Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Other Vegetables (and the Goddess of Sequencing)
Filed Under Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Leave a Comment
Cooking is not only an exquisite opportunity to notice and appreciate the various characteristics of the elements of our meal and how they react to heat and fat and cooking times and methods, but a wonderful way to appreciate how everything is ordered in time and space and to honor Kali — the Goddess of Sequencing.
Brussels sprouts seem to be fashionable this year. I’ve always liked them. My preferred method is to braise them: saute lightly in olive oil and/or butter in a heavy pot with a lid, splash some dry sherry, wine, or vermouth into the cooking pot and stir until the liquid is absorbed, add some broth or water (not quite to cover) plus salt and herbs of your choice, simmer until the brussel sprouts are tender and the liquid is absorbed.
My friends are gushing about roasted brussels sprouts. I think the tenderizing, fat-adding delight of roasting has made the much maligned brussels sprout more accessible: toss with olive oil, salt, garlic, and herbs such as rosemary and thyme. Roast at 400F until tender and browned (15-20 minutes). Use peanut oil, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce or Braggs amino liquids for an Asian meal. Try safflower oil, turmeric, ground ginger, garlic, and ground coriander seeds to serve with Indian food. Use just butter (or if vegan a light, relatively flavorless oil such as safflower or canola), salt, paprika, and pepper for an Eastern European flavor.
Whenever I roast vegetables, I toss in an extra head of garlic (separated into cloves), and serve some with the vegetables and reserve some for cooking something else with roasted garlic. Include a variety of vegetables. Just remember that different vegetables need different cooking times. To recognize the mysteries of the Goddess of Sequencing in time and space — you have two choices in roasting vegetables. You can cut the vegetables into different sizes (so you would leave brussels sprouts whole, cut winter squash or turnips into cubes a little smaller than the brussels sprouts, and potatoes into wedges or rectangles that are narrower than the brussels sprouts for them all to be golden and tender, but not overcooked at the same time. As an alternative (as we do with sauteing or stir-frying), you can add different vegetables at different times. You might need a combination of both techniques. If you wanted to add mushrooms to the mix, since those would need to be larger than brussels sprouts, you would want to add the mushrooms later lest they get withered — how much later depends on the size of the mushrooms relative to the other vegetables.
Enjoy (and give homage)!
Sunchokes (and Anusara “first principle”) (a bit out of date, but not really)
Filed Under Art and Culture, Asana and Yoga Practice, Community and Family, Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc), Gardening | 1 Comment
I realize that this blog entry was in my drafts page; I never hit the publish button. As I ponder the few intervening weeks of snow (in some ways it feels as if time just stopped, except for the work that piled up and the lengthening of the light of day), I treat this as a reminder to myself to come back to “first principle” to respond with the most light — even in this unusually harsh winter:
On my way to Friends Meeting yesterday, I stopped at the Dupont Circle Fresh Farm Market yesterday to buy whatever was fresh. When I got in line with a daikon radish, a bunch of turnips, and a couple of leeks, I noticed the way the woman in front of me in line was holding her selection: sunchokes. Her hands were held as if she had just received prasad — the offering sometimes made after a puja so that the fruits of worship may actually be tasted and injested, incorporated with our senses and our whole bodies into our being. “Your hands and those sunchokes are so beautiful,” I said, “may I take a picture and use it for my blog?” “Sure,” she replied, “and shifted her hands a little so that it would be easier for me to frame the picture.” We talked while we waited in line about potential ways to cook sunchokes and how happy we were that the farmers (these particular farmers’ must be incredibly good at working with cold frames) were out all year.
Seeing this offering of the earth itself, the farmers who tended the earth and grew the vegetables, the workers who made and repaired the vehicles that enabled the food to be brought into the city, the city and neighborhood for allowing the market to block off a street, the shoppers for supporting it, brought me back to my contemplations this week of what “first principle” means to me. I mentioned in an earlier post that my focus for winter classes would be Anusara sequencing principles. No matter what else we are doing or focusing on, it always starts with “first principle.” The “first principle” is what we call in Anusara “opening to grace.” For me, a large part of “opening to grace” is a recognition that all the nourishment we receive is a gift. When we practice such a recognition, then we practice receptivity, openness, gratitude, courtesy, respect, delicacy, and reciprocal desire to serve and make offering. How could one mindfully receive nourishment such as this fresh, beautiful food on a bitterly cold winter day, and not want to celebrate it by giving thanks, nurturing the earth, supporting the farmers and the market, learning how to prepare it as tasty and healthful as possible, and share it and other things with those around us?
