Thoughts about eating well to feed your body and spirit.
I am in a different part of town for an educational conference. I had lunch at a Japanese restaurant where the sushi chefs were prattling to each other in Spanish. This offering was in the waiting area; to whose gods, I wondered?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Last night I went to my neighbors’ “comfort food pot luck.” Comfort food tends to mean for many of us in winter warm, dense, heavy, rich food that is likely to be white, beige, or otherwise pale in color. There is much to be said for the emotional impact of great mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese, especially when it is cold.
As I was deciding what to bring and remembering that last time I went to this pot luck there were three kinds of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and multiple kinds of bread, I thought about what would bring me comfort in that context.
My diet is not subject to any particular label. I mostly do not eat meat or cow dairy–perhaps vegetarian/vegan preferred would be a good label to the extent one would need to give a label (we are so fond of those in this society). I also prefer local and organic food, in that order, when available, and find my health benefits from a fair percentage of my diet being raw, fresh fruit and vegetables.
Based on my assumptions of what others would likely bring, I thought that it would give me great comfort to have something fresh, bright, crunchy, raw, organic, and mostly local to go with mashed potatoes (they were delicious Marlene) and assorted casseroles. I took a look at what was in the kitchen and found I had red cabbage, a couple of apples, an onion, and some carrots from the farmers’ market; organic celery, raisins, ginger, lemon, apple cider vinegar, and white miso from the food coop and the organic grocery store; and mung beans sprouting on the counter.
The red cabbage salad and sprout salad was a hit as a foil for the traditional “comfort food.”
Since you asked, here’s how its made:
Mince some onion and dice a small red cabbage. Splash some apple cider over the onion and cabbage so it can start pickling while you are cutting up the rest of the ingredients.
Dice some carrots and celery and add to the cabbage and onions.
Throw in some raisins.
Mince some ginger and add to vegetables.
Mix a couple of tablespoons of mild white/blonde miso and some Dijon mustard to taste (a darker miso will be too strong) and stir in hot water to thin until the miso-mustard mix is a creamy consistency and stir into the vegetables.
Dice an apple or two and mix in with the other ingredients.
Add some fresh bean sprouts if you have them (I always have sprouts growing except in the hottest weather; a good source for supplies is www.sproutpeople.org; best to add the sprouts while they are still short so they are the same texture and size of the other ingredients in this chopped salad).
Squeeze in some lemon juice to taste (or more vinegar if you don’t have a lemon on hand or want to be completely local). If necessary to get the dressing spread evenly over the vegetables, add a little more water.
Add another apple or additional raisins if you need more sweetness to offset the saltiness of the miso and the astringency of the vinegar and lemon juice.
This salad benefits from sitting for at least a few hours. It can sit overnight without the apples and the sprouts–the miso starts to ferment the cabbage as for sauerkraut, which is nice– but the apples and sprouts will get mushy and are better added at the end.
Enjoy. Play with ingredients and quantities and please comment if you come up with a delightful variation.
Hot water with a wedge of lemon (squeezed); a couple of slices of fresh ginger; one dried chili pepper whole (I still have a bunch from last year’s garden)–or use a dash of cayenne; stevia or agave nectar to taste. Spicy, astringent, and sweet all at the same time. (This also makes delicious cold lemonade in summer).
A couple of other winter hot drink options from Cate Stillman–ayurveda practitioner and educator and certified Anusara yoga instructor: hot water with either a little bit of turmeric or a little cinnamon.
Dear Friends,
Brrr. It’s cold out there. And if it is seeming colder than usual, you are right. There have only been five winters on record with fewer days above 50F in Washington, DC. Perhaps, like me, you have noticed that you are feeling just a tad sensitive or edgy or maybe a little blue. I recognize the symptoms; in my distant past, a therapist suggested that I might have “seasonal affective disorder.” My prescription for myself when winter has me feeling down? Do more yoga, keeping a focused intention on cultivating the light of inner awareness.
