WW: Sun in the forest

Product Review: Dharmacraft Classic Buckwheat Hull Zafu

One of the hallmarks of eremitical monasticism is its visceral anti-materialism. It's not that hermits never buy things, we're just deeply suspicious of the impulse.

Thus, our practice-related purchases must pass rigorous muster:

• They have to be truly necessary.


• They have to be unencumbering: no dragging things across the surface of the planet just to establish credibility with others.


• They have to be non-habit-forming: no adding things you will soon find yourself unable to practice without. 


• Buying has to be demonstrably more economical than making.

That's why in almost 7 years I've posted exactly one product review. And it's no coïncidence that it's for a different sort of the same item I'm reviewing today.

I received my Dharmacraft Classic Buckwheat Hull Zafu almost 15 years ago, as a birthday gift from my mom. (Yes, hermits have moms.) And it's still going strong.

Prior to that I sat on a zafu of rolled-up bath towels, bound together with twine and forced into a tight-fitting cover sewed from scrap material. It got the job done, and I still use it as a spare today.

However, the rolled towels pack down and get hard with use, making long sits, or multiple short ones, painful to my hip joints and back. So after a year of consistent meditation I decided to add a classic Japanese meditation cushion, or zafu, to my practice.

Research determined that I didn't have the sewing skills to make a reliable one, and that, combined with the cost of materials, justified buying a well-made commercial alternative.

Hence, my Dharmacraft Classic Buckwheat Hull Zafu.

This cushion – Dharmacraft's basic model – enables me to sit for long periods with minimal discomfort. (Its buckwheat-hull stuffing is kinder to long sits and my aging frame than the slightly less-expensive kapok model.) I've used it intensely for a decade and a half without drama. (Just dharma. Zen dad joke, there.) My single criticism has since been resolved: the old model I've got has to be unstitched to add more buckwheat and then sewn back up. But a zipper on the current design eliminates even that annoyance.

In fact, the basic item is now a natural cotton insert zipped in a washable cover. (Mine is sewed into its cover, meaning that you have to cover the cover to protect it from dirt and wear. I eventually tied it up in a cloth bag, which works perfectly, but all of the other monks laugh and call me names.)

The current iteration comes in a large array of colours – and even combinations of colours – and goes for $69.00 US from their website at this writing. Cheap at the price for serious practitioners of Zen, at least for those of us who sit lotus.

You might say, it's the basis of practice.

WW: Advent on the North Coast

(Japanese maple [Acer palmatum] in December colours.)

Benedictine Kyôsaku

"If someone would ask me, 'Who is the more important one, Jesus or Buddha?', I would say, 'You are the most important one.'"

Brother David Steindl-Rast, Zen-trained Benedictine monk.


(Photo of the Benedictine brothers of St. Benedict's Abbey, Atchison, Kansas, demonstrating proper monastic attitude courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and a generous photographer.)

WW: Banana slug

(Ariolimax columbianus)

Hermitcraft: Mexican Hominy Stew

Here we are at the holidays again, for some reason, which means that many of us will soon confront daunting quantities of leftover turkey. (Not so fast, vegans. Keep reading.)

You know who the all-time leftover turkey champions are? The Aztecs. Which is no great surprise when you figure they invented turkeys.

So this year I thought I'd share one of my favourite recipes. Its lineage goes straight back to the First Nations of Mexico, and uncoincidentally it's one of the best leftover turkey dishes ever devised. This stew is in fact so good you may find yourself unenthusiastically masticating that first-run serving, unfavourably comparing its drab, insipid presentation to the feast you will soon make from its scraps.

And the awesomeness of Mexican Hominy Stew doesn't stop there. Because this is mom's-kitchen fare, you can make it with just about any meat, or even (here it comes, vegans) no meat at all. (See after-recipe comments for Quick and Deadly Vegan Hack.) In fact, most ingredients can be swapped and subbed as necessary, resulting in full-spectrum dining dominance for this delicious comfort food.


MEXICAN HOMINY STEW

For 6:

2 rashers of bacon

1 good nopal, sliced (substitutes: chopped green bell pepper or cabbage; whole green beans; sliced celery; cubed pumpkin)

1 medium-sized yellow onion, sliced in wedges

1 fresh or jarred jalapeño, chopped well

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

two 16-ounce cans of diced tomatoes, or equivalent fresh, chopped

1 16-ounce can of hominy, drained (substitute: sweet corn or diced potatoes)

1 quart of chicken or vegetable stock

2 teaspoons of ground cumin

1 drop of liquid smoke, optional

1/2 teaspoon of thyme

1 large bay leaf

1 dried pepper, roasted (substitutes: 1 tablespoon smoked paprika, or ordinary paprika, toasted)

tomato juice or water

2 cups of roasted turkey, shredded (substitutes: cooked chicken, pork, beef, lamb, mutton, goat, sausage, hamburger; raw meaty white fish or shellfish; cooked beans)

lime juice

1/3 cup culantro, chopped (substitutes: cilantro, Italian parsley, celery leaves)

optional: queso Cotija, crumbled

1. Toast the dried pepper over medium heat in a dry skillet, turning frequently, till dark and crisp. Remove it from the pan and set it aside to cool. (Pepper will crisp even more as it cools.)

2. Medium-fry the bacon in a Dutch oven or similar. Remove, chop coarsely, and set aside. Pour the fat out of the pan.

3. In the residual fat left in the bottom of the pan, toss the onion wedges, crushed garlic, jalapeño, nopal, and cumin until the onion begins to turn translucent, about 5 minutes.

4. Add the thyme, bay leaf, tomatoes, hominy, liquid smoke, and stock. If adding soaked but uncooked beans, add them here as well.

5. Crush the roasted pepper as thoroughly as possible and add. (Shake out seeds first if desired.)

6. Add enough tomato juice or water to achieve stew-friendly liquidity.

7. Cover, bring to a boil, and reduce to simmer. Cook until the vegetables (and any soaked beans) become tender, about 30-40 minutes.

8. Add the turkey, bacon, and cilantro and cook till just heated through.

9. Sprinkle with lime juice, ladle into bowls, and crumble queso Cotija on top if desired.

Serve with hermit bread or sourdough corn bread (recipe pending).

NOTES:

• Quick and Deadly Vegan Hack: 1) sauté onion and nopalitos in a film of olive oil; 2) use vegetable stock instead of chicken; 3) replace meat with beans (black are especially good). So conventionally delicious you can serve it to meat-eaters and they'll never know it's vegan.


• If you let this stew sit for a day or two in the refrigerator before reheating and serving, it tastes even better. (Gives the flavours more time to mingle.)


• Don't overcook the meat after adding it; bacon in particular quickly turns to tofu if simmered too long.


• The recipe above is to my taste, which means it's pretty lively. I back off on the peppers when serving guests. In any case, know your dried peppers; some are hotter than others. Back off a bit when adding fish or shellfish, too; too much vegetable fire overwhelms seafood.


• Toast paprika by tossing it in a hot, dry skillet till dark.


• Cilantro is a chemically complex herb that tastes like soap to some DNA profiles. Unless you know that guests are in a non-soap population, it's best to avoid serving cilantro.


• Omit the cumin, thyme, liquid smoke, lime, and cheese – the peripherals, what – and you got the exact same recipe the Aztecs ate. Tell me that ain't awesome.

Roasting the pepper

WW: Touchable rainbow

(View from my desk a few weeks ago.)