Forest Lunch

K-PAX was a film screened in 2001, starring Kevin Spacey, about a psychiatric patient, Robert Porter, who claimed to be from a planet K-PAX. While being treated for delusions in the Psychiatric Institute of Manhattan, he quickly became the leader of other patients who, without exception, found his extra-terrestrial background believable and inspirational. In fact, even the doctor who analysed him, Dr. Mark Powell, was at times baffled by his proficiency in astronomy, physics and advanced psychology. In spite of the doctor – patient relationship, he took seriously Robert’s advice to evolve and reconciled with his estranged son. After all, according to a “k-paxian” report, our universe is known for repeating its mistakes again and again, forever.

Whether the film was a sincere portrayal of the grey area between a mental illness and unknown, supernatural aspiration, is irrelevant here. I’m mentioning it because my today’s recipe is called “K-PAX soup”! My beloved bhakti-yoga mentor – my Gurudev – gave it to me years before I knew about the film. It was his favourite lunch item for awhile. He passed away in 2006 and I never had a chance to ask why he named the soup as such. He was an eccentric personality with an exceptional intelligence and a quirky sense of humour. I suspect the name was related to the origin of the recipe: a person he might’ve jokingly likened to a “k-paxian”.

In the secular society it’s acceptable to designate oneself according to the family line and relationships, race, gender, income status, education, occupation, moral, religious or political standing, and talent etc. We usually bypass quickly the question “who are you?” by offering our name and field of work. Everyone has a shortcut to pin oneself in a position one wants to be associated with and, if the situation allows, we are thrilled to narrate the longer version of our achievements and personality traits.

From the point of view of spiritual reality all such distinctions are, however, alien identities even though they may be within commonly admissible behavioral boundaries. Vedanta-sutra, the essence of knowledge compiled by Srila Vyasadev thousands of years ago, starts by an aphorism athato brahma jijnansa: the human form of life is meant for inquiring about the spiritual nature; the substance of all forms and definitions. To someone freed from physical, mental and intellectual coverings, we likely look as “k-paxian” with our illusory selfhood as the poor Robert Porter in the film.

Whatever the case, this soup is very good! There are only a few, selected spices that compliment each others. It depends on the complexity of the curry powder how much taste it attributes. I’m using a home-made mixture of roasted coriander, mustard, fenugreek, jeera, urad dal, black peppercorn, red chili, curry leaves and turmeric, but you can substitute it with a simple a combination of (roasted) jeera, fennel, coriander, red chili and turmeric. Or, use a store bought curry powder.

The soup is best served with bread or a piece of pie. We had an eggplant tart on our forest lunch.

Artisan pie

Artisan pie is a fascinating way to describe a regular pastry with left-over vegetables, fresh cheese and what not. It requires some manual labour and dexterity, and provides an entertaining break in baking routines. The variable colours, shapes and sizes of vegetables fuel imagination.

Cooking is an act of assistance. A perfect cook is a servant who enables a loving dialogue between the given ingredients for the pleasure of God.

Sometimes I sketch quick studies, either mental or physical, of cooking ingredients in order to better understand their inherent nature. Universal harmony manifests when a form reciprocates with and enhances a compatible quality. For example, when water caches wetness or fire contains hotness, there is a perfect, balanced relationship.

As a result of happy baking, a warm afternoon light may sweep the table with autumn colours, even in May.

Thank you.

Sabudana – Seasoned Tapioca

A failure contributes to learning. It is an impetus for analysing a mistake, making a change and trying again. If you wish to master the trial and error method of acquiring knowledge, start with a bag of tapioca pearls and attempt to achieve a dry, light and fluffy side dish. This kind of problem solving is known as guess and check in elementary algebra.

Needless to say how many times I’ve ended up with slimy, sticky porridge before getting the recipe right. It was a triumph when my husband commented a few days ago, “It is delicious”. Until then, he loathed tapioca.

In India, tapioca is called sabu or sabudana. To add to the confusion, sago, which comes from another plant (Metroxylon) and cooks differently, goes by the same name. Tapioca and sago look alike. They are usually interchangable ingredients. I’ve seen countless recipes confusing them.

Tapioca is a starch extracted from cassava (Manihot esculenta). It is used worldwide as a thickening agent. It is gluten-free and low protein.

We use sabudana on Ekadasi and other days of fasting from grains. However, by adding green peas, fried carrot sticks, cauliflower bites, herbs and nuts, it turns into a colourful side dish at any meal.

The trick of preparing sabudana is to rinse tapioca well with cold water. It doesn’t have to soak. Rinsing will give it enough moisture to double or triple in size. Before cooking, it has to drain and dry. To mix it with roasted coconut and peanut powder before adding it to the pot, will aid the pearls to remain separate. Once in the pot, it doesn’t require cooking. It steams to perfection on the top of vegetables within a couple of minutes. If it comes in contact with too high heat, hot ghee or oil it will immediately turn into a sticky mass. Therefore, special attention is required when adding it to the pot.

