BeyondZen

2016-03-15T00:57:00.000+09:00

Caroline Ishii. Photo by Paul Jones.

As I transition to a blog to reach a wider audience, I fell upon a blogging challenge, and loving challenges that keep on me track, here I go or grow as I often say. I will share my challenge with you, because that’s part of the exercise, and because I love sharing things that excite me. Here’s the challenge. http://goinswriter.com/confident-pro/#disqus_thread

March 14, 2016 (sorry, I started the original blog in Japan and I can't change the publishing date and time from Japan Standard Time. It is really March 14 in my time zone and world! See why I need help with my blog?!)

Assignment: Write a manifesto: a 500-word treatise on what you’re about. Then publish it.

As I understand it from what Jeff wrote, it’s a worldview, what gets under my skin, what wrecks me. The "why" is more important than the "what". It’s a short document that tells the world what matters to me and creates movement. Even if you don’t publish, perhaps you’ll want to do this one day, or now. Here goes!

Manifesto starts:

Love… My view is that one of the most important things to living is love, and not only the romantic kind, but all forms of love. For me that form is food, it always has been, from the first time my mother put chopsticks in my hand as a baby so that I could start feeding myself. And being the determined and smart child I was, I did exactly that, and haven’t stopped.

Respect and Equality… What gets under my skin is when I am not treated with respect and equality, and when others are not treated in this way too. I believe we are all equal inside, it’s our outside shells that differ, but seems to make such a difference. What if the only thing we could see of another was their inside and not their outside, no matter how beautiful and attractive, or ugly and repulsive they are? What kind of world would we have?

Racism and Prejudice.. In large part, I feel strongly about this because my father was born in Canada but as a young boy he was stripped of his possessions, education and forced into a prisoner-of-war camp during WWII because he was of Japanese descent. There was a lot of prejudice and fear at that time and although he was Canadian, because of his skin colour, he became an “enemy” of the people of Canada.

If you met my father, you would think this ridiculous, because he was one of the gentlest and kindest men around, and I doubt he changed much since he was a boy because he was always youthful to his last dying days when he was 88. He enjoyed doing things for others, and he loved to make people laugh. He loved to dance! He continued to be a happy spirit despite everything he had experienced.

I experienced my own share of racism and prejudice when I was a kid, but in a much milder and more discreet way than my parents, and that’s why as a kid it was harder to recognize. Often, the words wouldn’t match what I was feeling in my bones. Even today, although I am third-generation Japanese-Canadian, people will ask me where I come from, and when I say “Canada” or “Toronto”, they will ask, “but where do you really come from?”

When I was opening my restaurant in Ottawa, we found a great spot in Chinatown that had reasonable rent and good parking but I was reluctant to put my restaurant there because people would think that I was Chinese and making Chinese food instead of gourmet fine dining vegan food with international influences.

Asians are all not the same!... For some reason, from my experience, people often think that all Asian people are Chinese, or go to this as a first response, and see nothing wrong when you tell them you are not, like it doesn’t matter that they were wrong in their assumptions and they don’t apologize.

An astute media person told me that he was happy for me that I found a location for my restaurant and it must be nice to be “with my people”. WTF? I’m sure he had all good intentions, but that struck me like a dagger and I’ve always remembered it.

Words… That’s what words do, have the power to hurt and make you sad, but also can make you happy and provide comfort. And this is one of the reasons, I’ve had a fascination with writing, books and with people. As I little kid, I loved going to the library to take out books and would read one book almost every night, and sometimes all night until I would finish it. I would get caught up in the words and the stories, like a fly in a spider web, and I would be captivated until the first last word. I haven’t changed.

Artist or Writer… When I was young, I often said I wanted to be a writer or artist, because I also loved to draw and write. But each time I pronounced this loudly to my mother, she would said a firm “no, you’ll be poor, you can’t make money doing that!”

She only had two career options for me, doctor or lawyer, and one university, the University of Toronto. And when I went to college and for public relations, she was upset and embarrassed and told her friends that I was going to UofT anyway. So, one day, when my mother was out, I ran away from home and never came back.

It was not only this incident but I had a lifetime of abuse, physical and emotional, since I was little and refused to take it any longer. When I ran away and was on my own as a teen, it was scary but one of the happiest moments of my life. For some reason, I knew I would make it, nothing would be as terrible as living in fear, pain and shame.

For the first time, I had freedom and control over my life and I have never forgotten how sweet it tasted it the first time. Sometimes when I feel I have lost freedom and control over my life, and lose my way, I remember freedom is there waiting for me, as it always has been, like a faithful dog waiting for its master to come home and take it for a walk.

With my mother long gone, it is me that takes over her role and puts up the barriers and is the harshest critic of my life and who I am. It continues to be a journey to stand in my truth and power, embracing the good that she has given me and to let go of the bad.

This is why I want to share my story and journey with others, so that if one person can be inspired to make a change, to change that light switch on from darkness to light in their life, than I am happy.

Let go!... I went around trying to find other manifestos and wondering if I wrote enough, did I do it correctly, is there more to do, and I come back to this piece that I wrote easily and for fun, and it’s over 800 words already, so I will let it go for today. I have different themes for periods of my life, like fun, truth, freedom, love, and this period I am in is called the “fuck it!” period. I am a highly responsible, gentle and kind person so it’s kind of fun for me to say this out loud when I am working too much, trying too hard, or being too nice. I am letting go, as I am doing with a lot of things and people these days that are not serving me and bringing me joy.

Are you sometimes too nice of a person like me? What can you say “fuck it” to today and smile about?

Naked in Newark

2016-03-11T01:26:00.000+09:00

Getting ready to enter the hot steam room at King Spa

When I said I needed a massage and where could I go, Yuki said right away, “let’s go to King Spa in New Jersey. I think you’ll like it, it’s a Korean spa with different saunas and there is a good food." She knows that the food part is important to me and a good allure.

Next thing, we were running to catch the shuttle on Saturday morning in Korea town, the specific spot being where there is the Dunkin Donuts. When we got there, there was already a line-up forming of mostly Asian people. The people waiting were squished into a small white shuttle, which was more of a van, with the young woman beside me saying she was holding on with one cheek, and she didn’t mean those on her face. We had a good laugh about that. She said it’s a short ride and worth it. We both laughed and I couldn’t stop thinking of her hanging on with one cheek.

We arrived at King’s Spa in the Korean town of New Jersey, which was even bigger, then the one on 32^nd that I love. It’s quite the non descript large white complex. Upon check in at King Spa, we were given electronic wrist bands that open up a locker to store your things, and allows you to spend throughout the day without worrying about carrying cash. You are also given up a roll up with two towels and a large one size fits all t-shirt and shorts, which reminded me of being in prison, except they were pink, or being back in gym class in my public school where I had to wear rompers or generic gym clothing so as not to be too enticing to the opposite sex during gym class. The men were given white t-shirt and shorts.

One of the sauna caves

Inside one of the sauna caves with bags of mineral salts hanging

In the common areas, which are sprawling, all you can see is mostly pink and some white uniforms. This is where there are most of the saunas, which are different small caves with various properties, which are supposed to heal and calm you, from gold and herbs, to mineral salt, tea and infrared.

The one that intrigued and scared me the most my friends said was the hottest sauna and had warning signs all over it not to go in with medical conditions and such and a video in Korean of what it’s like inside, which looked like some short of torture chamber. A short elderly woman would hold the rope to the door and let people in and out in shifts, and the people going in and out had burlap bags covering them and some of them had cloths over their heads. What the hell I thought?! My friends asked if I wanted to try it. Well, I thought “no” and my mind started going crazy. What if it got too hot, what if I couldn’t breathe, what if I couldn’t get out easily? My friend Rudi said it’s his favourite and said, “Let’s go!” Before I could say “no”, I was following my friends, trying to find a burlap bag in some bins to put around me, and waiting for the women at the door so we could run in. And in we went into the inferno!

Hottest steam room at King Spa

Showing you the eggs that are cooked at the hottest steam room at King Spa

Inside it was dark and there were a few dozen people sitting around, most with burlap bags covering them. It was the strangest way to be in the company of people, all quiet, twitching from the heat, and heating up or should I say burning up.

Then all of a sudden, the door opened and in came a man covered head to toe in dark clothing with rubber boots and thick rubber gloves, carrying a large empty box. What?! He reached for the cartons of eggs high up on a ledge in the dome, there were about 12 cartons on each side of the dome, and he put them in the box, and then left. What?!

I was so mesmerized by this, that I didn’t realize that my legs were heating up so much from the floor that I was having difficulty sitting, and I wondered how long I could take it. I was relieved when my friends left shortly afterwards, and followed them. I didn’t want to seem chicken but then again I didn’t want to fry either, a fine balance!

When we got out, I asked my friends about the eggs. We returned our burlap bags and they asked if I wanted to try some? What? They heat up the eggs for a few minutes, and bring them to sell right away in the juice bar beside it. We had some with our juices, and they were incredibly hot to peel, hard boiled and delicious. We started to wonder out loud if these eggs were hard boiled in a short time then what about our insides? How long would it take for them to get hard boiled or burn? We looked at each other and I didn’t want to give it much more thought than that because thinking that we could have fried our brains in there wasn’t a pleasant thought. Many people go into the ice cave after that, but it reminded me too much of being at home so I wasn’t eager to do that. Instead we relaxed a bit and then tried other caves like the mineral salt one with bags of salts hanging from the dome. It was fairly warm but nothing as hot as the hottest one we had been into. I could actually lie down on one of the mats and relax.

The difference from most spas I’ve been to is that there are both sexes but mostly women, a variety of ages but more teenagers upward, no children. There are a lot of areas for different forms of entertainment, from playing mahjong and chess, to desks where you could use computers. There are also areas where you can lounge, or most people sleep, in comfy lounge chairs and either there was a Korean movie playing or sports like golf, and this is where most of the men were hanging out. Surprised?

One of the most popular areas is the eating area. There are a variety of Korean dishes to choose from. I selected my dish… veg bibimbap and all the side dishes that come with it and I love about Korean food… swiped my wrist band so they could record the payment and I was given a buzzer for when it was ready for pick up. It was quite the military-like operation run by a team of women who were hard working and stern. The food was plentiful and yummy!