A Moment of Insight (and suddha vidya)
Filed Under Art and Culture, Community and Family, Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc), Gardening, Meditation | Leave a Comment
A rather conservative co-worker, who was one of the people who would have to go grocery shopping last night lest the family be without perishable food for a few days, was talking to me about the impending snowstorm (including me advising him of the one forecast for next Tuesday/Wednesday). “It shows,” he said, “how easily our infrastructure and food supply can be disrupted.” I gave it a little pause, and then replied, “this is why I talk about gardening in our own yards and switching away from agribusiness to a more sustainable and self-sustaining way of living and seek to shift myself, though it is difficult.” He said, “hmmm,” letting the idea stick in his mind, but not wanting to carry the discussion further. I know him well enough to have dropped it for the time, but also know he will think about it and perhaps over the years, for his beloved daughters or out of perceived necessity, start making small shifts.
In yoga practice, the concept of suddha vidya — illuminative wisdom — is both revealed and practiced. When we start practicing or even before, we may have occasional and early insights into fundamental truths of being, but without steady practice and contemplation they will be fleeting and not shift our way of living. If we practice and study continuously, though, our insight will become steadier, more consistent, and will start to illuminate all states of our being on and off the mat. The more I practice, the more it is illuminated for me the connection of all beings and my need to live in a way that is more open, tolerant, loving, and aligned with the complex web of our interconnection. My co-worker’s insight might not have been “yoga,” but it was indeed a moment of illuminative wisdom in its recognition of a misalignment of society that tears at the fabric of our being.
The Exquisiteness of Order (Winter Theme)
Filed Under Asana and Yoga Practice, Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc), Gardening | Leave a Comment
By order, I mean how things are arranged in space or time. Even chaos theory presumes order in that sense. On and off the mat, there is a certain order to things that is optimal. We do not plant seeds and then till the soil. Or think of the difference between peeling and chopping vegetables and then cooking them or cooking them and then peeling and chopping them. One or the other is not necessarily wrong if you do not have a specific dish in mind, but which you choose will dictate the results. Once you have gotten started in the sequence, though, the path shifts and is partly set. To reach an exquisite rather than a disgusting result, the next steps are ordered by the initial choice.
If only one musician is playing a single note, then there is no possibility of discordance. Add more musicians and more notes and who plays what notes when can mean cacophony, a catchy tune, or an extraordinary and ecstatic work of art. None of us are alone and none of us are playing just a single note, so in the great fabric of our being, it is best to understand how to make music.
Sequencing on the mat is more subtle than what poses should be done in what order in a particular practice to emphasize backbends v. forward bends and twists to be able to do the strongest poses with the least possibility of injury, as important as that is. The order in which we apply the Anusara principles not only aligns the physical body, but brings symmetry to the physical and energetic bodies, helping us to feel more in harmony in everything we do on and off the mat. I am, in this, a decent musician and not Bach, but the more I pay attention to the optimal sequence of things (keeping in mind that over most things we have no control as to when, whether, and how they happen) and the more I learn and appreciate the exquisiteness of order, the more I feel, understand, and experience the subtleties and joys of harmony.
Sprouts, Orchids, and Arctic Winds
Filed Under Art and Culture, Food for the Body, Gardening | Leave a Comment
This morning I misted the orchids. None are blooming right now, but an orange catteleya I received as a gift several years ago is budding, as is my favorite epidendrum, which offers up a host of delicate, greenish, spidery blooms every February. It brightens my day to spend a little time tending the house plants when it is most wintry outside.
I rinsed sprouts. I have both bean sprouts and a salad mixture going. I started new batches of sprouts as soon as I returned from NYC. I was grateful for the offerings at the grocery store, but pine for at least a little something truly fresh. I’d had a little chard, parsley, and chives that made it through the snow storm. Much to my surprise, I even managed to salvage enough from the garden to include in an omelet after the ice storm the other morning, but the day-time subfreezing temperatures and icy winds have finished off the outdoor garden until March. I think I am going to get some burlap and start some micro-greens in addition to salad and bean sprouts.
