Peach Pie & Giveaway

My aunt, who is in her seventies now, did a long career in Helsinki University. Besides teaching Family and Consumer Sciences, she wrote and co-authored twenty cookbooks.

As a kid, I admired her unconditionally! Not because of her academic achievements, but because she came with open arms and connected with a shy girl like me. My brother was her Godson; I envied him for that! Although I’ve since learnt that my brother’s merits are due to his own good nature, I still dote on my aunt.

When Pure Vegetarian came out, I handed her a copy, “Look aunty what I did,” feeling like a kindergartener who gives an object made of empty paper rolls to a renowned sculptor! I was nervous knowing she would examine it as a professional.

She called me five days later to offer feedback. By browsing through the recipes she had noted that she isn’t the target reader because her dietary habits are settled – she wouldn’t use Indian ingredients or learn new cooking methods, like tempering spices. Nonetheless, she appreciated the clarity of the recipes and found the instructions articulate. She enjoyed exploring details about hing, tej patta, bitter melon and other items that are foreign to her, listed in the end of the book.

When I dedicated to bhakti-yoga in my late teens, many of my relatives were embarrassed and cut contact with me, but my aunt remained broadminded. Therefore, she wasn’t surprised that I approach cooking as meditation in the book. She nailed my purpose of writing Pure Vegetarian by saying that even before she read the non-recipe content she saw that the photographs respect the elements and ingredients I work with. She found the images delicate, telling a story about commitment to spirituality, and concluded, “I will be proud to show your book to all of my colleagues.”

I admit, I read the book again after hanging up the telephone. Are authors allowed to do that? Is it a shameful confession? My aunt claimed she never opened any of her books after publishing them. I’ve rendered aloud mine at least 20 times!

Pure Vegetarian is imperfect – or, impure – in many ways, like I am. Trust me, I’ve beaten myself for every sentence I could’ve written more genuinely, every recipe I could’ve tested again, and every picture I could’ve put more effort into. However, the book inspires me. It reminds me, and hopefully everyone who reads it, of different ways to associate with and around food. Isn’t it true that you and I are ultimately looking for the sustenance of the soul that comes from connecting to the divine nature – our source, and the source of bread and butter – through consciousness? Nutrition, as metabolic and physiological support, doesn’t satisfy the hunger for fulfilment; matter alone will always be inadequate for us, spiritual beings.

Think of Pure Vegetarian as a rest stop on the path of elevation all humans travel from inside out – instead of outside in – searching for lasting happiness and love. Press your breaks and sit down with me! Let’s dive into the essence of food and the potential of cooking, while I’ll serve you rice, dal, vegetables, salads, savories, sauces, sweets and beverages.

Tell me who has encouraged you recently in your life under this post to enter Pure Vegetarian giveaway (or write anything else). I’ll randomly draw a name from a hat on November 15, announce it on the blog, and ship a copy of Pure Vegetarian to the winner – hopefully you – anywhere in the world! Meanwhile, enjoy the peach pie; the recipe is from the book.

PEACH PIE

Step I

63 ml (1/4 Cup) wholegrain spelt flour

250 ml (1 Cup) all purpose spelt flour

1 Tbsp sugar

½ tsp sea salt

120 g (1/4 lb) cold unsalted butter

63 ml (1/4 Cup) ice cold water or as needed 

Step II

1 ½ kg (3 1/2 lb) peaches

3 liters (12 Cups) boiling water for scalding 

Step III

2 Tbsp lemon juice

188 ml (¾ Cup) sugar

¼ tsp cinnamon powder

A pinch of nutmeg powder

A pinch of salt

3 Tbsp corn starch

Step IV

Milk, yogurt, cream or water for brushing

Sugar for sprinkling on the top

Make the dough by mixing the flours, sugar and salt in a bowl. Cut the butter into small cubes and fork it into the flour until it resembles a coarse crumble with visible (pea-size) pearls of butter. Add the water gradually while pulling the dough into a rough ball with a spatula. Adjust the amount of water, depending on the quality of flour.

Divide the dough into two parts and wrap a plastic film around each one. Flatten them slightly and place in the refrigerator to rest for at least 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, wash the peaches. Cut a shallow cross on the top of them. Plunge them in a pot of boiling water for a minute. Drain and rinse them with cold water. Slip the skins off with the help of a paring knife. Pit and slice them. Set aside.

Preheat the oven at 200 C (392 F).

Take one portion of the dough. Roll it into a thin round between two baking sheets sprinkled with flour. It should cover the bottom and sides of a 25 to 28 cm (10” – 12”) pie form. Remove the top sheet and transfer the crust into the form by flipping it over with the help of the bottom sheet. Remove the second paper, too. Trim the edges. Put it back to the refrigerator.

