It’s not my first time here, but I can’t help but be wow-ed again and again. Everything is a ceremony. The cows in the street, the clanging of bells at dawn, midday, dusk. Why, even the treatment table for oil massage is shaped like a yoni in the temple. You can see that Ayurveda recognizes the interconnection of all things. It gently teaches us that the mental constructs we hold affect our health the just as food we eat.

In fact, when Vagbhata, author of the classical text I’m studying, wants to remind us to eat right and take care of ourselves, he tells us poetically so as to emphasize the point. He tells us to imbibe of only that which is pathya — meaning, that which is healthy, or ‘suitable’–and avoid apathya– unhealthy stimuli. Just prior to this, he’s been talking about food and drinks, so the reader knows that’s what he means.  Still, Vagbhata chooses these beautiful words, ‘pathya’ and ‘apathya’, when he could have simply said ‘foodstuffs’.

With two words, Vagbhata broadens our idea of what we consume, taking it beyond the gross level. In asking that our choices be ‘suitable’, he gives us a picture of nourishment beyond a rulebook of right and wrong. Instead, he wants us to contemplate our individual needs, the season, place, even our personal preference. He wants us to investigate what we eat with our minds and hearts as well as our tongues, but he graciously leaves it up to us to draw the lines outward from there without inserting a limited dogma.

It is as if he joyously proclaims: Do healthy stuff! Do it your own way! (Just, y’know, listen honestly and carefully to nature an’ all.)

What are we eating? At home, at work? What are we eating for pleasure? Television, radio, the book on our nightstand are consumed. Relationships, power dynamics, the feeling of the dinnertime conversation, all must be digested. Every sensory stimulation in our daily routine makes up our diet, our minds, our lives.

Ayurveda asks us to live in accord with Nature and points us toward self-reflection, but it does so in the most spacious and gentle way. It shows us a picture of personal health integrating activities body, speech and mind, while its technical theory offers a seamless connection between practical application and higher philosophy. In this way, Ayurveda is truly holistic, serving anyone who recognizes their basic identity as a part of the web of life.

Studying Ayurveda again is rich. There’s my teacher Dr. Ashwin. There’s the 1,400 year old Sanskrit text I am plodding through. Then, the inpatient AND outpatient Ayurveda clinics. I’m watching the good doctor treat disease with great effectiveness using theory developed and refined literally thousands of years ago.

I’m seeing acute as well as chronic disorders: hypertension, diabetes, asthma, migraines, and country stuff like thorns in eyeballs, cuts to the bone, falls from great heights. All cared for using natural, holistic methods.

How beautiful! The tradition of Ayurveda is simply unparalleled. All of this against the backdrop of India …which shouldn’t matter, of course, but makes it so fun.

Ayurveda is transferable to anyone, anywhere, in any culture. Dr. Ashwin has highlighted the point, telling me, “Summer is summer here, and summer is summer there. We may look different, but on the inside, we are all the same.”

Ayurveda is Ayurveda in India, at home or wherever we may find ourselves. It is not a Hindu thing. At its root, it is not even a vegetarian thing (unless of course a person requires it for his constitution, imbalance, whatever). Ayurveda is not hocus-pocus faith healing, either. It is an ancient, yet rigorous science based on unchanging principles of Nature employed with a sophistication that boggles the mind. That’s how Dr. Ashwin is able to successfully treat complicated disorders, even those which allopathic medicine cannot help.

I look forward to sharing more soon!

Milk thistle is well-known as a wonder herb for all ailments of the liver. It is safe for general use as a basic liver tonic, though it is specifically indicated in cases of hepatitis, jaundice, cirrhosis and liver congestion. It helps regenerate the liver and even reduces fat deposits on the organ. If you do anything that may be considered taxing to the liver–live in a polluted environment, eat processed, fried or fatty foods, drink alcohol, etc–then milk thistle is a good, safe herb to know.

On top of that, milk thistle grows practically everywhere. If you are a die-hard, you could probably don some heavy-duty gloves and go harvest some for yourself. Me? Nettle is one thing (read about my nettle noodles here), but milk thistle? Ouch.