The form of meditation I practice is intended to allow the practitioner to rest in the light of inner awareness. One of the aspects of the Anusara principle of “opening to grace” for me is to open to the light in myself and others. On a more physical level, backbends will open up your heart and make room for the light; core work will warm you up by stoking the agni, the inner fire; forward bends will help you go deep inside to find your own light. There is a light-filled practice for every day of the week, every time of day, and every mood you are in.
Avoid the temptation to huddle inside, eating too many carbs and hiding away. When the sidewalks are passable, bundle up and take a long walk. When you come back inside, do a good therapeutic and restorative practice–it’s as good as hot chocolate (and no one said you couldn’t have the hot chocolate, too). Invite friends over for a potluck. Cook bean soups. Have hot cereal for breakfast and perhaps for dinner. Balance the warm food with the freshest of fresh food by growing sprouts on the kitchen counter.
Want to light up your yoga fire, sun, inner light with company? Join me and your friends and neighbors at William Penn House classes on Tuesdays at 6:30. Need a little R&R or found you have tweaked something shoveling or walking on the ice and snow? Drop ins are always welcome at the gentle and therapeutics class at Willow Street, Takoma Park, Saturdays at noon. Give yourself something to look forward to by signing up in advance for the second “Relaxing Into Optimal Alignment with Anusara Restoratives” workshop at Willow Street on Saturday, February 26th.
And plan for Spring with “Yoga for Gardeners,” the weekend of the Spring Equinox–yes, it is only weeks away. As has been my practice in previous years, my profits will go to support the Youth Garden at the National Arboretum.
Looking forward to sharing, expanding, and delighting in the light with you soon.
Peace and light,
Elizabeth
The other night after yoga class, a group of us went out to celebrate a friend’s 39th birthday. During the ambling course of the conversation, I said that I was turning 50 later this year. I added that I would grow my hair another couple of inches longer and lose three pounds, and 50 would be just fine (let’s leave aside for now all the societal conditioning that goes along with feeling that such an age marker wouldn’t feel too old as long as my hair was long and my body at a youthful weight).
“Who goes on a diet to lose three pounds?” asked one of my friends. I find that people sometimes look at me and are shocked that I pay attention to my weight. They have an idea that someone who stays slim is just lucky rather than consistently mindful. My grandmother who was 4’11” in her high-heeled slippers was the one who taught me to be mindful in this way. Once or twice a year, she would moderate her diet to lose the two pounds that crept on after one too many desserts over the course of a few months without any other change in her modest, healthful for those days diet.
Going on a diet to lose three pounds means never having to lose 10 or 20 pounds or more. It means returning to mindfully eating a little extra less for a couple of weeks after a couple of months of having eaten a little more than what is perfectly sustaining rather than having to go through a major lifestyle change. In my middle age, I pay attention to my diet not as much for how I look in my clothes and feel about my body, but more for whether what I am eating is healthy for me and the planet. One of the best and easiest ways to be at an optimal weight, feel healthier, and have less impact on the planet is simply to eat less (though this is a new announcement by the government, any one with even an ounce of common sense knew that, no matter how much exotic, novel, or challenging diets seemed more appealing).
Part of eating the right amount for your ideal fit with your body and its relationship to the planet and society is having food that is not necessary for a healthy body only on special occasions (which is different than rigidly forbidding it to yourself). In reviewing what is sustaining for me and the planet while still enjoying a delicious diet, I periodically take a look at what I am eating and think about what is really fulfilling. One of the things I enjoy, but have known really should be a treat is orange juice (which I stopped drinking on other than an occasional basis several months ago and truly have not missed).
If you are eating multiple servings of vegetables and a piece or two of fruit a day, orange juice processed, packaged, and shipped outside of a grower state provides little more benefit to your diet than does a can of soda. If you kept everything else in your diet consistent and aren’t already eating enough to be gaining weight, eliminating the unnecessary glass of juice would not only diminish your carbon footprint (and if it is not organic, your chemicals into the drinking water footprint as well as your carbon footprint), but you also would be eliminating the number of calories it takes to gain a pound over the course of a month. And if you live in one of those states covered in snow and ice and are yearning to eat something from the land of sunshine, eat an orange or some other tropical fruit–organic if you can get it — and skip the processing, the cooking (pasteurizing), and some of the packaging that goes into it being shipped to your grocery store as juice.