Happy New Year (and vegan Hoppin’ John variant)
Filed Under Art and Culture, Community and Family, Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Leave a Comment
Having grown up in the New York metropolitan area without much in the way of traditions of any kind, I was not familiar with Hoppin’ John. I am fairly certain that the first time I heard of it was from a college friend whose family has been in South Carolina since before the Revolution. As it is not part of my tradition, I do not feel bound to any particular recipe (I am sure it is sacrilege in some circles to leave out the ham/bacon) or to eating it at any particular time of day (e.g., immediately after the clock strikes 12 midnight). It would not be Hoppin’ John, though, if I did not know its tradition and know where I was deviating from tradition. (Though this would entail a much longer blog than is within my time frame today, this balance of freedom from tradition and needing to know and honor tradition is very much an issue for the Western yoga practitioner.)
1. Soak a cup of dried black-eyed peas for at least several hours or overnight.
2. Dice one small onion or 1/2 large onion (about a cup), a few celery stalks, including the leaves, and mince a couple of cloves of garlic.
3. Heat a few tablespoons of a flavorless oil (peanut, corn, or safflower) in a pressure cooker (my preferred method for saving energy and time) or a stock/stew pot.
4. Saute seasoning vegetables along with a few hot peppers until onion is translucent. I used the last habanero from my harvest and so left it whole. You can use fresh or dried chilis in an amount to your taste/tolerance for spiciness.
5. Stir in a cup of brown rice until rice is coated with oil.
6. Pour in 1/4-1/2 cup of white wine and stir until absorbed (as if making risotto). [You could use stock instead. If you are using white rice, skip this step, which serves to partially cook the brown rice, so that it will take the same amount of time as the black-eyed peas.]
7. Crumble in some dried thyme (preferably from your own garden) and a bay leaf or two.
8. Drain and rinse the soaked black-eyed peas and stir into the cooking pot until all ingredients are combined.
9. Add one 28 ounce can of diced tomatoes and 2 1/2 – 3 cups of vegetable stock or water. How much liquid depends on (a) whether you want a soupy consistency or one more like pilaf or risotto; (b) how liquid are the tomatoes; (c) whether you are using a pressure cooker (less liquid needed) or cooking in a pot.
10. If using a pressure cooker, cover and bring to full pressure, then lower heat and cook at full pressure for 28 minutes. Allow natural pressure release (about 15-20 minutes additional). If cooking in a regular pot, bring to a boil, stir, then lower heat and cook for an hour or more until rice and peas are tender, stirring occasionally.
11. While rice and peas are cooking, mince a few cloves of garlic.
12. Rinse and chop several handfuls of greens (collard or curly kale are best; don’t use spinach or chard, they are too tender). Heat oil and garlic together. When garlic start sizzle, add damp greens and saute until greens are wilted and dry.
13. When rice and peas have finished cooking, stir in sauteed greens and bring back up to full heat. Adjust seasonings, adding more salt and your favorite hot sauce to taste (or allow guests to add their own hot sauce at the table).
I don’t know whether having eaten this will bring me luck and prosperity, but I’ve started the year with lots of vitamins, minerals, fiber, flavor, and cooking, which for me means health, love, technique, tradition, flexibility, and joy! Try this, make your own, read all about Hoppin’ John, or call a friend from the South who must eat Hoppin’ John on the New Year and learn about the tradition and what it means.
Celebration and Loss (last of the arugula)
Filed Under Food for the Body, Gardening | Leave a Comment
As you can see from the photo, this tender arugula was not likely to make it through the night (temperatures forecast to be in the mid-20s). It is a cause for great celebration that it made it through last weekend’s snow storm, several nights below freezing, and provided a little spice to my salads for a couple of months. It lasts this long because I over plant, first eat the greens as I thin them, then pick them by the leaf rather than by the root to encourage the plants to grow more vigorously, and finally start pulling them up by the handful when the danger of hard frost calls for the inevitable demise. Tonight, I cut everything in the pot down to about a 1/2 inch. It is possible, though not likely based on the current forecast of a cooler than normal winter, that if we got a couple of warm weeks in late January or early February that it would come back.
