namahatta.org - Congregational Development Ministry

The above picture was taken by Melbourne food photographer Peter Bailey at the conclusion of our photo shoot for my first book, Great Vegetarian Dishes a little over 18 years ago in 1990. Yes, it's been that long. If you seem to recognise that picture, you're not alone. You and the other 750,000 people who own a copy, including readers in Hungary, Italy and Iran, would know that it's on your dal-spattered back cover of the book.

Now cast your mind back 10 more years (ok, I know, some of you were not even born yet). The year is 1980, and the place is Malvern Road, Prahran, Melbourne. Downstairs are the Brown Gouge Dry Cleaners, and upstairs is an early incarnation of the now famous Gopal's Vegetarian Restaurant.

The manager at the time, Brihaspati, pulls me aside one day and suggests we should run some cookery classes, since my daily cooking is eliciting very favourable comments. Some of the guests have even asked for the recipes, he says. Remember, at this time I have not written any cookbooks, nor have I ever put on anything that vaguely resembles a cooking class.

I'm horrified with the suggestion. Me? In front of a crowd? I'm petrified; Public speaking was never my forte. I used to take sick days when school debating was on. But Brihaspati keeps nagging me about it. The clincher is this: he suggests we call the classes 'Cooking with Kurma'. That sounds appealing...

Not long after, the posters go up, the enrolments roll in, and we hold our first 6-week demonstration course, on a wednesday evening. 80 people are booked; it's a grand success....

We've held many more courses at all the different Gopals addresses since then - Flinders Lane, Elizabeth Street, and finally the current venue, 139 Swanston, opposite the Melbourne Town Hall. I've written books, done my TV shows, and hit the road. The rest is history.

Recently I received this letter from Linda, a loyal blog reader:

"I remember my 6-week cooking class with you at Prahran in 1980 like it was yesterday. Now my 25 year old daughter uses your cookbooks. How fast one lifetime goes by..."

In celebration of those heady years, I'm flying to Melbourne today and returning to Gopals for another class. Sort of like one of those ageing rock star things. There will even be groupies, apparently. Some of my early students are returning, taking the wheelchair access up to the top floor venue for one last fling.

The first of these all-inclusive hands-on Memory Lane cookery workshops, concluding with a grand feast, will be held this Sunday. I'm getting all teary just thinking about it.

That's Kurma's Kotara Kooking, by the way. Anyone googling the Ku Klux Klan will end up here, but hey, more traffic is always welcome.

Kotara is a suburb adjoining Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia. If you read my blog regularly you'll know that I taught a cooking class there a few days ago, and I did promise you some pics.

My camera gave up its air of life just before the weekend, so I conducted the class without one. Luckily our attendees were avid paparazzi, so we have vision - plenty with me in - since your's truly was not taking the shots.

I feel a bit sea-sick looking at this picture. Our cabin crew were listening (not listing) intently as I gave my preamble to the class, entitled “The Upmarket Vegetarian”. After handing out the printed class notes, I introduced myself and allowed everyone to do the same; then I spoke about the menu for the day, explaining all about the origins of the recipes, any relevant history, botany and geography, and general culinary tidbits.

The first recipe cooked was the remarkable Hot, Sweet Sour and Spicy Eggplant Pickles from my second cookbook Cooking With Kurma. It's always a winner, and is very dramatic when it cooks. Here I'm sprinkling in the ground, dry-roasted cumin at its steamy grand finale.

We cooked up a batch of Fragrant, Tomato-laced Karnataka Hot & Sour Toor Soup (Rasam), Classic South Indian Lemon Rice with Fresh Coconut & Cashews, and made some fresh panir cheese from lovely rich organic unhomogenised milk.

Several tastings of the cheese were offered: fresh, warm and raw chunks drizzled with extra-virgin oilive oil, sea salt and lemon juice, and then pan-fried sweet-chili panir mini-steaks.