If you are already thinking twice about when and what to acquire (and generally acting on your thinking), this information about “responsible shopping” provides helpful information when you are challenged by those who think it doesn’t matter what one person does. It also provides some useful information that is new or we might not have thought about before.
Given that I do not have an elected representative in Congress (a non-voting one does not really count), it is especially important to me to vote with the dollars that I have.
ps Yes, I know that in terms of being green, the best choice is to live with much less than I do–say, for example, live in just a room instead of a house, but I am not ready to go there.
In classical yoga, maya is the illusion that the tangible world is what is real. Only atman is real; the world we experience through our senses (and our senses them selves) as reality is an illusion. We renounce the world to escape the temptation of being drawn into it as reality. In so doing, though, we ineluctably must come to the conclusion that all that is ill with the world is as much an illusion as that which is tempting. In turning away from the world we would be also turning away from the pain of seeing inequity and suffering and the desire to seek change in the tangible, sense-experienced world.
As I was walking around New York City, ankle-deep in slush and being hyper-stimulated by the lights and the noise and the smells and the bustle and the choices, I found myself thinking about maya and that in its classical sense has two surface temptations for me. The first is the temptation to turn away from the stimulation, to reject consumption of more than needed to exist. In the face of such excessive stimulation, the idea of nothing, of utter simplicity, of quiet seems desirable. If the turning away is another form of seeking pleasure or escaping pain, though, it is still in the trap of maya — the worldly illusion that binds us in the pair of opposites–pleasure and pain. The second temptation, the temptation to withdraw from everything except seeking the light within, is more subtle. If we truly are to turn away from the world of the senses, we turn away from notions of justice and equality and freedom that are based how we live in the material world as much as we turn away from consumption.
The true path of renunciation, of pure meditation, is a rare and beautiful path, but to stay in the world and to withdraw ineffectually in such a way might earn the hackneyed epithet “navel gazing.” My path is not that of the renunciate yogin, nor do I have the fortitude to live a life of Christian poverty, which would reject riches and live for service. Where can we find the support in the yoga path to stay engaged and yet still live mindfully, fostering the expression and recognition of spirit in ourselves and others?
In tantric philosophy, maya is understood somewhat differently than in classical yoga. The maya is not the world itself. When we think that getting and having and avoiding is all that there is and that it is separate from spirit, then our lives are cloaked by maya, and we are ignorant (avidya) of the true bliss of spirit (satcitananda). To know spirit, we must see through maya. To do that requires discrimination (viveka) in what we take into our senses and ethically responsible action in the tangible world to align our lives in a way that expands the opportunity to recognize spirit, which in my mind includes having less material disparity in society, which disparity most assuredly makes the essential truth of blissful consciousness more opaque (due to the play of maya) for both the haves and the have nots. While we make our attempt to live with more discrimination and grace and with less cause of conflict or suffering (doing better some times than others), we still try to recognize and savor the exquisite divine in each sight and taste and sound and creation. How extraordinary always is New York in all its wild manifestation!
1. Melt 1/2 cup organic vegetable shortening.
2. Stir in 1 cup sucanat (evaporated cane syrup).
3. Then stir in equivalent of one egg of prepared egg replacer (potato starch-based) and one tsp vanilla.
4. Combine 1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour, dash salt, one tsp baking powder, and 1/4 cup flax seed meal; stir into shortening/sugar mixture.
5. Mix in 1/2 cup dried, shredded coconut.
6. Stir in 1/2 cup vegan, fair trade chocolate chips or chopped dried fruit. (I have not tried it with fruit, but I am sure it would work. Chopped nuts also would be good, but with all the allergies around, I’ve pretty much stopped bringing nutty things to parties unless I have made non-nut things also.)