Eating area at King Spa

Waiting for my buzzer to go for lunch

bibimbap at King Spa

In the women’s change room, there is one area where you put on your jail clothing, as I called it, and there is an other area that is mandatory nude and you are not allowed to bring in towels, well the small one but it’s not to cover up your body being no bigger than a dish cloth, more for washing and covering your head. This is area for showering and you can go into the hot tubs and wet sauna.

I waited nude in the hot tub for what my friend Yuki called a wet massage and scrub, which she loves and I was looking forward to as my body and mind needed relaxing. I was surprised to see some women running around in black bras and underwear and I wondered who they were and why they were allowed to wear some clothing. When my name was called and one of these women ran up to me to follow her, I quickly figured out that these women were the massage therapists.

I was taken to an open area with about six tables covered in heavy pink plastic. The woman knew no English except to say things loudly and firmly like “lie face up.” Ok, I thought, now what? Well she started throwing warm water on me with pails. Ok, good thing I didn’t have my mouth open I thought. Next she brought out the loofa and scrubbed me all over like a baby but not with baby strokes, it felt more like with rough sandpaper and she was doing home renovations. You can’t be shy with this as she goes all over the body, telling you in broken English, “go on side”, “move leg up”, “turn around” or would push my body part firmly to where she wanted it to go.

To be honest, it was kind of excruciatingly painful at times and I almost wanted her to stop and other times it was almost bearable, but I wouldn’t say it was pleasurable and fun, unless you want to know what it feels like to be a piece of furniture that is being stripped of paint, and in my case, old debris and cells. Most of the time, I tried to close my eyes and keep them covered with a small towel because I didn’t want to look at this women in her bra and underwear scrubbing my body hard like she was in the body washing Olympics or look at the others beside me being cleaned in various positions and acting as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

At one point, she put on a face mask made from fresh cucumbers she grated on the spot, and that was nice, along with a scalp massage that was almost relaxing. It was a welcome relief from the pain. At one point, she told me to go to the shower to take off the cream on my face and debris, and go into the steam room for five minutes. Rest alas! Just when I was enjoying the calm and thinking what would be next, the woman, I don’t even know her name, with the black underwear and bra, opened the steam room door and motioned me to follow her.

Ok round two, more warm water thrown on me like I was in the bow of a boat, and here was the fun part, the massage. Not the usual relaxing massage experience I’m used to with dark lights and candles, soft music and the firm but gentle hands of the masseuse. Instead you get bright lights overhead, tables beside you with other people nude and being cleaned or massaged, lots of loud voices of people talking in the background as this is a fairly open area, and the sound of scrubbing and water being thrown on your neighbours. And then there is a woman in the black underwear and bra kneading you firmly and everywhere, taking out any knots and sometimes it feels like some skin too. Again, I heard no crying or in pain so I assumed I was being a wuss, and I shut up and tried to enjoy the ride. It was ok at times, but for the most part, I would be lulled into a false sense of security, and then it would hurt again.

At one point, she told me to sit up, did a few slaps on my back and then it was over. “Ok thank you,” I said sheepishly and left. I felt beaten up and exhausted.

I put on my pink uniform and went to find a lounge chair and fell asleep for what seemed a long time, and each time I tried to get up, I couldn’t. I felt like I was drugged and each time I would wake up I would see different people before me or beside me. A young Korean couple beside me holding hands, eating hot sauna eggs, and watching a Korean movie on the laptop together, young men in front of me on their phones texting, elderly women fast asleep, friends playing mahjong, and me. I realized this was like a community centre of sorts, where people could hang out for the day, with family and friends.

King Spa is open 24 hours, so if you had a stopover in NYC or Newark, instead of getting an expensive hotel room, I wondered if you could just come here and relax instead? Or if you finished a late shift at a restaurant, this might be just the thing to relax and unwind. Or if want to get rid of some dead skin cells, get kneaded, have water thrown on you, and have bibimbab or bulgogi with kimchee afterwards, this is the place for you!

At one point, I thought it was probably time to find my friends, so that gave me the motivation to get up from my comfy lounge chair. Yuki asked me how it was, she looking as tired as me. I was too shy and tired to tell her much. I said it was good but kind of painful. She has this water massage and scrub often and she loves it, it is not painful at all to her, so two different people and experiences.

I have to say, my skin is baby soft, my hair silky smooth, the knots and stress in my body gone, my digestion and body feeling better than it has all week, I had a great sleep, and I am kind of curious about trying it all over again, but not soon. I have to grow some new skin cells first.

Reunion with New York City and Blogging

2016-03-03T23:31:00.000+09:00

Caroline in Central Park New York City

March 3, 2016, plane to Newark, NYC.

I am out of captivity and flying again. This time to NYC for the 10-year reunion of my chef program at the Natural Gourmet Institute for Health and Culinary Arts.

My apologies for not writing sooner, to anyone out there who has been following me, but there have been many transitions in my life, among a major transitional period for me, and I have not felt settled or inspired to write.

I see that the last time I blogged I was in NYC last November. It seems like I blog best when I am travelling. I can blog at home but there is something about leaving the routine behind at home with all the expectations and hopes I have for myself, and setting out with a carry-on suitcase, my tablet, and my cell/camera, that is freeing.

This reminds me of the Netflix TV series About a Boy when the lead is babysitting his best friend’s little girl and she cannot go to the washroom, number 2, without her dad being there to hold her hand and sing her a song. It seems that way with blogging for me, in that I cannot produce a blog post without travelling, though I don’t want to equate with my blogs with turds!

I do want to equate travelling as my hand holding. It provides me with comfort and freedom at the same time. It’s like when my mom or dad held my hand when they took me to the playground when I was little, and then I let go of their hand as I ran to the tall slide or swings, looking back at them once in a while to see if they were still there. That’s how I feel about travel. I am supported by many and then I let go, running toward new adventures and journeys, which I am anxious to share with readers through blogging.

I’ve been busy working on publishing my book The Accidental Chef, with vignettes and recipes or I call taste memories from my life. I am also getting my web site and blog going in a bigger way, and have moved to Toronto to do this and take advantage of other opportunities. I love Ottawa and have spent decades there but felt it was time to be return to my roots, be closer to family and best friends, and take the next right step as Oprah would say.

"If you don’t know where to go, just take the next right step," advised Oprah in the talk she gave in Ottawa. I try to remember that when I’m confused or paralyzed by fear of making a big move, making a mistake, taking the wrong turn, and the inner critic starts taking control of the steering wheel, pushing me toward places that I don’t want to go.

Instead, lately, when I remember, I’ve been pushing the brakes, gently of course, thank the critic, and let myself out. I start walking, taking big gulps of fresh air so I remember I am free. I put my hands to my heart so I remember to listen to my heart and intuition. And I start taking the next right step. When I did this in January, I ended up in Toronto, and when I looked up again I was heading to NYC.

Free the vegetables!

2015-11-03T03:49:00.002+09:00

Lower east side Green market and me holding fresh local organic ginger while visions of dishes dance in my head!

I'm in NYC and I get excited each time I go to a local farmer's market and see the incredible produce, which is like a canvas of colours, textures and cooking and eating opportunities for me. As you can guess by now, vegetables are my friends, and I treat them with a lot of love and respect because I feel they are often misunderstood and mistreated. I sometimes feel I am the champion for them, perhaps I should start an organization, something like Free the Vegetables? There is a Vegetable Butcher at Eataly in NYC after all.

Pictures from the Green markets in NYC

Though, if I had to pick one vegetable that I love, and I have many, near the top would be kale. Well, first of all I think it's very Canadian. Sorry for people not Canadian that are reading this, but hear me out and you will understand.

Kale from left to right: curly, dinosaur, Red Russian

Red Russian kale

Kale can be surprisingly bitter at times, though aren't we all at times in our lives? But it is hearty, and you have to admire a vegetable that actually tastes sweeter after a frost. I'm not sure if I'm sweeter after a frost, but I certainly understand how to adapt and dress for it, unlike basil.

I love basil, but at the first sign of frost it is out of there with its bags packed for a sunnier, warmer destination. It might be the Club Med of herbs. It is highly attuned to the elements, especially cold, and most of us have had the experience of our basil plants dying a slow death inside, as did our visions of fresh basil in January, with its leaves dropping one by one. It longs for the hot sunny weather outside and it is not happy. It is not shy in hiding this fact.

There are many kinds of kale, two that I usually use, curly kale and dinosaur kale, called that because its spear-like leaves have a pebbled appearance that looks like the back of a dinosaur. Dinosaur kale goes by many other names like black kale, Tuscan and lacinato, but the kid in me always likes to refer to it as dinosaur or dino. Think of the first one as the stronger, bolder one and the other one as the softer, gentler one, both great but with two different personalities. I love both and use them differently.

There is also Russian Red kale you see once in a while, and though it is pretty with its purple tones and flat oak-like leaves, I don't use it very often. First of all, it's harder to find, and though it's prettier in a way and all kale is from the cabbage family, the ones I've tried really remind me of cabbage and if I'm going to eat cabbage, I'd prefer to eat cabbage.

Now if you're like me and can't resist the deal at the farmers markets and buy too much kale or other greens here's some ways I love to use it.

- Step 1. When you get a kale home, first tear off a small piece and eat it slowly. Enjoy it but also observe what it tastes like. Is it bitter, does it have some sweetness, or is it a combination of both?

I feel this is an important part of cooking well. You need to really understand and appreciate the ingredients you are working with. Every time you use a vegetable like kale, it is different, and therefore, if you use the same recipe and it turns out differently, this is part of the reason why. If you understand what it tastes like, then before you start the recipe, you might not decide to use as much sweetness if it is sweet already or might want to add more sweetness if it is bitter. Or if it's delicious already, you may decide to use it raw and forget about cooking it.

It may sound complicated, but it's not really. It's all about using your senses and cooking from the heart vs. the mind, and being present in cooking. A recipe is just a point in time, a guide book, a map, and what makes something great is YOU.

- Step 2. Ok, you now have this big pile of kale and don't make the mistake of keeping it in the plastic bag and cramming it into the fridge as I have done. These days, I'm trying to show more respect to the kale and at the same time allow more space in my fridge, which if like most, is probably over full.