The majority of the fresh cheese was used for our Savoury Fresh Cheese Balls in Creamy Tomato Sauce (Malai Kofta). We kneaded and brayed the warm cheese till it was smooth, then folded in chopped roasted almonds, salt and pepper, a little hing and chopped sultanas and fresh coriander. Here they are, one of two whole platefuls from 8 litres of milk, ready to shallow-fry and submerge in our cream-infused sauce.

A Fresh Garden Salad was assembled, consisting of assorted salad leaves, fresh basil, asparagus and grape tomatoes, blanched and sauteed vegetables and a delightful tahini and honey infused lemon and oil dressing.

After whipping up a batch of South Indian Coconut Chutney with first class frozen shredded coconut we made our Coconut and Rice Flour Crepes Stuffed with Potatoes (Masala Dosa).

I always like to direct the plating-up of lunch. Presentation is important.

Dessert was Saffron-scented Rice Pudding (Chaval Ksira), served with Cream, Fresh Mangoes and Strawberries.

Poornima from Chennai writes:

"I need a recipe to make pulav or briyani without onion and garlic. Is that possible to make with out these two ingredients. If so I need the procedure to do it."

Kurma replies:

"Just leave out the garlic and onions for a satvic rice dish. Here's my recipe for a simple but tasty pulao."

Classic Basmati Rice Pulao

This is a classic rice dish from India, inspired by the Moghul cuisine. Originally, the dish came from Iran, where it was named pollou or pillau (from pollo, rice). This dish was taken to India, where it became pullao, or pulao, one of the most important rice dishes of the sub-continent. Westwards, this most famous Persian dish became the basis of pilav or pilaf in Turkey and Armenia, the pilafi dishes of Greece and the paellas of Spain. It's even the origin of the famous Russian rice dish plov.

1 cup basmati rice
3/4 teaspoon salt
4 green cardamom pods, bruised
2 cups water
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1-3 tablespoons ghee
one 4 cm cinnamon stick
6 whole cloves
1/3 cup slivered or sliced raw almonds, toasted
1/4 cup fresh or frozen peas, steamed

Heat and bring slowly to the boil the water, salt, and turmeric in a 2-litre/quart saucepan over moderate heat.

Heat the ghee or oil in another 2-litre/quart saucepan over moderately low heat. Fry the cinnamon stick, cloves, and bruised cardamom pods in the hot ghee until the spices are aromatic. Add the rice and saute for about 1 minute or until the grains turn whitish.

Pour in the boiling salted turmeric water, stir, increase the heat to high, and bring the water to a full boil. Immediately reduce the heat to low, cover with a tight-fitting lid, and gently simmer, without stirring, for 15 - 20 minutes or until all the water is absorbed and the rice is tender and flaky.

Remove from the heat but keep covered for another 5 minutes to allow the rice to rest and firm up. Fold in the toasted nuts and peas. Serve hot.

SD from Perth, Western Australia, writes:

"Hey Kurma, where are you? I miss your blog."

Kurma replies:

"Here I am, back from the world of incommunicado. To be more precise, I just returned from Kotara, near Newcastle in New South Wales, where I taught a class. Stay tuned for a photo essay."

This is an oldie, but a goldie:

Pixie from Moonee Ponds, Victoria, Australia wrote:

Hey Kurma, keep up the good work - your blog is an inspiration. Was wondering if you can help. I was shopping yesterday and bought some annatto seeds from a Philippino store. What are they and what do I do with them?

My reply:

Hello Pixie. Annatto is used both as a spice and a dyestuff. It may be better known to Mexican and Latin markets as achiote or in the Philippines as atsuwete or achuete.

Here's lots more information, plus a recipe.

October is upon us already: this year has raced by so quickly! It seems that as one gets older, time appears to be accelerating. My first 12 years in England were happily spent in childhood pursuits. At the time, that portion of my life appeared endless.

It's birthday season: My grandson Sebastian will be turning 6 in a week, and later my son Chaitanya will be 23; a few weeks after that my other grandson Toby will be 4, my son Nitai will be 12, and at the end of the year I turn 56.

