Over the years, I’ve gone to lots of conferences and met lots of people. We exchange pleasantries and business cards, then go back to our lives. But in 1995 I met a woman named Alice Crichton at a spirituality conference and began a very special friendship that would last the rest of her life.

Alice was born in Indiana and worked as a nurse during World War II. She was stationed at Crom Castle in Northern Ireland, which acted as a hospital during the war. The castle had been owned by the Crichton family since the early 1600s and it was there that she met her husband, Michael.

The castle was also the venue for the spirituality conference I attended almost 20 years ago. When I met Alice, I felt an instant connection to her and after the conference ended, letters flew back and forth from my home in Georgia and hers in England.

In the fall of 1996, Alice and I met in Glastonbury, England and that visit really cemented the relationship. From then on, I’d fly over every six months or so and spend a week with Alice in her little English village called Selborne.

Alice was 40 years older than me, but we were like two girlfriends. We visited crop circles. We went to sacred cathedrals. We even went to Stonehenge, where she told me stories about going there and hanging out long before it was a tourist attraction.

When it was time for dinner, Alice would shut all the drapes in the house—her way of saying the day was over. She’d change, we’d have a cocktail and then sit down to a three-course dinner with sterling silver and china. It was such a wonderfully civilized ritual.

In many ways, Alice was like a spiritual godmother to me. She introduced me to the concept of sacred geometry—a system of design based in patterns, shapes and forms that occur in nature. This was long before we even dreamed of Serenbe, but years later, when Steve first broached the subject of building a town in our backyard, the first thing out of my mouth was that it had to be based on sacred geometry.

During that process, we brought in Phil Tabb, a land planner with experience in sacred geometry. He showed us a slideshow on the many ways that design plays out in different places all over the world. At one point he flashed up a slide of a house. I gasped and said, “Stop! Where did you get that picture?” Phil said, “Oh, this is one of my favorite villages in England.” And I said, “Are you kidding me? That’s Selborne!” It was four houses down from Alice’s place. Of all the thousands of villages he could’ve studied in England, Phil studied Selborne.

It all came full circle and felt like such a sign, so we named Serenbe’s first neighborhood Selborne. It was my way of honoring Alice and the memories we made in England.

Though she came to visit me once, Alice died on January 2, 2000—four years before we broke ground on Selborne. She was determined to see in the new millennium and make sure the world would be okay. When she knew it was, she let go.

Two years ago, I was pouring coffee one morning at the Farmhouse when I came to a table of ladies visiting for a girls’ weekend. As I filled their mugs, they asked lots of questions about what it was like to live here. And I told them what I tell everyone: I love it here, I raised my children here and wouldn’t live anywhere else.

I get questions like that a lot. Visitors want to know if Serenbe is really as good as it looks. For most people, it’s a place to visit—a beautiful break from their lives. But some people come, go home and can’t get Serenbe out of their mind. They cross the invisible line between I wonder what it’s like to live there to I can see myself living there. And Nadine Bratti is one of them.

Nadine was born and raised in upstate New York and lived in Manhattan for 17 years before moving to Atlanta in 2008. She has two children, Ella and Axel. After that morning of coffee and conversation at the Farmhouse, she “spent every free weekend I had in Serenbe, getting to know the community,” she says. “I watched my children fall in love with the animals, the people and the lifestyle along with me.” She began building their home a year and a half later and moved to Serenbe in June.

Nadine also has a background in wine. Her mother is from the France’s Loire Valley and Nadine grew up working in her restaurants. She worked for a fine wine distributor in NYC and noticed the lack of a wine shop during her visit. She asked if the community would support a wine shop and I couldn’t believe the coincidence: The management behind our only market had just decided to leave. After a gorgeous redesign by Smith Hanes—the studio that did the Blue-Eyed Daisy, the Farmhouse and my own townhouse—she opened The General Store on September 11^th, a week and a half after she moved into her townhouse.

Opening a store and moving into a new home in tandem would drive most to the edge of sanity, but Nadine is always pleasant and seems unflappable. She assimilated instantly and jumped in feet first. Her gourmet grocery has brought an amazing quality of product to this community and residents can actually walk to the grocery store instead of driving 12 miles for milk. From charcuterie and cheese to grocery staples, sweets, wine and beer, her offerings “emphasize small, quality selections made by people versus machines,” she says.

She also offers the most amazing sandwiches in her grab-and-go section, all of which she says “are inspired by Serenbe and other places you travel to and remember what those places ‘tasted like.’” Favorites include the Serenbrie, The Serenbe Belle and the Tuscan Chicken Sandwich, the recipe for which she was gracious enough to share with me.

Tuscan Chicken Sandwich

Courtesy of Nadine Bratti, The General Store

• 2 pieces ciabatta bread
• 1 chicken breast, roasted
• 1 slice provolone cheese
• Lettuce
• Tomato
• Winter pesto*
• Lemon aioli (recipe follows)

*The winter pesto, made with kale and Swiss chard, comes from Storico Fresco, whose pasta and sugos I carry. If you can’t find this, a regular, basil-based pesto works just fine.

Lemon aioli

• 1 garlic clove, pressed
• ¼ teaspoon (or more) coarse kosher salt
• ½ cup good quality mayonnaise
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• ½ teaspoon grated lemon zest
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• Salt

Mash garlic and ¼ teaspoon salt in a small bowl until paste forms. Whisk in mayonnaise, olive oil, lemon juice and lemon zest. Season to taste with coarse salt and pepper. Cover and chill.

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things to do was visit Aunt Merle with my mother. Merle was mother’s favorite sister and didn’t have any children, so my mother named me after her. The last five generations of my family have had a Merle Marie, though I’ll probably be the last.

When we’d visit, Aunt Merle always made us sticky rice. She’d cook that Comet rice in her Revere Wear on the stovetop: 2 cups water, 1 cup rice, 1 teaspoon salt, bring to a boil, cover and simmer for 20 minutes. My mother made her rice a different way but I loved Aunt Merle’s the most.

Over the years, I’ve made a few modifications: I now use jasmine rice and a rice cooker, which makes it perfectly every time. I also top it with kale I sauté in onions and olive oil. And if I’m really feeling over the top, I’ll do a fried egg with a runny yolk as well.

This is my comfort food. It’s one of the few foods I can always imagine eating, no matter what. Especially on those days when I have so much going on and I’m all wound up, all I can think of is a bowl of jasmine rice.

Serve over jasmine rice.