Here's how. Take out the stems. Wash the leaves under cold water to clean and refresh. Greens love cold water. Spin or pat dry well with a towel. Chop into thin small pieces. Keep in a covered container. This won't take you so long to do, and you will have kale ready to go for the week for many purposes. And, if you have way too much kale or are going away before you can finish the container, then you can transfer the kale to a bag or container for the freezer.

- Step 3. Now, armed with a container of kale, here are my favourite uses:

- Salad. Toss it lightly with extra virgin olive oil, lemon or apple cider vinegar, a touch of maple syrup and a sprinkle of sea salt, Himalayan pink salt is my favourite. Now you mix it up with tongs or your hands. You can add what else you have on hand but not necessary. I often add goji berries or cranberries. Both kind of kale work well but I find you need less seasoning and mixing with the dino kind.

- Integrate raw kale with other things. Mix the raw kale into some finished grains, rice, salad or other dish for flavour, colour, and/or fun. But please keep the kale thin and small and do this at the end, to preserve the nutrition, colour and integrity of the kale.

- Saute. Put a pan on high, add oil, add the kale, after a minute or so (the time will depend on the size of the kale pieces and the kind of kale), add the minced garlic and a touch of vinegar, say red wine or apple cider, put on a lid and let it steam for a minute or so, take off the lid, and then take the pan off of the heat. That is my perfect kale, fried and then steamed. Please only a few minutes or less, kale doesn't like to be over cooked, yuck! The curly kale works best for this, though if you use the second, it is only seconds vs. minutes. It may be tricky at first, but you'll get the hang of it if you pay attention.

- Soup, stews, sauces. Throw into a soup, stew, curry or tomato sauce, but please do it at the end, so it doesn't turn out all grey and mushy, thank you.

- Smoothie. Throw into your next smoothie. The amount you use depends on the amount of kale you want. I like my smoothie with about 1/4 kale to fruit like an apple, banana and berries, but it's a personal preference. You know, some times you can have too much of a good thing!

- Freeze. And then when you're making a soup, stew, curry, smoothie, grains or other creation, you can put some in. Again, near the end of the cooking cycle please as they don't need to cook, just warm up.

- Pesto. I also like to make raw kale into a pesto, using a food processor is best, with some extra virgin olive oil and then I freeze it. Some times I add to the kale other greens from basil to arugula. I make it plain, so I can add it to many things like a tomato sauce, and store it in small containers or bags in the freezer.

Oh kale, how do I love thee, let me count the ways! I could go on about other ways like baking, dehydrating, using it as a wrap, pasta filling and other uses, but I wanted to keep it simple and speak from my own experience and life. I used to do many things with it at the restaurant but I also had a team of kitchen staff to help me, a continuous supply of ingredients at my disposal, and the motivation of having enough food for service (believe me, a big stress factor because it's always a guessing game!), so that was a different modus operandi and this is me now.

Do you have other uses fellow kale lovers? I'd love to hear from you, as always, much love, Caroline

Invincible summer

2015-10-22T11:06:00.000+09:00

I am excited and anxious when I get to the outdoor markets especially at this time of year. I love it, I know it won't last forever and I don't want it to end!

Perhaps it's like a summer-like day in the fall. We know that winter is coming and are anxious about it, but for that one day, it is summer and we try to savour each moment. It's like eating an ice cream cone on a hot day. We can hardly eat it before it melts and when we inevitably leave drops on our clothing, we are a bit annoyed but it doesn't last long because we need to get back to eating ice cream after all and it's beautiful day.

What if we were to live our lives this way? I recently read a lovely book called The Untethered Soul and when it spoke about this, it touched me deeply. I started to remember the things I wished I had said to people before they died, the things I wished I had said or done to make me a more caring and compassionate person.

I have little regrets and I am a kind generous person but I wasn't always like this. I was too scared and let others take the blame when I should have spoken up or let someone suffer when I could have taken the time to help them. I see now that not speaking up is as strong as action as speaking up. And the most important person that suffered through all this was me, and not speaking up for me.

The more I have taken the direction toward my heart and the truth of who I am, and living in courage and happiness vs. fear and anxiety, I feel like I am reading a epic book and I can't wait to get to the end. But not really. I don't want the end to be the end.

Now that I am finally settling in to living from the heart and being true to who I am, I feel like I am truly living and that life is so short. I realize that I can never be certain when I will take my last breath or it when it will be the last breath of someone I love. Why has it taken me so long to figure this out and not take this for granted?!

I meet young people that know how to live from the heart and truth at an early age and I am envious as it's taken me this long to figure out and I am still learning. But at the same time, I know that life will happen to them as it did for me - happiness and celebrations, bumps and bruises, and tragedies and sorrow - all tied up in a package we call life. Will they change as they grow older?

I feel like it's like a test for us. Can we grow to accept our imperfections that make us human or do we criticize them and compare ourselves to others, being our worst critics? Can we accept the deep challenges that inevitably touch us as part of living?

It's easy to "like" lovely verses that people post on Facebook on how to be a better person and how to make the world a better place. But to live them, fucking hard! Sorry, but sometimes, no other word seems to fit, and that is the truth of the matter.

If I had a magic wand, I wish we could all wake up and create the changes we want. I believe the world is waiting for us to do this. It's like we are in a deep sleep and want to stay in bed, snuggling in our warm duvets on a cold and blistery day like I love to do.

But what if we were to wake up, step out the door, putting on our clothes first or course, and realize that the day would bring us more warmth than we could ever imagine. In friendships, families however dysfunctional they may be, in connections new and old, in compassion for our fellow human beings, and deep gratitude for the precious life we have been given. What if?

I don't have the answers, but I find in asking the questions, I am getting more clarity breath by breath.

I love the Albert Camus quote:

"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”

I am home

2015-09-29T01:14:00.000+09:00

Floating at one of my favourite places at home... Meech Lake

I am home. Most recently from cooking on a small island north of Campbell River, BC called Cortes. I am back to Ottawa where I have been residing for a long time and where my possessions stay when I go off traveling.

In my travels over the past few years… visiting friends and relatives, couch surfing, house sitting, dog watching, cat chasing, and chef in residence stints at friends places where I cook for a place to stay… I have wondered where home really is.

I always thought it was a physical bricks and mortar location. I thought I was happy when I went from apartment to bigger apartment to home owner. However, there was always something bugging me about this as I wasn’t truly happier. In fact, I felt there were more stresses and pressures, of paying more rent or a big mortgage, of fixing the endless things that seem to go wrong or you want to ignore because it will involve more cash outlay.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my places and would spend lots of time agonizing over how to place things, what colour to paint the walls, finding the right accents, and going to Ikea to get the right storage device so I could make my places seem lighter and more open like in the catalogues. Looking back, it was a bit stressful to own so much, always wanting more, and finding ways to make more room for the things I did have.

When I decided to leave everything behind over two and half years ago... my home, my relationship, the restaurant, my career… it was a big decision but it didn’t seem as much as the right thing to do. I think most of the anxiety came in making the decision to do it, as is usually the case.

Everything became clear after my father's death. As would happen several times in my life, I was given the opportunity to wake up and start truly living my life, instead of listening to society's expectations of what I should be or giving into my fears.

With my dad's death, my heart broke and the sharp pain from the loss and grief was overwhelming at times. It felt like an open would, incredibly raw and tender, and I wanted to put a band aid over quickly it so others could not see it, including myself. But something inside me, told me to let it be exposed to the elements to heal, to breathe deeply, and I listened through the tears. And in doing so, breath by breath, I began to hear the quiet voices of the heart who kept on saying “come home” but I didn’t really understand what that meant.

Before my dad’s death, I wanted to live a more honest life and my word was "truth". In recent years, I've had words for periods of my life, as kind of a directional sign. I don’t like to lie, well I am prone to the little white lies like telling a friend that she looks great and everything will be ok when she looks horrible and you're really not sure what will happen.

Over time, I realized that I was a big liar! I was telling myself lies all the times!

I was lying about my life, who I was and what I could do. I loved parts of my life, but other parts not, and this was confusing and hard for me to come to terms with. My body started showing me the affects of this inner turmoil as it always does as the body does not lie. I want some sort of truth serum to set me free, release me from this life of lies.

I wanted to be happier, I needed to take care of myself, and I had to free my spirit, constricted by a demanding work life and relationship that was not working. I desperately wanted to hang on to the dream I had when I started the pop-up dinners and restaurant and craddle the baby that I created for me and the community. I felt there were no other choice but to be in relationship that was clearly beyond it’s best before date.

When I came back from Toronto after my dad's death, I did the thing that I most feared. I let go of my tight grip around these things that were depleting my energy levels and were not good for me anymore. And in doing so, I thought I would fall hard. I needed to let go of what I was so I could move forward into what I could become. Right, easier said then done! How does a caterpillar know when it's time to shed it's casing and become a butterfly? If it happens naturally, why can't we do the same when something or someone is no longer serving us? Perhaps we do have the same forces of nature and clues telling us to do something, but we choose to ignore them?

I started taking care of myself, loving myself and listening to my heart. It was hard work at first. I was resistant because I didn't truly love myself and therefore felt I didn’t deserve the nourishing things I was giving it. It was like a baby rejecting the milk of its own mother.

I am back home to Ottawa, but the greatest lesson I learned in all my wanderings and travels to date, is that home is where you are. I have been running away from home since I was a teenager and found safety then in that, and continued to repeat that pattern, thinking there could be danger in transitions as was the case when I was a teenager.

Only recently have I begun to understand how important transitions are to our growth and development, the spaces or pauses between things that seem solid and certain. In yoga, we are taught it's not only the asanas or poses that matter, but how we transition (thanks Phil!) and move with assurance and grace from one asana to another.

I have come home and am never leaving home wherever I may travel. hOMe.

Roots

2015-08-10T01:17:00.000+09:00

my dad George

One of the reasons I was attracted to go to Cortes Island, BC is because I have roots in the area. Many people on the island would ask me where I was from and I would say "Ontario but my roots are here", and they would give me a puzzled look.

I would explain that my grandfather bought an island in the early 1900s in the Desolation Sound area. It was one of the three Rendezvous islands. He chose the northern one and bought 250 acres for $3000. It is north of Cortes island and only 40 minutes by boat. After my grandfather bought the island, he sent for a picture-bride from Japan, and raised a family on there, including my father George.