My mother passed away last year. My father is 84. As I wrote the above paragraph, my father, seated at his computer across the room received an email announcing news of the sudden death of his younger cousin.

The great Sanskrit classic Srimad Bhagavatam says:

"As a mass of clouds does not know the powerful influence of the wind, a person engaged in material consciousness does not know the powerful strength of the time factor, by which he is being carried."

Time races by, and before we know it, our life will come to an end. We should not keep our head in the clouds, but remember that we have an alloted time, and when that time is up, we have no choice but to move on.

The great politician-pandit named Canakhya said that not even one moment of time can ever be returned, even if one is prepared to pay millions of dollars. One cannot calculate the amount of loss there is in wasting valuable time. So, either materially or spiritually, we should be very alert in utilizing the time which we have at our disposal.

In this morning's groaningly full cyber-mailbag were two letters both requiring the same answer.

M.K. from Heidelberg, Germany wrote asking whether I had a recipe for ekadasi (grain-free) pakora batter.

Malati dasi from USA also wrote asking for some grain-free feast ideas for a 100-person spiritual retreat.

I sent this recipe (and some extra ones for Malati) to both enquirees. It's delicious, easy and addictive.

The photo below was of a special non-grain selection prepared by my students and I in Ljubljana, Slovenia a couple of years ago. The crispy pakoras are in the foreground of the plate.

Crisp Grain-free Ekadasi Cauliflower Fritters (Pakoras)

Pakoras are popular spiced, batter-dipped, deep-fried, vegetables that make perfect snacks or hors d'oeuvres. Ghee is the preferred medium for frying pakoras, although you can use nut or vegetable oil.

The tradition of frying things in batter is popular throughout the culinary world. In Italy, there’s the delicious Neapolitan fritters known as pasta cresciuta, comprising of things like sun-dried tomato halves, zucchini flowers, and sage leaves dipped in a yeasted batter and fried in olive oil. The Japanese dip all sorts of things, including zucchini, eggplant and carrot into a light thin batter and serve the tempura with dipping sauce.

In India, pakoras (pronounced pak-OR-as) are almost a national passion. Cooked on bustling street corners, in snack houses, and at home, the fritters are always served piping hot, usually with an accompanying sauce or chutney. The vegetables can be cut into rounds, sticks, fan shapes, or slices. The varieties are endless.

Try batter-frying various types of vegetables. Cauliflower pakoras are probably the most popular, but equally delicious are potato rings, zucchini chunks, spinach leaves, pumpkin slices, eggplant rings, baby tomatoes, sweet potatoes, red or green pepper slices, asparagus tips, and artichoke hearts. Cook pakoras slowly to ensure that the batter and the vegetables cook simultaneously. Makes about 2 dozen pakoras.

1 cup each of buckwheat and arrowroot flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons pure asafoetida powder
1½ teaspoons turmeric
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
1½ teaspoons ground coriander
2 teaspoons nigella seeds
2½ cups cold water, or enough to make a smooth batter
1 large cauliflower cut into florets
ghee or oil for deep-frying

Combine the flours, salt, powdered spices, and green chilies in a bowl. Mix well with a wire whisk.

Whisk in sufficient cold water to make a batter the consistency of medium-light cream. When you dip the vegetable in the batter, it should be completely coated but neither thick and heavy nor runny and thin. Have extra flour and water on hand to adjust the consistency as required. Let the batter sit for 10 to 15 minutes.

Heat the ghee or oil to a depth of 6 – 7 cm in a wok or deep-frying vessel until the temperature reaches about 180°C/355°F.

Dip 5 or 6 pieces of cauliflower in the batter and, one at a time, carefully slip them into the hot oil. Fry until the pakoras are golden brown, turning to cook them evenly on all sides. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Continue cooking until all the pakoras are done. Serve immediately or keep warm, uncovered, in a preheated cool oven for up to ½ hour.