I am celebrating what I have grown in this tiny space and the exquisite delight of eating greens from right outside my door this late into the year. I am sad that the outdoor gardening season is just about over; I will miss it. If I had more space or a firmer intention (maybe the latter will come in another year or two), I could build a cold frame or go for plastic tunnels. In my little micro-climate, that would probably get me through the winter. I rather like, though, a space of time with no obligation to the outdoor garden. A time to dream rather than work. I know what a luxury it is to be able to rest in such a way and still have bountiful food.
Vegan Peanut Butter Wheatgerm Cookies
Filed Under Food for the Body | Leave a Comment
These cookies are loosely inspired by the peanut butter cookies from the Joy of Cooking because those were my first peanut butter cookies.
1. Soften a half cup of vegetable shortening (preferably organic), then cream with 1/4-1/2 cup of sucanat (sweeten to taste). Beat in 1/2 cup agave nectar or maple syrup. Add in equivalent of one egg of either “egg replacer” or flax seed emulsified with water. Cream in peanut butter (make sure the peanut butter is organic; creamy works best in this recipe as they are crumbly cookies), a dash of salt, and a 1/2 tsp of baking soda.
2. Mix together 1/2 cup whole wheat flour and 1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour. Then mix the combined flours into the wet ingredients until well combined.
3. Blend in 1/2 cup of toasted wheat germ (flax seed meal or a combination also would work).
4. Chill the dough for at least 1/2 hour for best results. Lightly grease a cookie sheet while the dough is chilling. Shape the dough into walnut sized balls (or make them smaller, but shorten the cooking time). Make an indentation with your thumb to flatten slightly. The dough will rise and the thumbprint will disappear during the baking process, leaving a smooth, round pillow of a cookie.
5. Depending on your cookware and whether you have convection (needs lower temperature) or conventional oven, bake at 335F-375F. Starting from a cool oven (many baked goods are fine without the oven preheating; to save energy, try to start baking with something that doesn’t mind starting in a cool oven and then baking several items at the same time to take advantage of the already heated oven), bake for 15-20 minutes, depending on whether the oven was hot already, until golden.
6. THIS IS IMPORTANT: these cookies crumble very easily when first taken out of the oven. Leave them to cool for at least 15 minutes on the cookie sheet before transferring directly to a plate.
Variations: any nut or seed butter. Hemp would be particularly good, as would almond.
Spirituality and Politics Do Mix (but maybe not at the Thanksgiving meal)
Filed Under Art and Culture, Community and Family, Food for the Body, Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Leave a Comment
Yesterday I received a rather negative email in response to my posting a suggestion on a list serve connected to a religious organization that people write to their elected officials about the health care bill pending in the Senate. I sent the email because my contribution to this group is to serve as the designated liaison between a lobbying group that was established by the religious organization and the religious organization. Once of month or so, I highlight issues that are the focus of the lobbying groups email campaigns. The email took me to task for thinking that politics has any place in connection with spiritual practice and therefore the on-line discussion should never be about politics. The person assured me that our political views were different, although I did not actually suggest what people should write; I only said that they should write. I have been pondering this deeply as it is a topic I have thought about, taught about, and wrestled with deeply over the years, especially during the Presidential elections.
As one who believes that body, mind, and community are inseparable from spirit, I am unable to separate political action from spiritual action. I believe that I have a duty to be knowledgeable about the issues challenging society as a whole, to take action within the framework of society to seek the embodiment of my spiritual beliefs (grossly oversimplified, that the rules, commitments, and support networks of society should recognize the light of all beings — human and not — and foster the seeking of that light by all), and to challenge the very framework of the discussion and rules when they obscure the light and its recognition.
One of the reasons for discussion is to explore, to learn, to be challenged, to expand both knowledge and understanding. That can be a hard process. I certainly do not expect people to agree with each other at all times, but that is not the point of discussion. While I think this sort of discussion perfectly appropriate in the context of a spiritual discussion, it might be less welcome where what is being sought is an immediate sense of peace and harmony in the connection of a particular practice. For example, if it is known that family and friends have strong disagreements about “political” issues, it might be disagreeable for digestion and the day to bring up the issues at the Thanksgiving dinner table.
A Mighty Fine Pumpkin
Filed Under Art and Culture, Community and Family, Food for the Body, Gardening | Leave a Comment