My grandfather didn't know that WWII would break out and a government boat would come one day to say that Canada was at war with Japan and they were the enemy. They had one hour to pack their belongings and were taken away to holding stations in Hastings Park in Vancouver and later were moved to an internment camp in the interior. He was told that he would return one day to the island, but he was not allowed to after the war ended and they were released from the camp. Instead, he was given two choices, to go to Japan or go further inland. He chose Japan, believing that Canada did not want him, and returned to the village he was from with his family in tow. He hadn't realized that the village was destroyed during the war and there was nothing for him and his family there. My aunt Helen had married in the camp, and did not return with the family. She eventually ended up in Toronto and worked very hard to save every penny to bring back one family member at a time. That is how my father ended up in Toronto.

George and Suyeko

My mother Suyeko, or Suzie as she was known, has roots in BC too. She was born in Vancouver but her parents died when she was a young girl, and the children were sent to different homes to be taken care of. Suzie was the youngest of five and it was decided that she would be sent to the Japanese back country, or "inaka" as she used to say, to be taken care of by relatives. After the war, my uncle Yosh in Toronto found her and paid for her way back to Canada to be reunited with him and the rest of her siblings. In her twenties now, she made her way back alone by steam ship to a country where she was born but was forced to leave. George meets Suyeko, and thus I was born in Toronto.

I have always been pulled to go the west to explore and perhaps stay one day, but I didn't know when or how. This is one of the reasons I jumped at the chance to go to Cortes Island and work at Hollyhock. It would bring me closer to my roots and ancestors, and I have always longed in my heart for this, perhaps it is part of growing older and yearning to know your past.

I took the water taxi back to Cortes from Campbell River recently, and the owner-driver Regent said he remembered driving my relatives to the northern Rendez-vous island some 15 years ago. I told Regent I wasn't on that trip because the elders in the family, my father and aunt Helen, didn't want to go, and thus I decided not to go too, thinking that I could encourage my dad to return with me one day. I didn't want to go without him. My dad and aunt have now passed on and I could never encourage them to go with me. The youngest siblings, my aunt Joy and uncle Arthur, and their children went and reported back. They said that the resort that had been built there welcomed them and they explored the land with my aunt and uncle, who were young kids when they left and had fond memories of their time there.

With the visit of the Ishii clan to the island, some locals asked the government to change the name of the tip/cove where they settled to "Ishii" in honour of my grandparents. Regent said it had been changed on the newer maps. He said that the people who owned the resort then, sold it, and moved on and the land is divided up more.

He pointed to the map where the island was and then pointed in the direction of some mountainous areas in the distant. "That's the island over there," he said. I felt excited to be in the area that my grandfather had fallen in love with and to know that he had travelled and fished in these waters with my father George and his brothers, there were three and one that died and is buried on the island. The girls, there were two, stayed at home, helping their mom with the farmland and preparing lots of food to store in the cellar for the winter.

It's not as easy as I had originally thought to go to northern Rendez-vous island, although it's only forty minutes by boat from Cortes Island. But again, I found in being on the island and not from the island, many things were challenging. You either have to pay quite a bit to charter a boat or know someone with a boat. In a comforting way, I felt the presence of my ancestors and my roots, and that was enough for now.

The northern Rendez-vous island is in the distance to the left

When my relatives visited northern Rendez-vous island, the locals said there was a strange weed growing all over the island and they couldn't get rid of it. My aunt Tomo told them that it wasn't a weed but a Japanese vegetable called "fuki" and gave them instructions on how to cook it. My grandfather and grandmother had orchards and farmland so they could be self-sufficient, and this must have been one of the vegetables that they grew to give them a "taste" of Japan.

We leave roots in many ways when we leave a place that we love, and sometimes it's of the physical you can eat kind. It makes sense that my family who loved to cook, eat, and most of all share food, left something behind for others to eat. However, it would take some 60 years for others to discover it.

Fuki

Food evolution

2015-08-03T00:00:00.000+09:00

More photos of the dishes I created in the kitchen at Hollyhock centre on Cortes Island, BC and the beautiful English-inspired garden. Food is served buffet-style, often for 100 or more guests, with a short period to prepare and serve guests, often with a small kitchen team of varying skills. To keep the beauty and essence of the dish throughout service remains a challenge, but the taste, nourishment and love remains relatively the same.

Everything is changing all the time, you, me, the garden, the world, so why not a dish, evolving with each person that eats it? And instead of fighting it, of thinking my food would be more beautiful if plated, taste better only if I had a certain ingredient I can't get, and wishing I had more time and staff, I try to control the only thing I can, the present moment, breathe into it, and let go. Yoga practice has helped me a lot in cooking and in life. I learn every day from my cooking, and it's often not about the food. Food for thought.

Emotional suitcase

2015-07-30T11:30:00.000+09:00

More good wifi, more food shots to share. Who knew that a perfect pairing with good food would be wifi? It's not a given here, nothing much is, you can't expect the things that I have been accustomed to at home like reliable internet and cell phone coverage, a transportation system, stores to buy things at if you need something, services like a hair salon or health related services like a dentist, doctor or acupuncturist.

It's been great in some ways to help me save money because there is no where to spend it, and at the same frustrating to get basic things done like get your hair cut. How do people do it on the island? Well, there are a lot of women and men with long hair here, they find friends to help them for the most part or get it done when they get to the "mainland".

It's been a good lesson for me about what's important to me, what matters most, and it's sometimes not what I had thought. I encourage you to get away and have this kind of experience, even for a short period, or at least imagine it in your mind. What would be really important for you to have, what is a want, what is a real need? If you only had one suitcase to bring for several months what would be in it? If you were on an island like this, what would you miss most?

Everyone is different. For me, as soon as I got to the ferry terminal at Nanaimo, on my way for my quick getaway to Vancouver for a few days, I saw a Starbucks and had to get a latte. I wanted it. I did not need it of course, but it nourished me in so many ways. I have a lot of good memories at coffee shops. This is where I meet friends, go for a break during a busy day, and where wrote a lot of my book.

We eat with so many senses besides our taste buds, and it nourishes us in countless ways. Many times here, I've had presenters and guests tell me that they love my food, that they can feel the love and care I put into the food, they can taste the difference. And this makes me very happy, that I can transmit love to others through my food, thereby nourishing their bodies and souls, and in turn nourishing me. That's one of the intangible but important things that I need. It's in my emotional suitcase, the one that I brought with me and didn't have to pay extra for to check-in.

A few more photos to share, mostly of food, one of a cooking class on Japanese cuisine that I held in our kitchen..

Photo descriptors of the food, all vegetarian, and mostly vegan and gluten-free, with as much from the garden as possible, including the flowers, which are edible:

-Carrot-walnut cake with cream frosting, chocolate drizzle
-Cauliflower and pomegranate
-Garden veg with sesame dressing
-Garlic scape-zucchini bake
-Making garam masala for curry
-Rice-lentil pilaf
-Spinach mountains
-Pasta bake
-Yaki manju with red bean
-Cooking class on Japanese cuisine as part of the farm-to-table program
-Rhubarb-berry crisp
-Watermelon feta salad
-Green beans and rainbow chard
-Butter with lemon and garden herbs and blossoms
-Cilantro hot sauce
-Roasted beet salad
-Shepherd's pie
-Indian curry with yellow daikon and red beet pickles
-Coconut cake

Caroline cooks at Hollyhock...

2015-07-29T03:38:00.000+09:00

Well, I know you all want to see more of my food here, but it's a challenge for me because I don't have reliable internet at home, I have been working long demanding hours, it's so busy during my shift that I don't have much time to shoot photos, blah blah blah. But today the wifi connection was good for some reason, the first time in a long time. So before I head off to work, I wanted to share some food photos, my first attempt, so bear with me and wifi please hold on.

I serve daily anywhere from 50-140 in a buffet setting. For a dinner, I have to make in a few hours several courses with my small crew, including a main, sides, fresh bread (there are no bakeries on the island so we have to make our own and everyone seems great at it.. I'm learning), dessert from scratch. So it's not as beautiful and intricate food and plating as I'm used to and I like, but I'm trying to go with the flow, in both my cooking and life. It's a learning process!

However, I continue to try to make my food vegan and gluten-free as much as I can and provide good options for those who are when I can't. The food we serve is vegetarian with some fish and seafood. And I always try to cook with that magic ingredient I travel around the world with, love. Caroline

PS - I can't seem to attach descriptions to the photos and I know you want to know, so here you go..
- Strudel with raspberry-bumbleberry, whipped cream, coulis
- Summer lasagne with pesto-cheese, mornay, garden vegetables
- Carrots and chickpeas in a raspberry vinaigrette
- Green beans with slow-baked cherry tomatoes in a sesame dressing
- Chocolate brownie cake with strawberries and balsamic reduction, whipped cream
- Carrot cake with an orange cream frosting

Random words found

2015-07-26T15:58:00.001+09:00

Perhaps not so random as they seem to describe me...

I have nothing but everything

2015-07-08T00:22:00.000+09:00

"Travel light but there is nothing here," said a friend on Cortes. I was perplexed and frustrated by this but did as she told me to. In particular, because I had to take two planes, two ferries and cross over two islands, some of it hitch hiking because there is no transportation system here, no taxis, no shuttles. This is the way.

I was a bit hesitant at first and shy about hitch hiking being a city gal and having an overactive imagination but if that's the only way to get around the island, you have to do it and locals are happy to pick up people and transport them. They realize this is part of the responsibility of owning a car on the island, which seems like a luxury when you are walking or biking the hilly terrain to get to where you want to go. And this is part of living in community and in a human eco system where people talk to one another to get things done and want to make each other's lives easier.

Also, like most islands, and it is no different here, either the island likes you or it doesn't. If it likes you, then things come your way easily and if it doesn't, it spits you out and wants to leave as soon as you can. I am usually a positive person, though can have my moments of self-pity and victimhood like everyone else. I wanted the island goddess on my side, think she's a woman, so I prayed a lot to the island goddess and whoever to help me if I am to be here. I am spiritual but not a religious-must-go-to-church person, but I figure that prayer is like the icing on the cake. If it can't hurt, and might just help, why not try it? And the goddess keeps on saying "yes" loud and clear "you need to be here" and keeps on showering me with opportunities and gifts.