Tracey D from Perth, Western Australia asks:

"Do you have a recipe for a sauce to serve with samosas, like a tamarind type of sauce?"

My reply: "Yes I do. This one is perfect with samosas".

Sweet and Sour Tamarind Chutney

Tamarind is the fruit contained in the hanging pods of the tamarind tree, Tamarindus indica. The pods themselves are between 10-15cm (46 inches) long, cinnamon-brown coloured with a fuzzy coating. The pulp from inside the pods is piquant with a sour, date/apricot flavour.

There are some interesting etymological origins of the word 'tamarind'. The Arabic tamr hindi simply means “date of India” ('date' being a general name for the fruits of various palm trees); needless to say, tamarind neither stems from India nor is it related to palm trees. It is a native of Africa.

Dried tamarind is available at all Indian and Asian grocers in three main forms - hard, pressed blocks, packets of softer pulp and jars of puree, or concentrate. The dried pulp, which needs to be reconstituted by soaking it in water, varies immensely from source to source. The stuff in jars also varies from liquid to jam-like.

Some pulp appears full of fibre, and others are relatively fibre-free. But this is not an indication of quality; some of the best tasting tamarind puree I have tasted comes from soaking very unappealing looking rock-hard dried tamarind. Shop around, and choose your favourite brand.

There are innumerable variations on this classic chutney. This one is sauce-like and sweetened predominantly with dates. It is very versatile and popular, and especially suited as an accompaniment for fried dishes, such as samosas, kofta, pakoras and vadai. Makes about 2 cups

1/3 cup tamarind pulp
3/4 cup dried dates
1½ teaspoons minced fresh ginger
1-2 fresh green chilies chopped
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons garam masala
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper

Soak the tamarind pulp in 1 1/3 cups hot water for 1 hour. Soak the dates in ½ cup hot water for 1 hour. Place the soaked dates and their soaking liquid along with the ginger, the green chilies, and another cup water in a 2- or 3-litre saucepan. Bring to the boil, then cook, covered, over low heat for 15-20 minutes, or until the dates are very tender. Remove the saucepan from the heat.

Meanwhile, squeeze out all the soft pulp from the soaked tamarind, push and squeeze it through a sieve, reserve the puree and discard the stones and roughage. Combine the strained tamarind puree with the tender cooked dates and their cooking liquid in a food processor. Blend to a smooth puree.

Pour the puree into the rinsed out saucepan that held the dates. Add the sugar, salt, garam masala and cayenne pepper. Bring to the boil over a gentle heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Simmer the chutney for 5-10 minutes more, then allow it to cool to room temperature before serving. The flavours of this chutney improve as it sits.

William Cowper (1731-1800) was an English poet and singer of hymns. Alexander Selkirk (1676 – 1721) was a Scottish sailor who spent four years as a castaway on an uninhabited island. This poem was Cowper's tribute to Alexander Selkirk whose shipwrecked existence upon an uninhabited island later inspired Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.

My guru Srila Prabhupada was fond of quoting lines 16 and 17 "Society, Friendship, and Love, Divinely bestow'd upon man" in his books and lectures.* It seems he studied Cowper at Scottish Churches College in Calcutta at the turn of the 20th century.

"The Solitude of Alexander Selkirk"

I am monarch of all I survey;
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the sea
I am lord of the fowl and the brute
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of humanity's reach;
I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech —
I start at the sound of my own;
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see —
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, Friendship, and Love
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
Oh had I the wings of a dove
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more.
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wingèd arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place;
And mercy—encouraging thought!—
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.

(*this is one of my favourites:

"Srila Vidyapati, a great Vaisnava poet, has sung:

'tatala saikate, vari-bindu-sama,
suta-mita-ramani-samaje'

Material sense gratification, with society, friendship and love, is herein compared to a drop of water falling on a desert. A desert requires oceans of water to satisfy it, and if only a drop of water is supplied, what is its use?")

Natasha from Calgary, Canada writes: "Dear Kurma, do you have a satvic hummus recipe, without garlic?"