This version of Furikake is an enjoyable way to boost liver function. My Ayurveda teacher, Dharmanidhi, used to say, “Your liver is you.” Which is funny, come to think of it, because my TCM teacher used to say, “Your spine is you.” I can see both perspectives and when I can connect to reverence for my liver and spine, it is easy to eat fresh and homecooked and then treat myself to the delicious but difficult discipline of a good yoga session or workout.

Do something nice for your liver on a daily basis. The liver likes bitter. Drop bitter watercress into your soup. Hide a pinch of turmeric in your meal or chai. Simply eat yummy bitter greens regularly. But, I like to make this Gomasio Furikake recipe because it is always around to liven up a less-than inspiring meal while reminding me to think about the wellbeing of my largest internal organ.

This liver-supporting version of Furikake has as many uses as you have imagination for it: a topping for rice, baked on fish with a layer or miso paste, or popcorn.

My favorite: top a batch of homemade fresh french fries. How’s that for taking care of the liver? Ha!

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Milk Thistle & Sesame Gomasio Furikake

.5 oz wild nori (or seaweed of your choice)
1 1/2 cup sesame seeds
1/4 cup milk thistle seeds
1/4 cup salt

Preheat the oven to 300 and arrange nori flat on a cookie sheet. Cook until it looks toasty, about 10-15 minutes or when it looks done to you. Pulse in a spice grinder.

While nori cooks, dry-roast sesame seeds in a skillet over medium-high heat, turning frequently. They are ready when they are fragrant and slightly darkened. Allow to cool.

Pulse milk thistle seeds in grinder until very small. The outer portion of the seed is rather course must be broken down. The medicinal component of the herb is not usable by the body unless is is ground well, otherwise the body sees it as just roughage.

Combine toasted, ground seaweed, toasted sesame and ground milk thistle with salt in a medium bowl. Take care when filling spice jars that the salt is heaviest ingredient and tends to fall to the bottom while seaweed rises to the top.

Store in jars with tight-fitting lids and consume within a month or two for best results. Unless you are putting a shaker on the table that will be eaten quickly, store in a cool, dark place as all seeds and oils tend to become rancid in extended storage.

I’ve gotten a lot of questions from people recently remembering the following post, originally released in April, 2010. Then, a friend sent this youtube video (warning: funny) and couldn’t resist reposting.

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Last week, I went to a party and this guy and I got into a lively conversation about…neti. You know, the yogic practice where you run a mild, warm saline solution into one nostril and out the other using a little neti pot?

Yes, at a party. It’s Berkeley, people.

Anyway, somehow I started to wax on about my newly acquired giant neti pot which I got about 6 months ago and how much the larger size neti pot has changed my life. I mean it. Changed. My. Life. I swear by this thing. The wild part is, he responded with equal enthusiasm! He had recently gotten the big kind, too, and couldn’t believe the difference. I’m not alone on this one.

Again, it’s Berkeley, people.

I’ve been using neti pots for years. I mostly used what I had access to: cute little ceramic numbers from the generic yoga studio or health food store that hold maybe a cup or two of water. This small amount of water, split between both nostrils, makes for a paltry jala neti experience. Still, even with the tiny pot, I was pretty excited about jala neti when first discovered it and I practiced it regularly for a time. I was impressed with the results. I even gave my family members little hand-thrown ceramic neti pots one Christmas. Poor guys.

Enter the new giant neti pot. I got it about 6 months ago for my birthday and it has been an amazingly different experience. The big neti is where it’s at. I even took a picture. That’s big neti across the table from me at a candlelight dinner. As you can see, it’s getting pretty serious.

It’s made by healthandyoga.com and I even tried to get a discount code for y’all, but I have been reticent about making this forum commercial in any way, even if it saves YOU money. So, just submit a comment here or on fb if you want me to do it to save you 15% or something. (UPDATE: DUE TO READER RESPONSE, THERE IS A DISCOUNT CODE HERE.)

Anyway, this pot. I feel like I want to tell you guys about this pot the way I used to want to tell a girlfriend about a new guy. This neti? I mean wow. Shiny and nice and new, but what it comes down to is that…it’s big.

Size matters.

And it can go again and again and again. I usually fill it twice in a session–once for each side. It’s incredible.

What more could any girl ask for?