I have been blessed by many opportunities in my life and am grateful, or in other words, as my friend Angela says, "you have a horseshoe up your ass". I've had my share of painful and sad moments in my life, but I tend not to dwell with on them, and I realize as the famous author CS Lewis says, that you can not experience happiness without the sadness, it is both sides of the same coin. I believe that and these learnings, however frightening and painful they might be for me at the time, have made me stronger and what I am today. I have no regrets, or very little. Also I get by with a lot of support from my good friends, therapists, healers, the universal forces whatever they may be (not quite sure about who is out there but I believe there is someone out there) and most recently I am learning to become my best friend and be there for me instead of walking away, which I have often done in the past.

I really wanted to bring my bike but it was impossible with all the travelling I would be doing to get here. I just couldn't picture myself with my baggage and bike, so I had to sadly leave it behind. I thought the place I would be staying at would be close to work but it is a good 40 minute walk in the country with no lights. I work very early day shifts, starting at 5:30 am, or evening shifts, starting in the early afternoon and closing around 9 or 10 pm. I was anxious about getting there and back because I would be walking in pitch dark on new terrain with only a headlamp. When I told my boss about my concern, she said, "you have a flashlight right?" It wasn't in a mean or condescending way, but it was practical, direct and honest advice. The way around here.

After staying in this victimhood for a few days, and waiting for some miracle to save me in a more whiny way, I got more present and real. I needed a bike! Actually, I got one initially from a friend of a friend in Ottawa, but it was too small for me and rusty and painful to ride. So the first part of trying to manifest anything I realized is that you need to be specific. I started asking for a bike in Ottawa and got one, miraculously just down the street from where I am living here, but I didn't put in important words like in "good working condition", "fits me", "I can ride easily". You make think this is here say but those in the know will be nodding in agreement.

There are no towns on Cortes Island, only a few stores, and certainly no bike or other store where to buy or rent a bike. There is not even a bank. So I did what people do here, I started talking to people and asking them where I could get a bike, to spread the word. In a small community, it's like that phone tag game, and if you want something spread then say it to one person, and if you don't want something spread then keep your mouth shut.

By the end of the day, I had a great bike delivered to me that I was renting for the season from "the bike guy" on the island. He's the one people ask for help with their bikes, everyone knows that and all roads so to speak led me to him. He says he does carpentry work, but there is a need for people to repair their bikes and so he does it on his off time. He doesn't make much money at it, but he does it because it is needed. I hear that a lot from people here, they want to help others where and when needed, their community. A friend had her bike not working and he came to repair it at her place. When she asked him how much, he knew she didn't have a lot of money and said don't worry about it, just pay it forward. There are a lot of big hearts on the island, and the bike guy is one of them. Considering that he has a family with a wife and three kids to support, he needs money but it's not his main motive.

I'm learning...

- To manifest what I want, be exact though, and it won't work if you don't truly believe and trust in the process.
- With manifestation, there must be actions as well. You can't just sit there and wait, although sometimes things come unexpectedly.
- Ask around for what you want with an open heart. The big ask, as they say in fund raising. Though understand that you may get what you need and not want you want, from my experience.
- Get it, be grateful, and pay forward this good fortune and karma, or whatever you call it.

Island magic or perhaps magic that is there for us wherever we may live and dream.

Kitchen with a view

2015-06-30T13:54:00.002+09:00

This is my kitchen home and it's one of the most beautiful I've worked in. It's at Hollyhock centre on Cortes Island, BC. There are I'm sure better, greater and bigger kitchens with the latest equipment and gadgets, but does it have... an incredible view of the ocean and mountains, and windows so you can have the smell of the ocean waft in? a beautiful French-inspired organic garden/farm right outside the door where you can stroll for your produce and herbs? wooden counters, shelves and tables that remind you of an old country kitchen but with professional equipment and pantries stocked full of ingredients? cooks who have interesting hobbies like goat herding, book writing, playing music and cheese making in their spare time? people visiting who are coming to change themselves and the world? This is my world and I wanted to share a glimpse of it. Hollyhock (www.hollyhock.ca) is a non profit educational institute dedicated to personal, professional and organizational development that advances consciousness, connection and learning toward solutions for a better future. For over 30 years, it has been a special magical place, nestled between the forest and ocean on the south eastern tip of Cortes Island, BC, about 160 kms north of Vancouver. It is run by paid staff and a volunteer service program.

Caroline on Cortes

2015-06-26T13:57:00.000+09:00

It is 3 pm and I just finished my day shift in the Hollyhock kitchen, which started at 5:30 am, with breakfast and then lunch service for 135 people.

I am sitting at the wooden table in the incredibly beautiful Hollyhock garden, filled with flowers, produce, and herbs. Any photos I take never seem to do it justice, the incredible beautiful of it all. It reminds me of the famous Tangled Garden by MacDonald, but prettier, and if we understand gardening we know that messy English gardens are actually well planned out gardens. This garden reminds me of people of Cortes and living here. There is structure but wildness at the same time. Like anywhere else, people have jobs, go to work daily like, they try to make ends meet, and they often take care of kids and extended families.

But at the same time, there is a sense of wildness and freedom to the people here and their lifestyles, and that's why they are attracted to here or perhaps the island was attracted to them and has held them captive. I often hear people coming here for a short time, but stay because of the incredible beauty of the scenery and nature. It's like a god or goddess, seducing you at every turn, enticing you to watch his or her movements and come play outside in its beauty. And because they are captured by its beauty, they will do whatever they can to stay on the island. So this love comes first, and what they do, secondary. They work to live on this island, and if the island gods or goddesses like you, they reward you, but that's another story.

I have several pantries from where I gather my ingredients and inspirations to cook from, but the garden is by far my favourite and the one I am most giddy about. I love meandering the garden seeing what is there and talking to the farmers about what is at its peak and needs to be used right away, what is coming up and what they grow all season. I love that it's not just a garden but the produce and herbs and interspersed among all the flowers, which are used to decorate the centre and rooms, and we can use in our food as well, which I adore doing. It's not exactly a farm, more like an edible garden. Because there are hundreds of flowers and many of them edible, I need to consult with the farmers for the size, taste and colours. There is actually list that is posted we can refer to. I've always loved using flowers to decorate with and be part of the food, so I am excited by this.

Farm-to-table cooking is one of the reasons I was attracted to Hollyhock. I've always loved the concept and we tried to do that at the restaurant, but to actually live and work in a place where the farm is right out the back door and works in sync with the kitchen is special to say the least. I get to see what is growing every day, and talk to the farmers about what I want harvested for the next meal and how much. When my delivery comes in just picked, with some remnants of the earth like dirt and ear wigs or worms, it feels like the stork bringing in a new delivery and I am excited. I had thoughts about what to do with it before, but actually seeing, feeling and tasting the produce inspires me often to do something different. For example, I asked for some rainbow chard, and when I saw it come in this morning, it was so incredibly beautiful I couldn't bring myself to change it by cooking it, so I decided that I would slice it thinly and keep it raw, and then I cut up the chard stems in a spiced hot oil mixture, which I put on the greens so that they deflated it slightly but kept it's character. It's really important for me to keep the character of produce in particular and I hate when it's over cooked or over touched so you can't recognize it or it loses it's original character and personality.

And because almost outside the kitchen door is the ocean, you could say there is ocean-to-table, or should I say ocean to people. Once a week, they bring the guests down to the beach by the ocean for a pre-dinner oyster reception. There are also loads of calms on the beach and we have a salmon dinner once a week for guests. Besides this, the kitchen is mainly vegetarian and mostly vegan and gluten-free when I cook :). Hollyhock's mission is to nourish, inspire and support people making change in the world. I love that my food is part of this equation.

2015-06-16T12:04:00.000+09:00

I am the sky and everything else is the weather. Pema Chodron

Wheels up, I am off to the west coast for the summer! What? Where to now is the usual reaction from my friends, more in excitement and curiosity than in disapproval or criticism, and that’s why they are my friends.

One of the things I’ve learned along the way, and it seems simple but actually quite hard to do because it takes awhile to get to know the true nature of people, is that you need to surround yourself with positive people that will support you for who you are, and want the best for you. In short, good mirrors, because I’ve had my share of distorted mirrors.

I got back to Ottawa from my travels to Whistler- Japan-Hawaii, and got a yummy offer to cook food at the Hollyhock retreat centre (www.hollyhock.ca) on Cortes Island in BC. Hollyhock is dedicated to inspire, nourish and support people making the world better, with a wide array of conferences and programs.

As usual when I take a new direction, it’s easy to say “yes” to it at the time, but it may take a few steps. In my case, it’s two planes, two ferries, a few shuttles and car rides, and a big leap of faith.

I am nervous. What about you may wonder? Everything. It’s been hard to leave for me to leave my past behind, my reputation, my cred behind in the city where I gained them, and start afresh and recreate, even though I have yearned to go out west for awhile and am excited by it.

I am heading to a place that seems far away and remote, and I don’t know much except that people say it is incredibly beautiful. I had signed up for a meditation retreat with Michael Stone at Hollyhock last summer but had to cancel, and I wondered when I would be able to return. Like many, I had heard about Hollyhock and wanted to go there one day. Well the one day is today!

When I asked my friend who is working at Hollyhock what I should pack, she said to travel light, you have everything you'll need here but there is nothing much on the island. I didn't really get this but I packed rather lightly anyway because I knew it would be hard enough to get there, never mind carrying a lot of luggage. And I knew I would find out over time what she meant.

I hope you’ll join me, virtually at least, on this journey. I can’t wait to share it with you!

Pause where it is blooming

2015-06-09T01:59:00.001+09:00

Free yoga on Parliament Hill sponsored by Lululemon on Wednesdays!

I come back to Ottawa from my travels and it is in full bloom, and I love that. I love how the city comes alive in the summer, not only the weather and nature, but it seems that even the people come alive as well from the deep freeze of winter.

With the arrival of summery weather, I feel a collective sigh of relief. It's like we are children again, barefoot and running through the grass into the sunshine and laughing.

We just can't get enough it and we appreciate it so much. That's the thing that's great about living somewhere like here, the appreciation and gratitude we have when the weather is nice, and the summer comes. The thing is we know it won't last, that it is has a time limit, and it will disappear so quickly.

