'll be a little old lady.
As I see it, a green salad is an open invitation to carrots, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, and the sprouts that grow in jars on my kitchen counter.
Every year when I put away my winter clothes and get out my summer clothes, they fit. And I haven't been on a diet since the Reagan administration.
Our culture has long mistrusted the body. It's been seen as a confusing blend of God's handiwork and the devil's playground. It is, rather, a vortex of intelligence.
'Make your plate look like a Christmas tree,' I tell people, 'mostly green with splashes of other bright colors.'