Unwrap the other portion of dough and roll it, similarly, into a thin disk. Use a cookie cutter to cut small hearts out of it. Alternatively, you may use it as such (pierced with a knife), or make a lattice top for the pie.

Combine the peaches, lemon juice, sugar, spices, salt and corn starch. Take out the pie form and pour the filling in it. Cover with the hearts and brush with milk or water. Sprinkle it with sugar and bake on the bottom third of the oven for about 50 minutes. If the edges are becoming too dark, cover them with a piece of foil, wet baking sheet.

Serve hot or cold. The filling settles as it cools down.

Thank you.

Berry Pie

In order to cut and serve a wet pie neatly, bake it in a shallow dish. Learn from my mistakes and don’t use a tall spring form – it’s a bad, bad idea! When lifting the side piece up, I pierced the crust and trickled the juices; when removing the bottom part, I tore off the entire base of the pie. What a mess! Maroon berry compote splattered around the kitchen and my dress.

Luckily I had photographed the pie when it was still hot and intact. These pictures would give me a narrative license to create a visual illusion and you would never have to know about the mishap! Or, so I thought before realizing I had accidentally – and very permanently – deleted the pictures from the camera. All of them.

I was unfocused. It was a hot day: I wanted to finish baking and photographing as soon as possible. I sweated, had heartburn and a headache. Funny, when the mind becomes distracted it storms all over the place although it should pause and re-evaluate. But, in the heat of the moment, it is too engrossed and ignores the little cues that forecast trouble. How many times have you neglected the flash of premonition that strikes the thought process just seconds before cutting a finger or dropping a glass? Often only a shock will halt a passionate mind. Breaking the pie and loosing the pictures did it for me.

Instead of baking and photographing again, I decided to deal with the mind. Interestingly, when it was calm, the failure no longer bothered me and I could happily share the crumbles with my husband. It seemed like a natural thing to do, and reminded me that cooking and eating are irreplaceable mediums of affection. The rest – in what form the recipes are presented in social media and how artful the images are – is less important.

Thank you.

garden spirit

Those who garden here know the sub-arctic weather remains unstable until the second week of June. At one moment the sky is clear and the temperature may climb up to thirty Celsius (86 F). Then, all of a sudden, colors become saturated and air cools down to its dew point; next, frozen crystals, as small as marbles and large as tennis balls, beat the ground. It makes the summer season short and horticulture a challenge. Nonetheless, urban farming is popular in Helsinki.

The city provides about fifty areas with thousands of land parcels; sometimes they have a small pavilion or cottage built in. Additionally, environmental organizations, residential associations and housing cooperatives offer land for community gardening. This year I rented half an acre lot only three minutes bike ride from our home.

After a month of shovelling, raking and uprooting undesirable invaders, I’ve grown to appreciate soil as a good teacher. It is demanding but, also, rewarding. I have taken a special interest in the resilience of weeds. Judging by their success to compete with pampered vegetable seedlings, they are far from being inferior. The idea of a plant as a nuisance reflects human purpose and bias; in nature’s scheme, wild and feral species may also serve a useful function. Many of them have medicinal value. Their adaptability to diverse and adverse circumstances is admirable. They reproduce profusely and may bear quantities of seeds that travel distances by the means of feathery parachutes, or attaching themselves into clothing or animal fur by tiny hooks, burs and cleavers. They may also stay dormant for years until they find a favorable condition to grow. Many multiply from broken bits of stem or root; even after drying up, they may regenerate. If left unchecked, they will dominate the environment, and rob water and nutrients from crop plants.

Horsetail which grows abundantly in my garden is an old remedy for liver and urinary disorders; it contains large amounts of silicon, tannin and potassium. The roots have a nutty flavor but, oh, they are so persistent and long that you never get them entirely out! The moment you look elsewhere, they have already shot a new sprout.

Dandelions are known for their propensity to purify blood and reduce fever. They are rich in vitamin C and A, calcium, iron and minerals. To salads, the leaves add a strong flavor. You can also make fritters (pakora) by coating the flowers with a spicy batter!

Nettle is my favorite ferine by far. Although it has not (yet!) pushed into my garden, it has occupied my neighbor’s compost, and provided us many mouth-watering meals! Use it like spinach.

For a reason, yoga philosophy compares unfavorable qualities to weeds. The heart is the seat of consciousness and sacred matters. As soon as it fills with ulterior motives, the natural upliftment of spirit is hindered. Therefore, sad-vargah or the six enemies of the mind – lust, greed, anger, envy, fear and delusion – are to be nipped at the earliest stage. They are interrelated and arise from a contact with lower modes of nature – passion and ignorance – through contemplation and activities, and entangle the soul in the intricacies of karma and the cycle of birth and death, samsara, making us both, disinterested and indifferent to enlightenment.