And because we understand this, we tend to make different choices from the winter. We might put off some paperwork to go out to a patio for drinks with friends, just because we know it won't be forever. We might take up a friend for an offer to go to the lake for a swim or to a cottage though we had some other plans. We might take a break from our chores and go outside for a walk before the sun sets.

I love strolling the streets, because that's what we do in Ottawa in the summer, stroll. I believe we have different steps or beats here for different temperatures. You might not get this if you're in one of those warmer climates all year around, but might find it interesting so hear me out.

I feel like it's best explained through music. It's like we walk in a staccato beat when it's very cold. Quick detached beats of short duration, we hold our breaths, go outside to grin and bear it.

But when the warm weather comes, it's like a whole note, the longest note, we breath out to let go of the stresses and stressors of our lives. We stroll. And this time has arrived. We're in whole note season!

I love all seasons and the nature and sports in them. Each season has it's own character and beat. We have four but the winter seems to grab an inordinate amount of our time and head space. It feels like we spend a lot of energy here keeping warm, coming in from the cold, talking about the weather and how cold it is, buying clothes to keep us warmer, consuming food and drink that will warm us up, looking for partners to keep us warm.

I love the summer for how we as a city we relax and tumble into the grass. It seems as there is a collective awakening and there is an incredible amount of activities to do outdoors. It's like being at the carnival and wondering what ride you should go on next. At the end of the day, we might be a bit burnt from being out in the sun too long and tired from squeezing in as many rides and games as possible before we have to come inside. But it's a different exhaustion, because it's doing what you love.

We don't have a remote where can push the stop or pause button for the season to wait for us. It goes so quickly, like our lives. Let's not waste it doing things we don't want to do, or minimize the parts that we don't like.

At the end of the day, it's the small things that truly matter and makes our lives meaningful.

Like eating gelato that drips on you because you can't eat it fast enough as it's melting, watching the incredible array of colours of the sunset by the water and being grateful for being alive to watch it, taking your kids to the sprinkler water park and joining in and laughing because you haven't done that since you were their age, and walking barefoot in the grass because you can

A duck out of water, but in water, so it's happy

Pause where it is blooming, wherever it may be.

Love, Caroline xo

Feeding the soul

2015-06-02T05:53:00.000+09:00

Everytime I see one, it reminds me of my childhood and I have to try. It instantly makes me feel young and there is laughter from my belly. I love that, especially as I have been feeling a bit under the weather. Try it. Skip, jump, swing and slide, and if you are brave enough, you will do it with people watching. Why should things that are fun and free only be for kids?! Why is there a best before date on fun?! Our mind might think it's silly but our heart knows and is nourished by it. And that is how I feed my soul when it is hungry. Xo

Try this, it will make your mouth go numb...

2015-05-26T13:46:00.000+09:00

... it's called kava. I ended my stay in Hawi with a cup of kava.

Heidi and I went to the Kava Kafé (www.kavakafe.com), crowded with locals, most who she knows by now as it doesn't take long in a small community and with everyone so open and friendly. There was a musician playing and a big punch bowl of kava being served at the counter. There is no alcohol served in the café, the focus is on kava and vegetarian food.

The server poured me a cup of kava in a coconut cup, showing me the large root from which it is made. She said the locals say it will root me.

What is kava? Kava is made from the roots of the kava plant and used for medicinal, religious, political, cultural and social purposes throughout the Pacific. These cultures have a great respect for the plant and place a high importance on it. There are many different names for kava and in Hawaii, they often refer to it as awa.

Just before I was going to drink it, Heidi told me that it will numb the front of my mouth and tongue and will relax me. I was a bit worried at first. Would I enter into altered states that I would never come back from and miss my flight home? I liked the relaxed state part but, call me skeptical, I didn’t really like the sound of part of my face going numb.

Of course I joined in, like most things in my life, with gusto, and tried it.

It tastes like you’re drinking root and swamp water. It does make your mouth and tongue go numb. Sort of like that feeling after the dentist's office and you're mouth has been frozen. It seemed relaxing, but heh I was relaxed all ready so it was hard to tell. Actually, with a more relaxed laid back vibe here, how can people tell? Is there graduations of relaxation here like the range of mangos? For us, it's usually the week day or the weekend, day off of work or not, holidays or not, as part of the indication of how relaxed we are.

Some say kava is an acquired taste. I would agree with that! They also say that the more you drink, the more you like it. The seed, or should I say root, has been planted and I will come back for this and much more.

For now, I travel home. I have digested much food and drink for thought here and during my travels, which has taken me in many directions and to places I never knew existed.

Lovely ocean park, where you can see remnants of a 600-year-old village that existed.

But it is the friends and strangers who I encountered along the way that I will never forget. They say, you will forget people, but you will never forget how they made you feel. And during my trip, I was touched deeply by the warmth and kindness of so many, some who I couldn't speak the same language with.

I love Mochi!

I realized that one's community can be much larger than you think, and there is much more that brings us together than divides us. Thank you to my community abroad and at home that has made this incredible journey possible. I am grateful! Stay tuned as I soar with my wonderful life beyond Zen and blog...

Cooking in the jungle

2015-05-21T23:59:00.000+09:00

I followed Heidi through the bamboo forest and into the jungle. We were carrying food and supplies to make dinner at the Mango Kitchen.

When I was in Japan, Heidi asked me if I would make a Japanese dinner for some of her friends. I agreed, excited to bring my favourite Japanese ingredients and combine these with local produce, to make a special dinner on-site.

What I didn’t know then, is that this dinner would be in a kitchen in the jungle and it would be for her special friends who are workers of a great organization called the Hawaii Institute of Pacific Agriculture, called HIP (hipagriculture.org). HIP has 25 acres of farmland just outside of Kapa’auh that used to be owned by King Kamehameha. The institute has internships to learn about hands-on farming and sustainable living. This is no ordinary organization or farm.

They farm a wide range of tropical produce from mango, papaya and star fruit to avocado, plantain and ginger, in addition to macadamias. Interns learn about a wide range of topics, from tropical permaculture and mycology (study of mushrooms, including growing them) to plant identification and medicine.

While it may seem easy for the people of Hawaii to feed themselves from their lush and fertile land, 85% of their food is imported and they are the world's most isolated island. Much of the land has been controlled by corporate sugar cane plantations until recently and new incentives are encouraging biotech corporations to use the land to produce crops, some of which are GMO. Therefore, organizations like HIP are playing a vital role in helping people learn how to grow a diversity of products to feed themselves.

By the way, HIP boarders a ocean park with the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen.

The Mango Kitchen is basic and rustic, a friendly space, decorated in bright colours and surrounded with views of the jungle from the windows. Everything in the kitchen speaks to cooking and eating together, from the large kitchen counters to the communal table and sitting areas. And when I walked in everyone was happy to see me and offered to help me.

For dinner, I brought some ingredients I had gathered through my travels in Japan: miso; kombu; shitake; wakame and green tea. I combined this with a incredible range of fresh ingredients available on the farm and in town: turmeric, ginger, coconut, pumpkin, sweet potato, mango, cilantro, greens, flowers, bananas, coconut sugar, lemons and tomatoes.

What did I make for dinner? A Japanese seaweed salad, miso soup and a tempeh curry with red rice and papaya hot sauce. Some of the people who joined us for dinner were vegan and were thrilled that they could eat everything I made. It may not be as pretty as my usual offerings as I served everything family style without much garnish and fanfare, however the participants told me it was delicious, and that made me happy. The only thing that was missing was dessert.

One of the male workers said that he would make cupcakes from the ulus that were over ripe and they needed to use them up. “What’s an ulu?”, I asked. Someone handed me a strange looking fruit the size of a cantaloupe with a bubbly cover. Heidi had told me how good ulu is baked and wanted me to try it, and here I was in the jungle and someone was making it for us. We were both excited! He made individual cupcakes with a glaze for it. Absolutely delicious! They have a joke at HIP, who knew ulu, because who knew a fruit that is kind of ugly could be that good. I guess you can’t judge a book or fruit by its cover!

It was a lovely evening, sharing food, conversation and tarot cards, with no distractions such as TVs, computers, cell phones or city traffic, which was surprising and welcoming with a largely younger crowd. I love the fact that HIP builds community, showing participants first hand what a real community of people that care about the future of the planet and each other feels like and can accomplish. This alone is admirable.

With all our advancements in technology and communications, we seem more rushed, distracted and isolated than ever, to each other, what really matters to us, and most importantly ourselves. This has been a concern of mine, for myself and our communities.

Through this experience and my travels of late, I have realized that sometimes you need to go backwards before you can move forward, going faster is not necessarily better, and there are a multitude of speeds between low to high speed. Who knew?

Stopping for tea in the jungle...

Who knew ulu?

2015-05-20T15:39:00.000+09:00

It’s 4 pm and I’m sitting at the Kona Coffee Mill in Hawi, Hawaii, eating a macadamia ice cream.

A visitor stopped me to ask where they were serving the ice cream that they mention in the book. I said this must be the place because the town is very small and as far as I know this is the only place that serves ice cream on the strip and I’ve heard good ice cream. Of course I was curious to try it after that. It’s very good. I like the fact that macadamias in it are grown locally. Hawi is a small town in northern Hawaii, part of the Kohala region. It’s often known as where the Ironman and trialathon turns around.

I have come from Japan where I was 13 hours ahead of you to here, and I have come here, 6 hours behind you. It seems appropriate that I am behind you because the pace seems slower more relaxed here. When I got off the airplane and walked into the terminal, despite a 24 hour travel time, with three flights and stop over time of about 10 hours in two airports, I felt immediately more relaxed and energized at the same time. I can’t explain it.

And by the time Heidi brought me to her the town that has adopted her, or she has adopted, I was feeling very relaxed and excited at the same time, not only to be with Heidi and in Hawaii, but there is a certain energy to the island and this area in particular.

It’s like mother earth embraces you here, and tells you to settle down, everything will be ok. There is so much spectacular scenery at every time, sometimes so stunning and incredible when Heidi and I would be hiking, that I had to say holy ***, sorry those were the only words I could think of and perhaps I should be more literate but the feelings were raw like the terrain. Through mother earth’s incredible beauty, she forces you to become more present and enjoy it all, be grateful for it.