My reply: "Yes, here's my recipe. Creamy!"

Chickpea and Sesame Paste Dip (Hummus bi Tahina)

Homemade hummus is much, much better than any shop-bought version, unless you are purchasing the freshly made product from a traditional middle-eastern suppler. Truly authentic hummus is made from freshly soaked, boiled and peeled chickpeas - not as daunting as it sounds! If that's all too hard, buy canned chickpeas, and proceed from there; but the result will definitely be inferior.

Here in Australia, I use the Ord River chickpeas from Western Australia. When cooked they produce big, soft creamy-textured chickpeas, ideal for hummus. Overseas readers should locate the largest chickpeas they can find. Big is beautiful in the chickpea world, I have discovered. This recipe makes 1½ cups.

200g dried chickpeas, that's one very heaped metric measuring cup
¼ cup lemon juice
½ teaspoon yellow asafetida powder (to replace two cloves garlic)
¼ cup tahini
1 teaspoon salt

Soak the chickpeas in cold water overnight or at least 6 hours. Drain and throw away the soak water. Place the chickpeas in a large saucepan. Cover with fresh, unsalted cold water, about three times the volume, and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for an hour or until the chickpeas are very tender, topping up with water if necessary.

Drain the chickpeas, reserving the cooking liquid. Cool slightly then rub the chickpeas well to loosen the skins. Cover with cold water and the loose skins will rise to the surface. Scoop them off and discard. The chickpeas that didn't give up their skins should be peeled for the best, creamiest hummus. Patience!

Place the peeled chickpeas in a food processor with the lemon juice, asafetida, tahini and half of the salt. Process to a smooth puree, adding some of the reserved cooking liquid if necessary to achieve a smooth result. Add the remaining salt if it needs it.

Marianne wrote regarding my recent batch of cupcakes:

"They look delicious! Could you please share the recipe?"

Here we go: Actually, the original recipe is from 'Vegan with a Vengeance' by Isa Chandra Moskowitz. Highly recommended, especially for those wanting reliable egg-free cakes.

Note that while the cups mentioned are American cups (240ml), I used Australian cups (250ml) with no loss of quality.

Lemon Gem Cupcakes

1 1/3 cups plain (all-purpose) flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup oil or butter (I used macadamia oil)
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 scant cup mik or non-dairy milk like rice milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 tablespoon lemon zest

Preheat oven to 350 F/ 180 C.
Line a regular (not a non-stick) twelve-muffin tin with paper liners.
Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
In a separate bowl combine the oil or melted butter, sugar, milk, vanilla, lemon juice and lemon zest.
Pour the dry ingredients into the wet and mix until smooth.
Fill each muffin cup about two-thirds full.
Bake for 17-20 minutes.
Remove the cupcakes from the muffin tin and place on a cooling rack. Frost when fully cooled.

Lemon Frosting

1/4 cup heavy cream cheese
scant 1/4 cup milk or soy milk
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 cups icing sugar, sifted

Whisk or beat everything together, adding the milk slowly until you reach the desired consistency (cream cheeses vary).

Dear readers, I've been unable to publish any blogs for the last few days. It's not that I don't have a few things lying in my 'Create News Item' box; its just that I didn't think discussing the Tamil name for tempe is all that important, in light of some recent developments.

What developments?

A couple of my peers - Godbrothers we call them in the Hare Krishna Movement - died in the last week. They were Sadaputa Dasa and Sundararupa Dasa. I did not know either of them personally, though I read many of the brilliant books authored by Sadaputa (Dr. Richard L. Thompson - pictured above).

What really hit me was that both of these men were just a couple of years older than me. When men practically your own age start leaving, you become more thoughtful about your own life plans, and consider priorities more carefully.

Once upon a time, a Lawyer was brought before Yamaraja, The Lord of Death. He challenged Yamaraja's right to bring him to The Court of Death since he had been given no notice. According to the law, pointed out the Lawyer, one must be first notified of one's forthcoming detention.