[Note: it's a great idea to talk to a qualified yoga instructor if you are interested in starting a jala neti practice. Despite what you'll read on the internet, it *is* a practice, not something to take up now and then when you're feeling congested. It does so much more than 'clean the sinuses' or whatever they say. And, if you're a renegade and are gonna watch youtube and try it anyway, please please PLEASE use good, filtered and boiled water and dry your nasal passages gently and thoroughly afterward. Your head will thank you.]

I’m always talking about plants. Today, I want to speak in defense of art. If human health is about achieving balance, let’s please put art somewhere on the scales.

Please, please make something. You don’t have to be an artist. So often, we get an image in our heads of what an “artist” is. Black beret and canvas in Paris? Suspender-clad metalworker in Oakland? Activist guerilla-knitter in NYC? Noble images of the artist, but please.

People use stuff, make stuff–all the time. So, if we gotta make it, why not make it beautiful? Take, for example, dinner.

Or, craft. Sewing, home repairs and decoration, even gardening, maybe. Craft is such a practical way to bring art into daily life. It can build community. Without craft, life can so easily slip into a very dull and stressful cycle: work> sleep> repeat, peppered with (often unfulfilling, often kitchy, often commercial) entertainment. So, please, please make something.

More than that, craft can be thrifty. It keeps it local. It’s a way to stop the crazy shopping.

In the spirit of the holidays, here’s something seasonal that makes a great gift: homemade advent calendars. If there are kids in your life, these are such a treat and they require really no sewing skill. You can make them in any color combination to suit any occasion: the countdown to vacation, a birthday, the last day of school, visit from Grandma and Grandpa. Best of all, you can fill them with anything you like. (Bye bye to crappy tasting, non-fair trade chocolate.)

This set was made in red and white for my sister last year for Christmas. She just sent me pictures of it all strung up in her house. So cute. She filled the envelopes with little special toys and tree ornaments, instead of sugary sweets. Silver bells can be placed in a bowl on the hearth. After an envelope is opened, the kids can hang a silver bell up so that they see how many days are left and know which envelope to open next.

There are thousands of pictures of different varieties of advent calendars online and probably some good tutorials. Look around. Use your creativity. If sewing is not your thing, I bet you could figure out how to do it with glue if you’re clever, skipping the button. Mine are pretty Berkeley: recycled red felt from a support a local, mom-and-pop fabric shop.

I hope you find a way to get your craft on, too. Happy holidays, from Sri.

Advent Calendars

recycled felt
yarn
buttons
contrasting thread
silver bells or other item to hang on the button after opening

Cut 2.5in x 6.5in rectangles out of felt.

Measured down 1.5in from one end and affix a button loosely. Here, I used an assortment of various shades of green in slightly different shapes and sizes. Don’t make it too tight or it will be hard to wrap the yarn around it as a closure.

Then, fold at 2.5in from button end to make a pocket and a 1.5in flap. Blanket stitch around pocket sides and flap.

Sew a length of yarn to top center of flap. Wind yarn around button to close. Hang envelopes around a length of yarn over the mantel, down the staircase, etc.

I sewed on little numbers cut out of matching felt to count the days. Or, as a visual cue to know which envelope is next to open, hang something on the button, such as a bell or printed card.

In the winter season, the cold outside and the shorter duration of sunlight prompt us to bundle up, to stay in, to cozy up by the fire, to do less, to rest more. But, how often do we override our desire to shift our behavior? It’s easy to be tempted to fuel ourselves with caffeine, overcome the urge to rest and push ourselves to accomplish just a little bit more. I’ve caught myself looking at the clock to determine my bedtime rather than sensing within.  It takes an added level of awareness to observe how obtuse it really is to have all these electronic lights and gadgets glowing at us with ancient sunlight mined from the earth and piped in through electric currents.

Harvest is over. Those plants that will thrive again next Spring have all withdrawn their energy from the branches and directed it back down to the roots. We would be wise to do the same.

Stop. Rest. Don’t overdo. Reflect.

I made a nice tonic chai tea using Chinese herbs and warm, wintery spices that can be enjoyed plain or with milk. On a naughtier day, I might add some black tea, but it tastes just lovely without.

