Come an emergency, all good boy scouts must know how to: start a fire, tie a reef knot, send messages in morse code, and frankly, knowing how to make puris and pakoras comes in handy in a spot of trouble too.
The other night our whole family was invited to Mali’s scout group to show them how to cook up a full Indian meal: rice, pakoras, puris, chutney, matar panir and halava. The scout leader had been to the temple and wanted the boys to get the full experience!
It was so much fun. Hyperactive boys + hot oil + messy ingredients is always a recipe for excitement, and these boys didn’t disappoint. My team was making puris, and within minutes they were beating up the dough to within an inch of its life, and rolling the puris into hearts, faces, and quite a few unmentionables too (much to their delight when they puffed up).
At the end of the evening, they all lined up for the tasting, jostling and elbowing to go first. My dad said a prayer, and we served until the pots were empty. One boy came up for four helpings of halava, and said he wished he could eat it everyday. Give him a few years – he’ll probably end up living in the temple.
At the beginning of the summer I mentioned attending concerts at London’s annual Darbar festival. In just a few years, this has become a world renowned confluence of some of the greatest artists in classical Indian music today. One of my absolute favourite concerts was that of the dynamic Ganesh and Kumaresh, the Carnatic violin brothers. SkyArts broadcast all of the performances, and you can watch them now on YouTube. Below is the one that stole the show for me. Their playing is simply breathtaking, but seeing them live is a wonderful opportunity to witness their wonderful humility, warmth, humour, as well as their charming interaction with each other as they play such divine music.
Some people freak out on ekadasi – that fortnightly fast day where all grains, beans (and apparently anything worth eating) are avoided. Not me. Sometimes I think ekadasi is the best day of all, especially when I get to make recipes like this. I have been wanting to make these muffins ever since Prema Yogi, our intrepid chef, roadie, yogi and generally talented guy, made them for us on the Australian leg of the Mantralogy tour a couple of months ago.
I got up at 5am this morning to make them for my sister, who headed off to Mexico this morning. Bye bye Tuls!
The recipe is of course gluten free, and originally vegan, though you can substitute the coconut cream for yoghurt as I did (apparently coco cream is harder to buy than I thought.) They come out surprisingly fluffy, irresistibly moist, and punched with dates and berries.
1 1/2 cups buckwheat flour
1 1/2 cups almond or hazelnut meal
3 teaspoons baking soda
1 cup raw sugar
400ml coconut cream
3/4 cup sunflower or macadamia oil (tastes better)
1 cup softened dates (simmered in enough water to cover then drained) or soft medjool dates – diced
1 punnet diced strawberries
1 punnet blueberries
3 medium bananas mashed
1 tsp vanilla essence (imitation on ekadasi)
Mix the dry ingredients together.
Mix the wet ingredients together in a separate bowl.
Add the dry to the wet gradually until well combined, then place into muffin pans, filling almost to the top.
Bake at 175 degrees celsius till risen and browned; roughly 20 mins. They should bounce back a little when pressed with your finger.
And if you want to know where Prema Yogi gets the power to create such great recipes, here’s a clip of him doing his other thing:
Australia was a beautiful whirlwind. Still digesting. Straight after we arrived back we were at Hofstra University to do a tribute concert for George Harrison and in a few days we’ll be flying to San Francisco for another Bhakti Bar concert with Jai Uttal. Phew. Here’s some little moments that capture a slice of our Australia trip – apart from all of the hustle and bustle, driving, energetic Kirtan and meeting new people, I found little joys in the small things, like seed pods shaped like butterflies and trays of trifle.
After a 24 hour journey we finally reached Australia! It’s spring here and I’m so enchanted by all of the flowering trees – magenta sprays of bougainvillea, clustered lilac jacaranda trees with branches like embroidered thread, long carob pods, and brilliant red flame trees. We’ve tried to just relax today but went down to a local park where we came across a Hang drummer. We couldn’t resist getting into a little jam with him and inviting him to the Brisbane Maha Kirtan on Saturday.
Though I was completely wiped out today after getting into DC at 4am this morning, it turned out to be a beautiful day. It was raining hard when I woke up, groggy and ready to rush to leave for our midday Unity Walk event in DC. My phone showed several missed calls from my friends in Florida, all ringing to say that my dear friend and sister, Ani, had given birth to her little boy five weeks early! He arrived on one of the most auspicious days in the whole year – the anniversary of the day that Krishna lifted Govardhan Hill. He definitely has a blessed future, born to some of the most wonderful, talented and lovable people that I know.
