Rituals and the rhythm of life

I love rituals—not extravagant ones, just simple, mindful activities that comprise the rhythm of daily life. One such ritual I've always loved is the process for properly cleaning greens, especially if they are sandy like the kale I purchased today and wilted with ginger, chile and a beautiful Himalayan sea salt, said to be the purest salt on earth (Recipe by Alice Waters).

The final step in the cleaning process is to roll the washed and spun greens gently in a clean dishcloth and allow them to fully dry.

Upon finishing this process, I noticed I felt extremely calm. No surprise, since working with beautiful, whole foods always relaxes me and is an important ritual in my daily life. In fact, whenever I feel stressed, I do one of two things: cook or do asana practice. For me cooking is like yoga and yoga like cooking—both have the ability to bring me right smack into the present, sweet rhythm of life.

Life's a bowl of cherries, sometimes...

I've said it before - there's nothing like a home yoga practice. Tonight I did an hour of yoga, then sat on the back porch enjoying fresh cherries on a summery Southwestern night. Sometimes life really is a bowl of cherries!

Kitchen chaos

This morning my daughter pulled pistachios from the pantry and insisted we make a recipe with them. I love pistachios, so wholeheartedly agreed.

Our next trip was out to our patio herb garden. We decided basil would be the best choice with pistachios. I also wanted to add a hint of mint, but my daughter insisted basil and mint would not work together at all. From the garden, we picked one big, fat zucchini.

Finally, to the frig, where we pulled out a bundle of asparagus, cherry tomatoes, spinach and a lime.

It's always crazy in the kitchen with the kids - my daughter is becoming quite the opinionated cook (like here mama!) and my son sits in his highchair, diaper only, talking a baby blue streak the whole time. So... due to all the kitchen chaos, not all our "recipes" are successes, but this one turned out great ... and we ate it for breakfast! There are no rules in my house about what constitutes breakfast food or not.

Here's what we came up with ...

Asparagus, Zucchini & Tomato Salad with Spinach, Basil & Pistachios

Bunch thin asparagus
Handful of spinach

1 large zucchini
Juice of 1 lime
10 large basil leaves (julienned)
1 TB olive oil (or to taste)
1 tsp. balsamic vinegar (or to taste)
1 tsp. honey (if using raw will need to warm and liquify)
1/2 tsp. lemon zest

1-2 tsp. turbinado sugar (or a bit more if you want more sweetness)
1/4 c. crushed pistachios (leave a few whole)
Salt and pepper to taste

Blanch asparagus in boiling, salted water for a few minutes. While asparagus is blanching, half tomatos and finely dice zucchini - combine in a large mixing bowl. Combine lime juice, olive oil, vinegar, honey and lemon zest to make dressing. Drain asparagus and cut into 1/2" pieces. Add asparagus to tomato and zucchini mixture, add spinach (the heat from the asparagus will be just enough to gently wilt the spinach). Add dressing, basil, sugar, salt and pepper. Top with crushed pistachios and a tiny bit more lemon zest.

Connection to light (tejas)

Last night in a wonderful yoga class at Desert Song, I was reminded by Deb Kayatt, our instructor, that the summer solstice is the day with the most light of any day each year, a perfect day to look into the light of our own beings.

I had forgotten this connection between light and the summer solstice, yet for several days, I have been drawn to the light in my own garden, photographing in the mornings and evenings when the light is soft, playful and seamless with everything around it.

Tejas in the garden

Today is a day to go deeper

Mid-way through my practice, I slide my right knee toward my corresponding wrist. I bow forward and fill-in my waistline with breath. Firmly anchoring tailbone toward the earth and drawing outer edges to the physical and spiritual midline, I walk my hands back and come upright. For a moment I pause – eyes closed – waiting to feel the intelligence of my body answer the question, “What next?” Breathe. Settle. I outstretch my arms and bend into them like a great Saguaro cactus. Hips down, heart up, I arch back and pull my elbows toward my waistline. Breathe. Settle. Then, with the ease of water, my arms flow down by my sides, fingertips reaching toward the earth. From the back of my heart, I lift to the sky. Today is a day to go deeper.

To market to market

"Markets are places of beauty. A sprig of jasmine is hung by a fishmonger's stall to perfume the air; a spray of pink blossoms is laid by a pile of garlic to lure our gaze. I see with fresh eyes in a market: I notice the curves of a squash, deep yellow and enormous, in Rajasthan. In the shiny skin of a fish at a sun-drenched market in Puglia, Italy, I see colors I didn't know existed."
Naomi Duguid, The Beauty of it All, Saveur, June/July 2010

Today I indulged in a luxury I have not partaken in for a very long time - en route on a flight home to Phoenix from Chicago sans kids, I read one of my favorite magazines, Saveur, from cover to cover. This month's issue is all about public markets worldwide. I 'gotta tell you: Reading the magazine like a novel in one delicious sitting was like a culinary adventure across the world.

Mike Madison's article about melons might be some of the best food writing I've ever read - the story about the Afghani grandson, his grandfather and the kharbouza melon brought me to tears.

You will immediately want to make Haleem after reading Eating Mumbai.

A Trip to Bountiful reminded me to buy what I'm drawn to at the farmer's market and let the food lead the dance in the kitchen as to what will unfold.