Astragalus, or Huang Qi, has a sweet, almost licorice flavor. Studies indicate that it may stimulates the immune system and help the body withstand stress and extreme temperatures. Codonopsis root, of Dang Shen, is a sweet tonic herb which boosts the lung and spleen systems in TCM. It’s considered by some to be like a cheaper, less potent ginseng, with a shorter duration of effects. Cinnamon brings warmth and nourishment and even antidepressant qualities to the heart while aiding digestion. Cardamom is a delicious herb with the special quality of helping humans digest cow’s milk.

Winter Tonic Chai

small handful astragalus
2-3 codonopsis root
1/2 stick of cinnamon
4-5 cardamom pods
1-2 quarter-size slices of ginger
a few peppercorns
pinch turmeric
water
milk
sweetener, optional

Rinse astragalus and codonopsis and soak in cool water for a few minutes and rinse then again (this helps remove pesticides or preservatives in case your herbs are coming from Chinatown and may not be organic). Make an herbal decoction of these herbs by simmer them plus cinnamon, cardamom, ginger and peppercorns in water in a small uncovered saucepan for 30 minutes or until it reduces by about half (longer to get more effect). Add about half the quantity of milk back to the infusion with a pinch of turmeric and bring up to heat. Strain and serve. Sweeten, if desired. Serves 4.

p.s. Jaggery is my favorite natural sweetener because it has lots of minerals which lend it a nutty, rich flavor, almost salty. Palm sugar or honey also work nicely.

p.p.s. Use common sense with these herbs. Ginger, cinnamon, cardamom and turmeric are common kitchen herbs that are effective and safe for daily use. Use caution with tonic herbs such as codonopsis and astragalus. Most people should be fine with them on a regular basis. However, if you are on immunosuppressant drugs or already fighting a cold or flu, these herbs may not be appropriate. Ask your doctor.

From the Traditional Cooking 101 series…

Description: Good broth is more than just simmering bones and some veggie scraps. Participants will learn cooking principles to reap maximum nutrients. Recipes will be given; variations and herbal add-ins will be discussed. Following the presentation, we will share a meal.

Why broth? Nutritive bone stock is the foundation of low-budget, health-conscious meals and complex, gourmet cuisine alike. We will discuss the difference between throwing some bones and veg in a pot with some water and creating a truly healthful cooking base or sipping side. In particular, we will discuss how to draw the nutritive gelatin, collagen, calcium, magnesium, potassium and minerals out of the bones effectively and create a refined, delicious final product.

Why jook? Jook (or rice porridge, or congee) is an easy and adaptable recipe that can be eaten anytime. This Chinese breakfast staple can be adapted endlessly. The addition of herbs can make jook a medicinal meal. Made with or without homemade broth, savory or sweet, jook is a delicious way to boost the health.

Demonstration:

How to Make Broth: Kombu/Bone Broth

How to Make Jook: Nutritive Jook with Chinese Herbs

Menu:

Chestnut & Apricot Kernel Soup with Lotus and Cress

Seasoned Mushrooms and Greens over Nutritive Jook with Chinese Herbs

Fee: $30

Date: Sunday, December 4th, 11am-1:30pm

Location: Berkeley, CA

Space is limited. Please pre-register. Call 415.938.7421 to register or click below to pay and register online.

Postpartum mamas, bring your babe and learn some tricks to make it a bit easier!

The postpartum period is so much easier with a few tips and tricks up your sleeve! Class will include herbs and food cures that are easy to have on hand to self-treat.

Natural approaches to common concerns will be given: managing baby blues, natural pain relief, balancing appetite, toning the abdominal muscles and pelvic floor, lactation issues, prevention and home treatment of mastitis, strategies to maximize rest and minimize stress.

For new moms and moms-to-be. Bring your partner.

$35, but partners attend for FREE.

When:  November 20, 2011 12:30-3:00pm

Where: Berkeley Yoga Center

call 415.938.7421 to register or click below to pay online.

The food and sustainability movement is happening, and its big. Bigger than my vegetable garden and 8 chickens, but I’m part of it. I’m sure freedom has many definitions, but feeding your family and friends is certainly one of them.

My boy knows that breakfast means dancing outside–coat over pjs–to see if the chickens have laid yet, picking some herbs and veggies, and bringing his choices to me at the stove. To him, food does not necessarily mean a trip to the store.
This is achievable for everyone, even folks living in an apartment. Anyone can grow a little something, even if it is just a pot herb.

