We take for granted that great wine takes time, and over centuries man has mustered the discipline and patience to wait for wine to evolve and develop complexity. What if we had to apply the same principle to all food?
It would seem that humankind would starve first, but this impossible dream does provide some delectable food for thought thanks to an encounter with Jeong Kwan, a Buddhist monk from South Korea who has expanded the conversation on slow food since appearing on the Netflix series “Chef’s Table” in 2017.
Kwan was in town last week as a guest of the Daihonzan Chozen-Ji temple. She toured farms to become familiar with Hawaii agriculture, presented a cooking demonstration for students of Kapiolani Community College and the Culinary Institute of the Pacific, and was the featured guest during a reception and screening of her episode of “Chef’s Table” at the Kahala Hotel & Resort.
Living at Baegyangsa Temple in the mountains of Jangseong County, 169 miles south of Seoul, Kwan is unpressured by the concept of time as it afflicts those of us in the West whose lives revolve around it.
So what might have been a two-hour demonstration, light lunch and interview process last week stretched into four hours and eventually nine, as it ran into her evening showcase. She seemed to want to drive home the point that all good things take time.
Before speaking to the students, she asked guests to gather in front of her, saying that scattered energy throughout the room left her feeling imbalanced, and she invited us to take a deep breath with her.
During her demonstration, she made use of syrups made of berries, rice, plum and more, aged three to five years, as well as condiments such as soy sauce and the kochujang she makes from scratch at her temple. They were stirred into dishes of braised shiitake and a salad of dried persimmons and cucumbers.
Also served were slices of crunchy and crave-worthy pickled radishes that had been packed in salt and preserved for a year in porous clay jars warmed by sunshine. The long preservation cycle continued as the radishes were packed and aged again in soy sauce, then in soy bean paste, before reaching their perfect edible state.
Through an interpreter, she said she does little work because nature does it for her.
Though the dishes were simple, they exemplified the harmony that comes from Kwan’s extensive knowledge of nature and the seasons, as well as her ingredients and the prime time to use them. These are the reasons she caught the attention of Le Bernardin chef Eric Ripert, a 30-year Buddhist, who traveled through Korea to learn more about temple cooking, and invited Kwan to cook at his New York City restaurant in 2015.
Kwan, born in 1957, grew up on a farm and was a natural in the kitchen at a young age. When she was 7, she decided to make noodles for her parents, to welcome them home after a day of working in the fields. Her mother was shocked to discover she had learned the process simply through observation.
Her mother died when Kwan was 17, prompting her to run away to the temple to become a monk. In her grief, she decided she never wanted to have children destined to suffer the same anguish she felt.
At the temple, cooking became a form of meditation.
“There is no difference between cooking and pursuing Buddha’s way. It’s been almost half a century since I entered this way. I did it in pursuit of enlightenment.”
Kwan does not travel the world to proselytize, but to help others on their own paths.
“Through food connection and sharing what I can, I can facilitate practitioners’ search of life discovery and answering the question, ‘Who am I?’”
Her opening question for the students — “Do you eat to live or live to eat?” — was just one query designed to get people in the room to consider who they are in this regard. There is no right or wrong answer, and Buddhism is a particularly nonjudgmental faith in such matters.
Buddhism’s primary teachings, Kwan said, are to act in harmony with nature and strike a balance in mind, body and spirit, with food as a major source of well-being.
A cook’s duty, she said, is “to be in right mind when preparing food, know a food’s origin and essence, and know when it can be harvested. Thinking of ingredients, understanding their original form and what they can be is the ultimate form of respect for food, and consuming it is recognition that nature’s gifts are medicine for the human form.”
That respect, Kwan said, means recognizing nature’s way and not trying to rush things. “It’s man’s greed that wants the plants to grow faster, grow bigger and prettier. In 60 years I can feel and smell the way nature has changed, and if we continue this way, what will be the future we leave for the next generation?”
Buddhism helps people discern right and wrong and live accordingly, Kwan said.
“If you’re living purely, you don’t have to think when you wake up, ‘I’m going to do good today.’ You’re already good. If we can do this collectively, that’s energy that can help change the world.”