I heard a guy talking to a visitor about some problems he is having, and at the ends he says, “but heh I live in Hawaii and the beaches where I live are often deserted and beautiful.” I hear others say that they wake up every morning grateful to have another day in such a beautiful location on this planet. I am certainly grateful for the time I am spending here.

I had a long stopover in Waikiki and while beautiful as I walked the beach area and laid in the sun, I felt it was too crowded and touristy for me. I felt I hadn’t left Japan, just the back drop had changed. There were so many Japanese tourists, almost everything was written in Japanese as well as English, and sometimes only in Japanese, and there was the Japanese food and snacks all over that I was familiar with in Japan like snack packs of sushi and noodles, not that I am complaining, just observing.

So coming to Kona and then to Hawi feels more “Hawaiian”, more local, more real. It feels like I am peeling a fruit, layer by layer, and now I am inside where the seeds are like a papaya. I am thinking in fruit because there is so much fruit here that is grown locally that I am familiar with, however I am not, because there is nothing like tasting something that has been grown locally and just picked.

And the new produce I am being introduced to, are like new crushes. Where have you been all my life? How can I get to know you better? Heidi said I would love ulu, especially done as a bread/cake, and she was right. The whole ulu can be put in the oven and when it’s ready, they open it up like bread! Thus the alternate name breadfruit. How great is that? Now we are both in love with the same fruit! But there is room, because there is a lot of ulu. Who knew about ulu?

I’ve also come to have a crush on lilikoi or yellow passion fruit that seems to make its way into a lot of food products from jams and ice creams to desserts. You eat the fruit by cutting a whole at the top and sucking out the seeds and pulp or cutting it in half and scooping out the seeds and pulp. You normally don’t eat the rest.

This morning we had a freshly baked cinnamon bun with lilikoi glaze at the Nanbu Coutyard café on our way home from what is becoming our daily sunrise beach play time. Delish! The café is only open from 7 am – 2 pm and the owner is a third generation Japanese, like me. She makes everything from scratch from early in the morning. There is a beautiful courtyard as part of the café that looks like a perfect place to relax.

When I came to the island, I felt like I was out of step with the energy of the island. The best way I can describe it is like I was a square peg trying to fit inside a round hole. I feel that I have spent so much time being the best and right peg, in order to fit in. But here you don’t need to be a round peg or even a peg, you can be who you are.

Did you know that there are 250 varieties of mango? Who knew? At home, most of the time it’s hard to find more than two varieties and the big criteria is often how ripe they are.

That’s what I love about travelling, it challenges all my preconceived assumptions and expectations about everything, including fruits and life. And sometimes turning your world upside down is a good thing.

Naked in Japan

2015-05-17T19:29:00.000+09:00

If you want a truly Japanese experience, there is no better place than an onsen or mineral hot springs. In Japan, bathing or cleaning is done before you enter the waters, because once you enter, it is for relaxation and rejuvenation. It is the same for taking a bath in Japan.

I don’t think the onsen has changed much over the years except for more automation and some English where there are tourists like at the large Tokyo one called Oedo Onsen.
www.ooedoonsen.jp/en/top/ I went to with Yuki and her sister’s family.

Here were the basic steps and rules at this onsen, and this may differ at other places, but it is basically the same approach and may help if you go to one. I had no idea before I went how many rules there are, written and unwritten.

The guide to a good onsen experience…

1.Take off your shoes. You must lock up your shoes and you take your key

2. Register. At the Tokyo onsen you get a wrist band so that you don’t have to take your wallet. You can buy what you need through the band, whether food, drink or massage, and it’s added to your bill.

3. No tattoos. There are signs everywhere that say you can’t go in with a tattoo and they will actually refuse you entry if you tell them you have one. This is a rule I believe that was created initially to not let in yakuza, organized crime members, who are usually covered in tattoos. Saying that no tattoos were allowed, would prevent them from coming in. If you have a minor tattoo or tattoos that are small then you might want to consider covering them up with a band aid or tensor band aid or other as some friends I know do. Otherwise it’s pretty black and white in Japan and you won’t get in.

4. Yukata. You get to select what coloured pattern you want for your cloth yukata (lightweight kimono) and obi (sash). The men have little or no choice for their yukata.

5. Second locker. This is where you leave your belongings and put on your yukata and obi. Remember, left over right fabric for putting on the yukata, the other way means death. Make a bow or knot with the obi and put it at the back or side.

6. Third locker.This is where you get a large and small towel and a key to another locker. Yes, there are a lot of lockers!

7. Get naked. This is where you must get naked. You are not allowed to wear your yukata to the baths or bring anything with you except for the small towel. You can use the small towel over your private parts if you’d like but I think that looks a bit ridiculous like one of those British comedy shows where someone gets caught naked and tries to cover up quickly. Many use the towel on their heads when they are in the onsen. It’s interesting that the Japanese people seem shy to us, however they are not shy about getting naked in public so to speak. I guess we all have things that we are shy and awkward about.

8. Get clean. There are small wooden stools, each with a shower area. You are supposed to clean before the baths or at least put some water over you with a small wooden container in a common place that is usually just before the onsen area. When we went to the Hakone onsen, about an hour outside of Tokyo, I asked Yuki why there was water covering the stones in the front entrance. Perhaps they were cleaning it? She said they pour water at the entrance as a sign of welcome to guests. Her mother used to do it when she was growing up. Before she had guests, she would pour water at the entrance way as a sign of welcome.

9. Onsen time! When you finally get to the onsen, it is lovely, peaceful and relaxing, though there were about 100 women scattered throughout the different sized pools of varying forms from metal to rock to wooden tub and of varying temperatures, warm to hot, inside and out. Sometimes there is a cold pool. I don’t know about the one in Tokyo because I didn’t search out the cold one. There was something so ancient and timeless about the scene. There were some pools with jets like a hot tub, others with special salts and minerals. My friend Jacob went to an onsen in Kyoto, touched the wall and got an electric shock. He was surprised and thought he should alert someone to this dangerous situation, until he realized that this was on purpose and people were putting body parts in there as they believe this to be good for they system!

10. Eat! At the Tokyo onsen, there is a big marketplace like an amusement park with games for the kids, restaurants and take out counters. When we started getting hungry, we changed back into our yukatas and went into the marketplace. It was strange to be in a space with hundreds of people wearing similar clothing and having nothing else. It was like a scene from an old samurai movie or ancient woodblock print. I got used to it quickly and loved it. It was freeing not to worry about what to wear and not carrying money or any possessions.

I noticed a few differences from this kind of experience in Japan vs. if it was held in North America. First of all, there is a lot of great home style cooking at reasonable prices, from tempura and curry, to ramen and sushi. Second, there is a mix of generations sitting together and close to one another in the same space. I noticed that there is still a lot of respect and care for elders here, and I love this, especially as I get older :). It is a culture that is not just focused on the young and staying youthful, which seems like the primary goal of our North American existence if you listen to the ads.

11. Foot baths. After our meal, we went to the foot baths, which is a beautiful Japanese garden setting outside with warm ponds that you can dangle your feet in. There are also stones you can walk on. I tried it, but it there were too painful for me, something I will have to build up to I guess. Yuki's niece wanted to try to soak her feet in the special pond called Doctor Fish where tiny fish come to your feet to clean them of dead skin cells and other nasty bits. This is in a special area that you have to pay for and her father took her.

It was a lovely warm evening, and we sat under the moonlight in our yukatas, this time both men and women are allowed in the same area, and time seemed to stand still. I could understand why this has been part of the Japanese culture for hundreds of years and I hope it stays that way. The bathing experience provides self-care and calm in an increasingly crazy busy world that we live in and it creates the opportunity to pause and reflect, unconnecting technically, but connecting to one another and more importantly to ourselves.

Tea in Tahara

2015-05-16T18:05:00.000+09:00

Sometimes food is more than food, and tea is more than tea. When it is created by love, there is magic and power in it.

I experienced this in Tahara city, a rural community with a lot of farms, population of about 63,000. I was there to visit my friend Noriko who stayed with us when she was in Ottawa studying English. She brought so much into my life in Ottawa, and she was a good cook as well. She helped me with some of the cooking for ZenKitchen pop-up dinners, we worked together to make an elaborate Japanese New Year’s celebration breakfast for my friends, and she would often have a Japanese dinner ready for us when we got home from work. :)

Noriko took me to see the ocean, a 20 minute drive from her hometown, and we walked along the beach. We were the only ones. It was a hot and humid day but also windy, overcast and foggy so you couldn’t see the beautiful mountains or much of the ocean. However, I love the ocean and it was beautiful to walk along the beach, with the high winds and the waves crashing, and the surfers out enjoying this. At the end of our walk, I noticed a building near the parking lot. She said it was a store with local food products and did I want to go in? What a funny person she is!

The Tahara city area is in the Aichi prefecture, which is surrounded by mountains and the ocean, and the landscape is filled with farms and rice fields. This results in an abundance of local produce and food products. In Tokyo and Osaka, I hadn’t seen a lot of fruit that was accessible, meaning that it was usually quite expensive and all wrapped up carefully in plastic in tiny portions. The vegetables were more accessible but I stuck to the Japanese vegetables like mizuna, daikon and Japanese mushrooms that seemed fresher and cheaper.

In the store at the beach, the produce from local farms was plentiful, fresh, and seemed reasonably priced compared to Canadian prices.There was produce that we are more used to at home such as local tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, potatoes, and eggplants, along with some Japanese vegetables. There was also a special Musk melon that the region produces and sells for about 2,200 yen or $22 US each. Most fruit continues to be expensive in Japan, especially melons, which most Japanese love.

local agar agar

There are also special products the region makes, including miso, every region seems to have a different kind of miso they make and theirs is very dark almost like hatcho, wakame, oil, agar agar, rice and green tea.

When we arrived back home, Noriko said that her father wanted to have us over for a matcha tea ceremony without the ceremony. Apparently he had studied tea ceremony a long time before he got married and since Noriko was a child he has enjoyed making matcha tea for her family in a more casual manner. Her father and mother were babysitting her sister’s two children, two and four, and they were excited to be participating in tea ceremony.

