food

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    Mountain Hermit Meal Paid Member

    I once had a boyfriend who wore a pair of wrinkled trousers he’d had in his possession since junior high school. They were a perfectly nice pair of trousers—for a hobo about two inches shorter than he was. I objected. Invoking the great Tibetan saint, he used the Milarepa Defense: Cling to worldliness and acquire sins. He recounted the story of how when Milarepa’s sister gave the naked sage a robe, he sewed little coverings onto it for “all of his main protrusions,” his fingers and toes and one for his penis. These little hoodies were enough for Milarepa, so a 20-year-old pair of highwaters was enough for my friend. More »
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    What's for Dinner? Paid Member

    First, seventy-two labors brought us this food; We should know how it comes to us. —Zen meal gatha (verse) More »
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    A Thoughtful Brew Paid Member

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    Food for the Gods Paid Member

    If you’ve ever been to an elaborate Tibetan ceremony—a drupchen, a wedding, a New Year’s party (Losar)— you know these events usually involve hours upon hours of sitting, either on a cushion or against a wall, until your legs go numb. There might be some singing. It might sound like cats in heat. But there is usually a payoff at the end. More »
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    Curds and the Middle Way Paid Member

    Curd. It’s not a pretty word. It brings to mind tea accidents, milk slipped into lemon infusion, coagulation, spoilage, and mysterious nursery rhymes involving innocent girls and dangling spiders. But I began using the term with regularity during an extended stay in Bodhgaya, India. More »
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    Tasting Darkness Paid Member

    WHENEVER I SIT WITH a bowl of soup before me, listening to the murmur that penetrates like the far-off shrill of an insect, lost in contemplation of flavors to come, I feel as if I were being drawn into a trance. The experience must be something like that of the tea master who, at the sound of the kettle, is taken from himself as if upon the sigh of the wind in the legendary pines of Onoe. More »