Thank you.

Eggplant Frenzy!

Fasting amplifies personal valuation of food. I did a liquid, raw food experiment in January. It was great in the beginning. After two weeks it felt unnatural.

Although I adore berry and fruit smoothies, and have kept the habit of drinking them for breakfast, I ran into trouble with vegetable ones. The powerful, mechanical process of blending carrots, beets, broccoli or other veggies seemed to alter their constitution and violate the natural order of human diet. Soon I wasn’t able to swallow them, even when they tasted pleasant and vital. The attempt turned into a psychological warfare. My need for texture became overbearing. I wanted to bite and chew. And to taste the subtle transformation vegetables go though in the process of cooking; whether steamed, braised, fried or roasted.

What started as an innocent contemplation of eggplant, turned into an obsession! I’ve never had a favourite vegetable, and even if I had, it wasn’t eggplant. It can offer a dreadful culinary disappointment if not well prepared: some of you may have gagged when a slimy, undefined lump of eggplant has clung on the throat. I have. But now, gone are the days I could only enjoy crisp, fried eggplants. For the past month I’ve cooked them in large quantities and ways. There isn’t a dish I dislike.

For the simple reason of being most photogenic, I’m sharing an easy recipe of oven roasted eggplants. By now you must’ve noticed I roast everything, ad nauseam! Gradually I will post recipes of other cooking methods, too. I promise, ok?

Serve with airy, light potato mash garnished with fried chili and ginger in ghee for your ultimate satisfaction.

Crown your lunch with fresh lettuce, lime and herbs! Bon appetite!

Thank you.

A Quick Snack

What situation inspires you the most in the kitchen?  It is when you have rested well and planned a menu in advance? Is it when you scurry home with a shopping bag full of exciting goodies? Is it when cooking for guests makes you drool in anticipation of what you are going to indulge them with? Think about it. In the meanwhile, let me tell you what gives me a kick.

It has happened hundreds of times. As soon as I enter home, puff, my husband appears on the corridor. He isn’t, or hasn’t been, starving.  It is a fact because I’ve prepared him a meal to enjoy while I was out. Yet, his first words are “I’m hungry.” They are spoken softly and come with a moist puppy look. All I’m thinking is “let me sit down for a moment!”  My feet are killing me.

I protest for a few minutes, take another look at the endearing orphan face he has become an expert in putting up and say “ok, I’ll fix something”. I take a shower to dust off the mental reluctance, dress clean, go to the kitchen and see that the light is about the most adventurous item in the fridge.  What in the Earth I’m going to cook with nothing?! Then it hits me: this is my favourite situation in the kitchen!

The feet maybe tired, but my brain is ticking. Ideas are shooting one after another. The breathing stabilizes and the heart opens up. A shade of red appears on the cheeks. Suddenly an eggplant, 3 tomatoes, a drop of olive oil, a sprinkle of yoghurt and a pack of flour are full of possibilities. Should I grill the eggplant? Should I braise it in tomato sauce? Should I make raita or salad? What about chapatis or puris? Within a nanosecond I’ve sieved through tens of options, weighted factors and made a choice.

A quick pie it is. It is time to improvise.

I’ve never understood the fuss about making pies. I stopped reading recipes when the alchemy involved caused me nightmares. The pie-neers must be the most uptight punch of bakers.  Relax! Pie is just a crust with a topping of your choice.

I like it rough. Grains are something to be chewed and crunched. You must taste the rain, the sun and the wind they’ve been exposed to when growing up. Their structure must remind of the soil and the sand; the intensity of the ground they have reached out from. Unrefined flour has these attributes. It is flavoursome and rooting. White flour sets you out of orbit. It has been robbed off anything but the element of air.

The recipe I’m sharing is flexible for any kind of modification. It is a no-sweat snack with whatever grains, oils, herbs or vegetables you have available. You can add yellow cheese or feta to it, if you want it richer.

Happy improvising!

THE CRUST

3 dl wholegrain spelt
2 dl rolled oats
2 ts linseeds (or sesame)
A pinch of baking powder
A good sprinkle of olive oil (1/2 dl maybe?)
1 ts salt
About 1 dl cold water

Mix grains, baking powder,seeds and salt
Rub in olive oil
Add enough water to make a firm ball out of the dough
Take two baking sheets
Place the dough between them (may need to sprinkle some flour)
Roll out as thin as you can

TOPPING

Eggplant, sliced thin
3 tomatoes, slices thin
Black pepper
Hing
Cayenne
Salt
Herbs (I used oregano, rosemary and thyme)

Use your creativity to top the crust. Eggplants are best when nicely roasted and crispy, so try to place them on a single layer. You don’t want them to be wet and mushy. Sprinkle liberally with the spices and herbs. Bake in 225 C for about 20 minutes or until it looks wonderful. After taking out of the oven, give it a whip of olive oil and a sprinkle of plain yoghurt. It’s perfect!