7. Chill dough for about 1/2 hour.
8. Put slightly rounded teaspoonfuls of dough with lots of space in between (these spread out a lot) onto very well greased baking sheet. Bake at 350-375 (depending on how hot is your oven and whether it is convection) for 12-15 minutes until bubbling and almost caramelized.
9. After removing from oven, allow to set briefly (3-4 minutes, but not longer or they will stick to pan; if they do stick, put back in heated oven for a couple of minutes). Use a metal, rather than plastic spatula to remove cookies from sheet to help prevent breakage. Finish cooling on wire racks.
These are super crunchy and delicious (due to their high fat and sugar content–just because something is vegan doesn’t mean it is “healthy”), but a little bit more fragile than completely desirable. If anyone has suggestions on how to make less fragile, but still keep the lace quality and be vegan, your sharing would be welcome by all, I am sure. Switching from egg replacer to egg if you are not vegan would likely be the easiest fix. One of these days, when I have the time and inclination, I will try another version and change the quantities to see what happens.
“It will make you both laugh and cry,” said Josh, who is a long-time neighbor and the proprietor of the newly re-opened West End Cinema, which is currently showing The Kings of Pastry. “I don’t think I will be crying just because a sugar sculpture breaks,” I responded with some skepticism. “Let me know afterward,” he said, and there the conversation ended. I needed to get seated, and he needed to help the next movie-goer.
What I found loveliest about the film — besides getting to surrender to the delicious sensation of being completely awed by the extraordinary technique exhibited — was that there was no competition in the sense of there being “winners” or “losers.” All of the finalists — I don’t think that this is a spoiler — could achieve the designation of “master” if they demonstrate their virtuosity as pastry chefs within a short period of time under intense scrutiny.
The movie, in revealing a little of what it can mean to have the talent, passion, and single-mindedness to seek to be a master of a craft, a livelihood, an art, invited me to reflect on when I have been tested and when I have wanted a certain achievement marked by an outer designation. Undergraduate and law school were highly competitive; by being ranked, excellence seemed to be prized not as much for how it would enable the students ultimately to be better able to serve society and themselves upon having developed a certain required level of mastery, but more for creating a ranking within that segment of society. The dance world, for me, also felt strongly competitive. With injuries early on and having developed the “wrong” body, I could not rise to the competition.
The support, encouragement, and mentoring of the pastry chefs in The Kings of Pastry — although clearly only a select few were finalists — highlighted for me what it can mean to strive for excellence without having it be structured by win-lose/pass-fail competition; it only makes the world of pastry better if more of the pastry chefs are true masters. In this regard, watching the movie led me to think about what it was like to work for Anusara yoga teacher certification in contrast to my earlier education. When I was working for my Anusara certification, the standards for achievement of the “goal” were still very high, but it was not about winning/losing or achieving/failing. It was a period of intense study, practice, learning, and humbling experiences. On being certified, I knew that the efforts to be certified were just the beginning. Part of the reason for being so deeply challenged to be certified, to meet the level of initiation (in Sanskrit diksha), was to see if we would continue studying and practicing at that rate out of love and deep commitment. It took going through the process and addressing all the old emotions and patterns of reaction and response that came up in the context of being tested to help me to start fully appreciating the difference between being in a competition and seeking the best we can be for ourselves and for others in our work and study. When I started to have a lived appreciation for the distinction it carried through to all aspects of my relationships in life.
Without answering them, The Kings of Pastry opened for our own contemplation the questions of what does striving for excellence or mastery mean for the one on the path and for those on the path with him or her? How does coming face to face with an obstacle when being tested or finding out that one has or has not received the public recognition impact the rest of one’s life, one’s sense of self-worth, and one’s relationships with family and friends? It was an sweet act of film-making to bring these questions to the viewer’s awareness in a way that is completely engaging and endearing.
Yes, Josh, I got a little teary-eyed towards the end.
This is the second round of fruit ripening on the small tree I brought into the garden this spring. Will these figs ripen enough to be picked before the first frost?