Yamaraja's reply to the Lawyer was unexpected. "What colour is your hair?" he asked.

"Grey" replied the Lawyer.

"Precisely" answered Yamaraja. "Your notice of impending death has been given".

So, as Godbrother and email aquaintance Babhru Dasa so poignantly pointed out in succinct cowboy-speak, it's 'time to saddle up'.

Much was written about these men via in-house correspondence, but one drew my attention especially. I'd like to share it with you, if I may. It's a good read.

Read: In Memoriam - A Quantum Loss" by Jayadvaita Swami...

Arundhati from India writes:

"I am a regular reader of your blog posts through Taste of India. I would like to know if you have a recipe for lactose-free gulab jamuns. My boss is lactose intolerant and loves gulab jamuns. He just can't eat them. Is there any way at all?"

My reply:

"There may be a way, but you'd have to experiment. Perhaps you could use soy milk powder (if you can find it in India) or some other lactose-free milk powder, mixed perhaps with some coconut milk powder and a little self-raising flour. Have a try and tell me if you have any success."

Dear readers, any comments or ideas for lactose-free gulabs?

ShriKantha from Dubai, United Arab Emirates writes:

"Hello Kurma! Congrats on your blog. I so much enjoy reading your daily updates. I especially enjoyed seeing the blog archives, and re-reading your August entries. So prolific and definitely your best month ever. Please keep it up. Kind regards from the UAE."

My reply

"Thanks ShriKantha. Your encouraging words are a great elixir. I also agree, August was my best writing month ever: quite an eclectic mix. Thank you, Kurma."

I baked some cupcakes. So light and fluffy, lemony, intensely delicious, originally vegan. I used a great recipe from 'Veganomicon' by Isa Chandra Moskowitz.

They contain lots of lemon juice and zest and vanilla. I used macadamia oil instead of butter. The batter was runny, but the lemon, bicarb soda, milk (I semi de-veganised it) and baking powder sort of did their chemical thing and it all set firm, but light, with a nice translucent crumb.

No one would believe they had no egg inside. 'What's the frosting?', I hear you ask. Cream cheese, lemon juice, sugar and lemon zest.

Never heard of Tikkis? No they're not what teachers put on good pre-school drawings. They're a delicious finger-food from The Subcontinent; pan-fried mashed potato patties with a tender-crisp crust and soft interior.

L from Vancouver, British Columbia wrote

"Dear Kurma, I really enjoy your website and your gracious gift of sharing your skills and passionate insights of vegetarian cooking. Thank you.

My friend, who is a Hare Krishna devotee, gave me a copy of Back to Godhead magazine (Dec 1982) which had a recipe for Aloo Tikki.

Following the instructions, I ended up making tikki's which were crunchy on the outside, and gluey on the inside (although quite tasty). I used idaho potatoes, so maybe I need to use another type of potato? Could you offer some suggestions?"

Now, since the question required expertise in the subject of North American/Canadian potatoes, I wrote my North American Correspondent Devadeva Mirel, (none other than Jam Queen Sabjimata) who kindly answered as follows:

"Hello L,

I really like making aloo tikki and, once you get the swing of it, I am pretty sure you will be making aloo tikki without any recipe at all. It is rather versatile and I am a little surprised you had gluey results. I checked online and found this link to an aloo tikki recipe by Yamuna Devi, and figured it is the same or similar to what you used.

Okay, assuming you stuck to the recipe verbatim, let's get into details. Yamuna's recipe calls for "potatoes suitable for boiling." New potatoes, round white, or round red potatoes and Yukon Gold all fit the bill. Idahos are not boiling potatoes, but they make good mashed potatoes, so I would think you could pull it off without incident, but apparently that wasn't the case. I almost always use Yukon Golds because I think they are the most flavorful.

I know you said you followed the recipe, and I trust that you did, but still I'm going to ask: Did you sub out the flour/binder for cornstarch or arrowroot powder? Instead of mashing the potatoes, did you put them in the food processor? These things could make your end results gluey (although I personally only use arrowroot powder as a binder). Best wishes, Devadeva."