That’s part of why everyone loves to visit the chickens. We all know our collective agrarian history is not so far behind and visitors always ask the same questions, seemingly plotting their own dreamy coop of the future.

“Is it a lot of work?…does it stink?…are they loud?… are they gross?… and what about the poop?!”

Well, its easy. No, it doesn’t really stink. House policy is that roosters, once identified, are soup. (Though, that last one hasn’t been tested, yet.)

It is all about design, design, design. We have a small yard. We live in an urban area. We’ve got neighbors. We know that chickens live 10 years and we didn’t want this experiment to suck.

With this in mind, we carefully designed our coop by looking at 8 million pictures on Backyard Chickens while we planned. No plans, just pictures and late nights with paper and pencil at the kitchen table. And some minor arguing, you know, ’cause its marriage. We thought about convenience for cleaning, maximizing yard space and making it easy in case we needed to get in there and chase one of them around.

It is 1983. Mom has us 3 kids plus a job and Dad is out of the house at work all day. She’s the one who puts breakfast, lunch and dinner on the table amidst chaos and deadlines and responsibilities. And she’s doing it on a budget.

Its a Tuesday in this story. In the morning, she pulls a whole chicken out of the freezer and sticks it in the sink. FDA and their recommendations about thawing food in the fridge be damned: Mom needs that bird defrosted and in the oven so it will be done when Dad gets home from work, the hungry teenagers roll in starved from track at school and definitely in time to give the preschooler (that’s me, by the way) a full belly and then off to bed.

Afternoon rolls around and Mom’s back from a few after-work errands. That bird’s thawed and has gotta get in the oven. But, a woman’s voice is hollering through the screen door. Suzanne, Mom’s pal, has stopped by just like that. Its 1983, remember? It was ok back then, we didn’t text in advance.

Suzanne wants Mom to come with her…”and c’mon, you have two hours until the other kids come home. Bring A.S. in the back.” (Nobody called me Sri then.)

Mom had a lot of responsibilities, but she wasn’t going to miss out on life because of them. But what about dinner?

True story, remember? With one hand, she picked up the defrosted chicken by the leg. With the other hand, she opened the pot. The bird went right in without spice or ceremony. She closed the lid and put the whole thing in the oven and set the heat and walked out the door.

“Done,” Mom said, grabbing her keys.

Suzanne said, “That looked like something Carol Burnett would do.”

In my herbal practice, I think of this story all the time. In every initial appointment comes the dreaded question: will you describe your typical breakfast, lunch and dinner?

Seriously. People would rather describe the color and texture of their poop than come clean about the crap they are eating. Don’t even get me started about the answers I get to the question of how often people eat out.

The bottom line is this: too many people are not eating real food, or they are paying someone else to make it. And 90% of the time they have an excuse. It’s either, “I don’t know how to cook!” or “I’m too busy.”

This is bunk. So I took myself to task and made Carol Burnett chicken to prove that cooking can be easy, fast and delicious. After all, mom told me this story over the phone when I was in my first apartment and trying to figure out how to feed myself. I think she added that you can tell a chicken is cooked by wiggling the leg and seeing if it is loose and looks like it wants to come off and get eaten up right then and there.

The final product was juicy, flavorful and tender. It was better than good and that mattered because when I started the process, I had forgotten there would be dinner guests. Though, I have to come clean about one thing. I added salt and pepper. I just couldn’t handle possibly wasting an entire chicken and subjecting my guests to what possibly may have come out a bland, unevenly cooked mess. Turned out, it would have been just fine without.

Since I had company, I spruced it up a bit for the table by opening a jar of my homemade (also ridiculously easy) preserved meyer lemons (the plain kind) to serve on top. I served a nice crusty, artisianal bread, a simple salad and some braised greens from the garden. A bottle of wine. Finger-lickin’ and I spent less than 20 minutes in the kitchen.

This proves it. I am no longer accepting the “I don’t have time” or the “I don’t know how” excuse. Clients be forewarned that you will be referred to this post.

Oh and leftovers? This chicken could have been cut up and dropped into broth with veggies as soup, or chopped up and mixed into a salad, or stir-fried with noodles and seasoned with garlic, ginger and lime and squirted with soy sauce. The carcass got simmered with a splash of wine and whatever scraps I had.

This cooking stuff CAN be easy. Take it from Carol Burnett.