A Visit with Annapurna

This shaggy dog story all started with a “stolen” tomato, which led to a squash, which led to soup, which led to Annapurna, which led to a woman of purpose dedicated to passion, integrity and service. I feel like a bloodhound sniffing the trail of life through a forest hoping to find an interesting, enlightening story. Let me begin at the beginning.

Until recently, I had never grown a tomato of my own. When Costco had tomato plants for sale, I bought one. Since New Mexican spring nights can include below-freezing weather, or even snow, I put the plant out in daytime sunshine and brought it in on frosty nights. A gardener-neighbor said the plant was unhappy in the pot and wanted to be in the ground. She offered to plant it. I accepted. I watered it twice daily for months. It rewarded me with such a perfectly beautiful, round, red tomato, I took its picture. The next day it was gone. I posted a note. The following morning I heard a knock at my door. It was a consolation visit from Betty, my 93-year-old neighbor and her home health aide, Deena. Deena said, “I brought you some tomatoes from my garden,” handing me a plastic bag of three. As they sympathized with my loss, I felt very fortunate to have such neighbors. A Realtor friend suggested a raccoon might have taken my tomato. I prefer to think that. A few days later Deena gave me a huge spaghetti squash and a large butternut squash, also from her garden.

I’ve always had good intentions about trying the recipes in my vegetarian cookbooks, but they led to . . . nowhere. I found a recipe for butternut squash soup in the Chopra Center Cookbook: Nourishing Body and Soul. A friend gave me the cookbook so long ago I don’t remember which friend it was or on what occasion. The recipe called for exotic ingredients I didn’t have. Hot on the trail, the bloodhound sniffed out garam masala, tamari, and Bragg’s Amino Acids at a local health and produce store. The curried soup was flavorful and delicious. I had some for dinner and froze some for fall.

On a road trip a month ago, a friend and I stopped for lunch at Annapurna, an organic, vegetarian restaurant in Santa Fe. They offered cooking classes. We knew they also had two locations in Albuquerque. Sniffing through Albuquerque’s independent weekly Alibi last week, I saw classes would soon begin. “Annapurna," the Sanscrit name for “Goddess of the Harvest,” originally meant “full of food.” Although the restaurant founder’s name is Yashoda, she is Annapurna to me. Shoulder-length black ringlets, striking Indian features and smooth café skin emanate a timeless presence. Yashoda personally teaches the ayurvedic cooking classes in a patio classroom adjacent to her restaurant. The introductory class of the series was Saturday. I went. Yashoda presented an overview of the three doshas, or body types, four seasons, five elements, six tastes, seven chakras, eight houses, nine planets and how important it is to be in harmony with them for health. She discussed food in relation to times of the day and the body’s natural rhythms. Everything in her restaurant is made fresh, from scratch, every day including chai, made from black tea and spices, not a just-add-water powdered mix.

During the interactive class with six students, Yashoda’s life story and philosophy were revealed. Trained as a C.P.A., not knowing how to cook, she decided she wanted to open a restaurant with food prepared as it was for her while she grew up. Her husband didn’t support the idea. Divorced, with no money, she found banks would not finance a vegetarian restaurant in a town without one. She now has three locations and just purchased a building of her own. Yashoda spoke passionately about “healings” people have reported from learning to eat the kind of healthy food she serves. She no longer does business with one supplier who carries a product containing undisclosed wheat. She is adamant about not taking the “customer’s dollar” then feeding them “poison.” Her passions and prejudices carry emotional energy. Her integrity is apparent. I was touched and moved by her commitment to be of service to others by providing healing food without compromise. She told us if we were serious about the ayurvedic path of food for health, we would go home, empty out our refrigerator, pantry and cabinets and start from scratch. It could be a full-time job. Meeting Yashoda, hearing of her journey, let me see how many different ways there are to offer love and service to the world. I suspect there are just as many ways as there are people.   

"Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food."  - Hippocrates