I have never published a blog about mushrooms, but I am asked about them constantly. Since the Hare Krishna diet appears to be almost identical with many classic Buddhist vegetarian diets where mushrooms are used profusely, people usually presume that mushrooms would be acceptable.

And why are there no mushroom recipes in my books? The reason is that in the ancient culinary Bhakti Yoga tradition to which I subscribe, mushrooms are not cooked. No Vishnu, Krishna or Rama (Vaisnavaite) temple kitchen will ever prepare them. They are considered unfit foods to prepare in sacred food offerings due to their fungal nature.

Yes, they are nutritious, and yes some Hare Krishna devotees will occasionally eat them. The following exchange, originally about yeast, will shed some light:

Karthick from Houston Texas writes:

"I was wondering about some of your recipes, some of them have yeast in it, I was wondering if this is acceptable to be offered to Krishna. I thought yeast is a living organism, just like mushroom is. Please forgive my ignorance and help me understand this."

My reply:

"Thanks for your letter. Yeast is not a traditional ingredient in Vaishnava cookery, yet we do prepare and offer to Krishna fermented things like khamir poori, dosa, idli, jalebis etc. These are all fermented naturally, with the help of airborne yeasts.

Yes, yeast could be compared with mushrooms. However, it was not specifically banned by our founder Srila Prabhupada (like meat, fish, eggs, garlic, onion, alcohol are). When he first arrived from India, Prabhupada tasted western yeast-risen breads, but he said he found them dry, and much preferred his hot, freshly cooked unleavened chapatis.

Prabhupada did not eat mushrooms, and recommended we don't. Most Hare Krishna devotees never touch them, though some do. I have seen devotees in Russia pick them from the forest and cook them. So why this apparent grey area?

Here's a recent exchange of letters about mushrooms:

Malati devi: "And, what about mushrooms? We don't offer them to the (temple) Deities. However, in France, at the Nouvelle Mayapur Chateau (perhaps Kanti will recall this), they found very exotic expensive type of mushroom known as truffles on the property, and the devotees wondered about it."

Kanti devi: "yes, I do recall that, because I started making cream of mushroom soup for the devotees. We had mushroom pizza, mushroom rice, mushroom pakoras, so many mushrooms. There was one French devotee who would bring in crates full that he collected in the forest.

Naturally the devotees (Bhagavan dasa specifically) asked Srila Prabhupada before we did anything with them. The mushrooms were 'cèpes', (not truffles) a large mushroom that grows in the forest, and we had thousands of them. Srila Prabhupada said that 'Lord Caitanya ate mushrooms when he was travelling in the Jarikhanda Forest, and we could as well'. We did not have Radha Krishna Deities at that time, we had a Pancha Tattva altar and Srila Prabhupada said they were offerable to (on the altar to the sacred deity forms of) Pancha Tatva, so we did cook and offer them."

This was a specific circumstance. Prabhupada wanted that the cooks in France did not waste them. But generally, Hare Krishna temple cooks don't use mushrooms; but as you can see in this case, they were not specifically banned like, say, onions and all other members of the allium family. If Kanti devi had been delivered crates of onions picked from the fields, for instance, she would not have prepared them in the temple kitchen. So there is a distinction.

Yamuna Devi, in her entire cookbook collection, has provided one or two recipes that contain mushrooms.

I have only one unpublished recipe containing mushrooms. Otherwise I hardly touch them. They are, after all, a fungus, and do not help to elevate the consciousness like 'satvic' foods do. Hence they are generally included in the category of 'tamasic' foods (foods touched by the lower modes of ignorance).

Hope this is clear. Best wishes, Kurma"

The God gene hypothesis proposes that human beings inherit a set of genes that predispose them to belief in a higher power. The idea has been postulated by geneticist Dr. Dean Hamer, the director of the Gene Structure and Regulation Unit at the U.S. National Cancer Institute, who has written a book on the subject titled, The God Gene: How Faith is Hardwired into our Genes.