When the seed leaves are young, it is difficult to tell if a plant is genuine or spurious. You have to let it grow and exhibit clear marks of botanic classification before uprooting it. Sometimes you have to dig very deep in order to track the starting point; many times it is impossible to find the origin. You can't cheat by pinching the foliage off and leaving the underground core untouched because, sooner or later, it will develop a new stem and leaves. In fact, the base problem becomes even more aggressive and arrogant, stealing nutrients and space from legitimate creepers. Weeds take away and turn against the real interest of the soul, although they may play a productive role in pursuing materialistic values in their natural habitat.

Working in the field is heavy. Having done non-physical activities for the past year and a half, I welcome muscle pain and exhaustion. It triggers solid sleep and healthy appetite. Contrary to my assumption, it has made me eat lighter and less. I crave for fruits, juices and salads; rice, dal and vegetable dishes appear too sumptuous. One meal a day seems enough. In the afternoon I may roll parathas or make other pastries.

This spontaneous recipe for vegetable tarts expresses the garden spirit. You can make the crusts beforehand and top them just before serving. Use any vegetables available.

Thank you.

Pancakes

Do you prefer a sweet or savory breakfast?

Although I’m able to devour a mountain of desserts in the afternoon – four o’clock marking the zenith of the craving – my first meal of the day must be salty: khichdi, uppma, or rice, dal and vegetables. We like hearty breakfasts in our household. A lighter version could consist of a soup or warm salad with a saline pie, chapati or paratha. Sometimes I make potato filled dosa (rice and dal crepes) with coconut chutney or idli (steamed rice and dal cakes), although, idli must always be escorted by a bowl of rasam or sambar (toor-dal broth). Dunking these little white sponges into feisty liquid is a sheer joy and, in my opinion, a proper way to start a day!

The exception that proves the rule is that we had a sweet breakfast today: pancakes, strained yogurt, berries and honey. And, we survived! However, I was tempted to grill zucchini slices and serve the pancakes with herbed yogurt instead of berries and honey.

The pancakes recoup a recipe (chocolate roulade) I had planned for the blog. While dumping the crumbs in the recycling pin yesterday, I realized, it would need some product development. It’s yet to be seen if an eggless cake bent into a roll without breaking. Have any of you done it successfully? Tips are welcomed!

Thank you.

Potato Swirls

”Indian Halloween” headed an invitation to a Diwali celebration I saw – and smiled at – a couple of days ago on Facebook. It sounded like a hybrid of the Festival of Light and All Saints ’ Day! These two holidays intersect on the Vedic lunar calendar and the Western almanac this year.

A couple of minutes ago, I googled “Halloween” in order to understand what the tradition is about. When I was seventeen, I spent a school-year in America as an exchange student and, still, remember the cat outfit I dressed up for Halloween. My older sister, Kim, in the family I stayed at was a cowboy. She took me to a reception at her workplace and I assumed Halloween was an annual costume party. I wondered about the lanterns, skulls and scarecrows but don’t recall anyone explaining them to me. Due to commercialism, Halloween has since been adapted in Finland, too.

Although there are similarities, Diwali and Halloween are visibly different traditions. The former is about awakening the inner knowledge. It’s about contemplating, growing and revealing the pure and eternal beyond the physical, whereas the latter is about associating with the dead: the good, bad and evil. All Hallows’ Eve is observed in the Christian community as a reminder of our mortality and to honor and, in some cases, fear those who have passed away. The custom of dressing in disguise was there, initially, to hide from the vengeance of the spirits. Of course, both, Diwali and Halloween are mostly taken today as social events rather than occasions of spiritual or religious importance.

In one sense, yogic lifestyle is a year around Diwali because it’s anchored in the cognition, consciousness and activities of devotional nature. The meditation I wake up for every morning is like igniting a ghee-lamp to dispel ignorance and apathy.

We had a snack of aloo patras yesterday. They are potato filled whirls that are usually deep-fried. I made the dough slightly fattier and baked them in the oven instead. I’m not sure about the origin of the recipe. It seems to me, like the combination of Diwali and Halloween, a crossbreed of two different worlds.

Aloo patras must be served with a chutney. They set a canvas on which the flavors of chutney are painted. A recipe for the date and tamarind chutney will be in the book.

Pardon the ugly vinyl glove in my right hand. It looks like a Halloween themed artifact generating doom and horror! However, it's there because of a touch sensitivity to chili, ginger and a million other things.

Oh, and before I forget: happy Indian Halloween!

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.