Our event at the Unity Walk was inspiring. A surprisingly large number of people turned up on the wet morning to Washington Hebrew Synagogue to begin the walk to different local places of worship in the name of interfaith. We were sandwiched inbetween a heartfelt call to prayer by a local imam, and a Bah’ai trio. Gaura led a prayer to the guru, and then we sang the maha mantra, explaining that it was the favourite song of Chaitanya, the founder of kirtan. Behind us, Sufi dancers whirled in time – we’ll upload the video here asap.
Later we went to the temple for an evening of kirtan and celebration. I love Govardhan puja. It never fails to transport me to Vrindavan, no matter how far I am geographically. At home in England we normally have the festival partly in the cow barn, and have fun decorating the cows with coloured powders and garlands. There were no cow pujas in Potomac, but there was the traditional Govardhan Hill made of sweet halavah and broccoli trees. Funny how a mound of cooked and decorated semolina can evoke such devotion when meditated on and worshipped with full sincerity and conscious intention. As we circumambulated, my mind flew to the last time my feet walked the dusty path around Govardhan. In the autumn morning the sand was cool, and the air mild – filled with the soft sounds of temple bells and jagged cries of peacocks. It’s one of my favourite places in the whole world.
Speaking of places, and the world (how’s that for a seamless link?) we’re going to Australia tomorrow! Ozzy Ozzy Ozzy! Oi Oi Oi!
Radha Madan Mohan dressed for the festival.
Sri Sri Gaura Nitai
Sri Giridhara Gopal (One who lifts Govardhan Hill and protects the cows) incarnates in rice and lentil form!
Disassembling the hill.
Aniyora! Aniyora! Give me more!
Baby Srinath Jakupko (another name for Krishna as Srinathji – see ‘Go Go Gopalji‘) – a star is born, mark my words.
We’ve been in and out of New York this weekend in the blink of an eye. Driving from DC on early Friday morning, we spent the day rehearsing for our upcoming George Harrison concert at Hofstra University, then had an incredible evening at Ashtanga Yoga. It was my first time there and I was completely charmed by the traditional Indian opening-in-the-wall style temples and the sweetly smiling Radha Damodara deities, cared for by Kaustubha Das and his wife, Gitapriya.
The air was filled with frankincense, and ghee lamps in clay cups gradually lined the altar doorway, as we all offered our Damodarastakam prayers. Though we were all exhausted from the day of travelling, the mood was so special, that for two hours, I forgot everything and gratefully tried to chant and dance with full heart.
Today we did kirtan for a special yoga class at Exhale Spa opposite Central Park. The class was led by Kirtan Rasa, an ex schoolmate of Gaura’s, who was eager to share the full deovtional experience with his students. This meant kirtan, dance, meditation and most importantly at the end- strawberry halava!
Later we trawler through the Saturday evening traffic to hit up the world famous Donut Plant. I’d been told so much about this place by my friends that it had taken on an almost mythical status, heightened by the fact that every time I tried to go on previous trips to the city, something got in the way. Anyway, though they’d almost run out by the time we got there (even at the end of the day there was still a queue snaking out of the door) one Coconut Cream and one Creme Brulee later, I was well and truly intiatied. Let it be known- what they say is true, they are definitely worth the trek.
We ended the day with a kirtan evening at the Open centre before unanimously deciding to drive through the night back to DC. Tomorrow is another day, and we are racing the clock to be in Downtown DC at noon for a kirtan as part of the 9/11 Unity Walk.
Come Monday, we’ll be escaping the creeping cold as we travel to Australia for a two week tour. As an old Englishman once said, “It ain’t easy, but it ain’t half bad neither!”
I usually regard my mind as a grappling partner who I happen to share a body with. At any given moment it can grab me round the neck and demand we wrestle until one of us wins.
Today was different – for once it helped me out.
Every morning I struggle through my japa meditation, trying not to think about laundry or to-do lists. Today my mind gently gathered the sensory information around: the soft light, creeping through the basement door; the peaceful quiet of the early morning; the smooth roll of the wooden beads in my hand, and evoked another world for just a little while. Suddenly I felt transported to Vraj, to the place near Govardhan known as Vrinda Kund. I sat in front of the tiny, white marble temple chanting quietly. The clatter of the washing machine became the distant noise of a truck passing by on the rural potholed roads. Sprays of brilliant pink bougainvillea sprouted just beyond my edge of vision, and I saw the beautiful face of the deity there – holding the lotus flower and green parrot.
Maybe it was just a few moments before I found myself back in a basement in Maryland. But for those few moments, I was so grateful.