On the other hand, the proponents of Intelligent Design assert that certain features of the universe and of living things are best explained by an intelligent cause, not an undirected process such as natural selection.

See what John Cleese has to say about all this: 'The God Gene'

Stuart E from Canberra attended my cookery class last Saturday. He just wrote me, waxing lyrically about the session. Promising to try making the panir cheese I demonstrated, he wondered whether I had a recipe for the famous peas, panir cheese and tomatoes. Here it is, from 'ye longe loste blogges'.

"When I was younger, so much younger than today, I thought that the classic dish of peas, panir cheese and tomatoes was called Mata Panir. You probably know that mata is Hindi for mother, and panir refers to traditional fresh cheese. I used to nickname the dish 'the old cheese', a reference to English slang for one's wife.

Anyway, I've been meaning to share that piece of trivia with someone for a while. In reality, of course, the dish is called Matar Panir, matar meaning peas. I was reminded of all of this after receiving a letter from Kavita in India who asked:

"How to make mutter panir?". Mutter is in fact how the word matar is pronounced.

Here's the recipe:

Home-made Sizzling Panir Cheese Nuggets with Fresh Tomatoes, Herbs and Peas (Matar Panir)

This dish originates in Punjab, northern India. However, it is well known all over India, and there are hundreds of variations of the same dish. But the same main ingredients are always there: peas and panir cheese in a spiced, minted tomato sauce. Here's a delicious version that can be served with any meal, anytime. It especially lends itself to special feasts and dinners and can be kept warm for some time, actually improving the flavour of the dish. Serves 5 or 6.

2 tablespoons ghee or oil
½ teaspoon black mustard seeds
5 teaspoons cumin seeds
3 teaspoons minced fresh ginger
1 or 2 hot green chilies, minced
8 large ripe tomatoes, peeled and diced fine
1 tablespoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric
½ teaspoon ground fennel
½ teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon brown sugar
3 tablespoons chopped fresh coriander leaves or parsley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint leaves
homemade curd cheese (panir) made from (2 litres) milk, pressed until firm and cut into small cubes ghee or oil for deep-frying
2 cups cooked fresh or frozen peas
2 cups whey or water
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1½ teaspoons salt

Heat 2 tablespoons ghee or oil in a 5-litre/quart saucepan over moderate heat.

Saute the mustard seeds until they crackle. Add the cumin seeds and stir until they darken a few shades. Add the ginger and green chilies and saute momentarily. Add the chopped tomatoes, powdered spices, sugar, and half the herbs. Partially cover and, stirring occasionally, simmer for about 15 minutes or until the tomatoes break down and turn pulpy.

Heat the ghee or oil in a pan or wok over moderately high heat. When hot (185°C/365°F), deep-fry the cubes of panir cheese a batch at a time until golden brown. Remove and drain.

Add the peas and water or whey to the tomato and spice mixture. Boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook uncovered for 5 minutes. Add the tomato paste and salt and mix well; then add the panir cubes and simmer for 5 more minutes. Before serving, add the remaining herbs. Serve hot."

A Folk Tale

Once upon a time a talkative turtle overheard two hunters say that they were planning to catch turtles the very next day. When the hunters left, the turtle asked two cranes to help him escape. "Beautiful white birds," he said, "if you hold a long stick between your beaks, I'll close my mouth tightly in the middle of it, and then you can fly up and carry me to safety."

"Good idea," said the cranes. "But, for the plan to succeed, you will have to keep your mouth closed tightly on the stick and you must not say a word!" The turtle agreed and biting on the middle of a stick held in the beaks of two birds, off he was carried.

When the birds were high in the air with the turtle dangling down from the stick, some people on the ground looked up at the strange sight in the sky and said, "What clever birds! They figured out how to carry a turtle!"

The proud, talkative turtle cried out, "It was my idea!" and fell tumbling down to earth.