I was surprised at first, “isn’t the tea too strong for them?” I asked. Noriko said they make it weak for them. I guess it’s the same as having a tea party when I was a young girl, but this one is real, and no wonder the girls love it. I loved the ceremony without the structure, and perhaps those who are reading this who have studied Japanese tea ceremony for a long time might cringe at the lack of formality. I think it’s a great way to introduce children to the joy of sharing and drinking tea, with all the proper customs associated with it. It’s the same way with cooking.I feel introducing it in a fun, simple way to children would go a long way from them not being afraid or hesitant to cook when they are older.

First the presentation of the sweets

Eating dango, rice dumplings

Eating yokan, sweet red bean

Tea service and bowing in acceptance and gratitude, at 2 years

The tea ceremony started with sweets, including yokan (red bean cake) and dango (rice flour dumplings with soy glaze), which I adore, and apparently so do the kids. They ate the sweets in the usual excited manner that kids do but also with restraint to, sitting properly, eating it in small bites with a special bamboo toothpick you are given, putting it down between bites on the delicate rice papers you are given. We didn’t even do that when we had wagashi at the tea ceremony with Fumiko the other day and were embarrassed when we noticed how everyone ate after we gulped down our wagashi. Everyone, including the man, had broken the wagashi cake in half with the toothpick and had eaten it slowly, keeping the other half on top of the rice paper, to be eaten later. Well, the two year old did this, albeit a bit clumsily and awkwardly, as she is two after all.

One at a time, the father would prepare the matcha tea expertly in the large clay bowls with the bamboo whisk, and the mother would bring it to one of us in the living room. I loved the two year old as she participated in the ceremony, bowing first with her grandmother mother and saying the appropriate words of appreciation and respect, and then drinking the tea from the bowl in the way she was taught. It was too adorable!

After we had our teas, the father asked if I wanted to learn how to make matcha. He gave me pointers on the making of it, serving of it, and drinking of it, which was fascinating for me. He was so kind, patient and passionate about making and sharing tea.

I will remember forever the tea in Tahara city because it was more than tea. It was an act of generousity and love from Noriko’s father to his family and their guest. Lucky me!

Hale vegan in Kyoto

2015-05-15T11:02:00.000+09:00

We went to the most amazing lunch at Hale, an organic vegetarian restaurant in the Nishiki market of Kyoto. Nishiki market is a must visit in itself. It is where the chefs shop for special ingredients for their intricate Kyoto cuisine. We met Chiharu, chef-owner, at a tea ceremony class with Fumiko the day before and I wanted to visit her restaurant, especially when Fumiko said it is mostly vegan and focuses on using organic local seasonal ingredients.

Chiharu opened up the restaurant about 10 years ago. It used to be the house of her grandmother, which she transformed into a restaurant with about 12 seats on the first floor. It is well hidden down a thin alleyway in the market and if Fumiko hadn't led us there we may have not found it, and that would have been a shame because it's amazing.

When you enter the restaurant, you immediately feel at home, because after all it is an ancient home with a lot history, and then there is a small beautiful Japanese garden that we were told is common for these type of houses. Chiharu had a dream to open up a restaurant and she has done it, and done it well in my opinion.

We chose from two set menus, both organic vegan, and we ordered potato sochu, beer and a house made ginger grapefruit drink to accompany it. The food when it came out was wonderful, not only in presentation, but with every taste you feel the care and love that went into it, and in that alone, I felt at home and I had found a kindred spirit.

There were so many interesting tastes and textures, from a yuba mushroom rice bowl as the main dish, a beautiful array of local steamed vegetables with dressings, and a variety of accompaniments, including house pickles, chilled soft tofu, marinated and seasoned Kyoto seasonal offerings creatively prepared, fu (wheat gluten), which is another local specialty that has become a favourite of mine next to yuba (bean curd skin), kumquats and smoked tea.

There must have been around 100 touches to each tray and my confirmed carnivore friends shared in the delight of the presentation and offerings. I even transformed my friend Michael to liking tofu after having him try so many versions of artisanal freshly made tofu while in Kyoto. The care and presentation of artisanal tofu is much like cheese in places like Kyoto, in the way that the tofu makers prepare it daily using ancient techniques. I feel it is a shame that the only exposure most North Americans get to tofu is the packages of tofu that are often hard, dry and tasteless, because it can be and is much more than this.

There was only one dessert offering and one that I adore... kakikori, ice shavings. But at Hale, they make a special kakikori with house made syrups. It was a real treat in the way they freshly prepared each one to order, almost like a granite but lighter and flufflier. They had us eat one quickly before it melted and the other one would come out shortly afterwards. We chose umeboshi plum, strawberry, Japanese brown sugar and adzuki, we loved all of them but the last was the group favourite. A fun finish to a meal, and if you know me, I love food that is delicious as well as being playful.

Dessert

If you find yourself in Kyoto, I highly recommend you visit Hale, whether you are vegan or not. Chiharu means sunny weather in Japanese and Hale in Hawaiian means house of the sun. I'm sure your visit will bring sunshine to your heart and palate, and that is the incredible power of food from the heart or kokoro in Japanese.

Me kidding around with the talented chefs of Hale, how strange of me :)

Life at first sight

2015-05-14T11:02:00.002+09:00

May 13, 2015

I arrived in Kyoto last night during the threat of a typhoon. It was raining hard, the winds were blowing heavily, and the streets were filled with people and their big umbrellas. I fell in the love at first sight. The city was charming. We arrived at Kyoto Central Station and it is filled with foods of all kinds that I love, waiting for me.

We went to the place that we rented and it is a very old traditional house with modern conveniences. When we entered the house, there was gravel and stones entryway that we all said "ahhh" to because it was so simple, so beautiful, so Japanese. Of course, we're in Japan you might say, but they say Kyoto is the Japan that people have images of when they think of Japan. We would find this would be true as we walked down cobblestone alleys in the old city with ancient wooden buildings, lanterns lit, and the occasional woman in kimono walking by quickly and gracefully.

One of the most beautiful Starbuck patios...

There was stillness in the night with the rain and the threat of a typhoon coming but I got the feeling that there is a stillness that is always there despite the storm and all the tourists that visit, and there are over 50 million visitors to Kyoto yearly!

In Tokyo, there was not stillness as this is truly the city that never sleeps. However, I found there to be incredible mindfulness and patience of individuals toward others despite being in a city of over 20 million. Very rarely do you see people rushing or being impatient, pushing or crowding, in fact they often encourage you to go first. I had to catch myself when I would be rushing to catch the train or be doing something in a non mindful manner. I would watch others around me and slow down or take the time to put away things carefully and neatly. I was becoming more Japanese.

Today the typhoon warning was lifted and it was warm sunny day. We walked through the city and my friend Fumiko invited us to go to her tea ceremony class. There are so many classes offered in traditional arts and culture in Kyoto and Fumiko has been going to the same teacher for some 10 years. She loves going to her because she is an expert and so kind in her nature. Besides tea ceremony, she takes classes in putting on a kimono and another in making of a kimono. There seems to be a lot of classes here to take, my kind of place!

On our way to the tea ceremony class...

We were honoured to be invited into the tatami room in a house to watch Fumiko perform one of many approaches to tea ceremony she has learned over the years, under the guidance of her teacher who would make gentle gestures or say a few words if she would forget something. We started with wagashi, sweets, before each taking our turn at drinking the matcha tea she made for us so carefully. Afterwards, two more students came to practice, another young woman and man.

Wagashi sweets to counter the bitterness of the matcha...

We were interested in watching the young man practice such a careful and delicate art form that you would think only the women would be interested in, from our North American perspective. It was also interesting to find out that the two students are both chefs in the city, one the chef-owner of a vegetarian restaurant in Kyoto that we will try tomorrow.

In my travels, it never ceases to amaze me how many interesting people that I meet and that cross my path. And through this, I have realized that sometimes instead of waiting for opportunities to come to me, I have to go out into the world so they can find me.

I think I'm turning Japanese

2015-05-11T15:35:00.000+09:00

It’s May 11 and over two weeks since I have been in Tokyo. I am sitting in one of my favourite Starbucks in the hood, and someone said there are more Starbucks than noodle houses and I would have to agree. Like back home, it’s a common meeting place and there is free Wi-Fi, which is often hard to get in the city and not a given in one of the most connected cities in the world.

How do I feel after two weeks? I am turning Japanese, I really think so. And this is not just because I am consuming an incredible amount of Japanese food into my body and am immersed in Japanese life, but this is part of it. The thing is that I feel that I have had a long hunger for this food, and I can’t stop eating it or thinking about it. The more I eat, the more I want. I believe this is because it goes beyond to feeding my hunger, it feeds my soul. Japanese is my soul food.

I am fascinated by how food can trigger memories that lay on the surface and deep down below the surface. Being here and seeing, smelling and tasting an incredible array of Japanese cuisine, brings back fond memories of growing up with this type of food when I was a child and reminds me of my mother who adored Japanese food. While she passed away over 25 years ago, it’s almost like she is here with me and I can hear her voice, encouraging me to try something because it’s oishii (tasty) or to be sure to buy this or that because you can’t get it at home.

Beyond nourishing me, the food here comforts me, makes me happy, and makes me feel like I am home and I don’t mean in a physical way because I have been in Canada all of my life. Being in Japan, reminds me where my roots come from and how deep they go. I feel I have some sort of connection here to the people. Of course you do you may be thinking because I look Japanese. It’s more complicated than that. While I know I have features that look like the people here and can understand them in some ways, I also feel like an impostor and I am not like them.

I am a third-generation Japanese Canadian and because my grandfather made the bold move to come over to Canada from Kobe to BC in the early 1900s, I am Canadian first and foremost. My first language is English and competing for second place is French and Japanese.

So where do I stand you may wonder being Japanese-looking but with blondish hair. Last time I came to Japan, I melded in much more and this time people don’t know what I am and give me a curious look at times. I guess their first reaction is to consider me a foreigner than one of them and that is probably more accurate as I am somewhere between the two. I can understand Japanese about 75% and can speak it about 50%, thanks to my mom who put me through Japanese language school, took me to Japan and spoke to me in Japanese when I was a child, especially when she was angry.

When I was a child, I desperately wanted to fit into the classroom and didn’t want to be different so I thought I was being cool by replying back in English to my mom. However, this leaves me today being a bit stuck when I need to speak Japanese as the words are in my mind but don't come out of my mouth very easily. But with each taste of Japanese food and life, the words are coming out more and more easily, and I am turning Japanese.