Sweet Revelation proves that the best recipes are always found by spending time with local cooks, watching and honoring their food traditions.

But, what I loved most about this summer's issue was the above quote by Naomi Duguid in the article The Beauty of it All. In it, she sums up one of the key principles of tantric yoga philosophy: That we should enjoy this auspicious world we live in - really enjoy it! - and cherish our connection to its source. What could illustrate that more primitively than the experience of delicious local food, grown by one human being and offered to another?

May your heart open like a flower

~ Buddhist prayer

Can love neutralize butter?

Full disclosure: There is nothing healthy about the ingredients in this recipe, except for love.

However, I have long believed that family recipes are a subtle force that connect us to our heritage. And, this recipe connects me to someone I love and respect. It was made alongside my daughter with much joy and laughter that I am pretty sure may have just neutralized all that butter!

I also gotta' say there is something very yogic in this decadent, gooey cake. Maybe it's all the sweetness.

Texas Sheet Cake - an old-fashioned recipe by Elsie Bryan

Sift together two times: 2 c. sugar, 2 c. flour (I used white rice flour), 1 tsp. baking soda

Bring to boil: 1 stick butter, 1/2 c. shortening, 1 c. water, 4 TB cocoa. Add to dry ingredients above.

Add to above 1/2 c. buttermilk and two beaten eggs. Mix by hand with a whisk until just combined.

Spread evenly on a lightly greased cookie sheet and bake at 400 for 15-20 min.

While cake is baking, bring to a boil 1/2 c. shortening, 6 TB milk, 4 TB cocoa. Remove from heat and add 1 1/2 c. powdered sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla, 1 c. walnuts. Spread on hot cake.

Spirituality in art

When I was 20 years old, I had an experience that changed me - I saw a Mark Rothko painting for the first time. I was living in Washington D.C. for the summer, interning at the Children's Defense Fund. It was a wonderful summer. As a girl that grew up in small, Midwestern towns, spending the summer riding the D.C. Metro and experiencing a big, exciting city (I was there during Clinton's first term; got to meet Ted Kennedy and Mariann Wright Edelman; and hear Hillary Clinton and George Stephanopolous speak in small group settings), it was a time when the world opened up for me and I saw a glimpse of just how big, complex and intriguing it all was.

As an intern, I was only making $120 a week, so the many free museums were a real draw on the weekends. One weekend I decided to vist The Phillips Collection. Wandering through I suddenly saw a burst of soft, undescribable color peeking from a small room, that I would later learn was called the "Rothko chapel." I recall so vividly being pulled into that room like a moth to a flame and sitting down on the small, monastic bench.

I have no idea how long I sat there, periodically turning to view a different painting (there are four Rothkos - one on each wall). But, I must have sat for a very long time because a security guard finally came up and asked me if I was ok.

I was more than ok. There were no words and still aren't to describe what happened to me that day, but I have loved and adored Mark Rothko's paintings every since (Phoenicians - there is a small one in the new wing of the Phoenix Art Museum).

Later, I would learn that Rothko, who tragically died by suicide, was seeking to capture "spirituality" in his paintings. Well, I can only speak for myself, but, for me, there is God in those bold, unapologetic blocks of color whose edges bleed together like the sediment on canyon walls that can't help but respond to the effects of forces beyond their control.

Post-yoga treat (in my world): White chocolate bark with coconut, pistachios, orange zest and sage flowers

One of the great things about the bulk of my yoga practice being a home practice (I'd love to get to class more than once a week, but between my work and family schedule, it's just not possible until the kids are older), is that I can make my practice exactly what I want and need, listen to whatever music I like and, occasionally, sit on my yoga mat after a great practice and eat something decadent and lovely. This dessert certainly fits that bill! I found this recipe on Deborah Madison's blog (the only thing I did different was use sage flowers in place of the lavender).

ps: I put this post under "Healthy Eating" - you decide -:)

Sweet, sattvic figs

I love fresh figs - a good thing because according to Ayurvedic science, the sister science to yoga that considers the foods we eat a major contributor to our health and well-being, figs are a sattvic food. In Ayurveda, our diet should primarily consists of sattvic foods. These foods are fresh and light and help keep the mind clear.

Earlier this year, we planted a sweet, little white fig tree with a wish and a prayer that it would take off and survive the intense, Arizona summer heat. What a little gem of a tree it's proving to be - currently full of figs!

I love to cook, but as I've commented on this blog before, my cooking philosophy is that fresh, beautiful, wholesome foods need little adornment to taste wonderful. So, in honor of keeping sattvic foods simple, here's how I plan to make a meal out of my figs just as soon as they are ready. This recipe is a slight adaptation from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison (winner of the James Beard and Julia Childs awards).

Arugula Fig Salad
2-3 handfuls arugula
10 fresh figs
1 shallot
Balsamic vinegar
Extra virgin olive oil
Raw, crushed walnuts or pecans
Shaved parmesan cheese
Fresh black pepper

Thinly slice one shallot and combine with  balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Toss arugula with half the dressing. Slice the figs into thin rounds. Arrange arugula in a large, shallow bowl (a rustic wooden bowl is wonderful, if you have one). Add figs on top of arugula and drizzle with remaining dressing. Sprinkle the crushed, raw walnuts or pecans and add shaved parmesan and fresh black pepper to taste. This pairs beautiful with a light, white wine.