In the forty-six years as a monk
Cooking has been my way of practicing Buddhism
I was born in July, 1956
I was curious about one question when I was 6, 7 years old -- why do people live
My secular mother passed away when I was 17
I was deeply upset
How could someone I love die so suddenly and leave me like this
I thought, if I became a monk
I could avoid the pain of parting
So one day
I left home without telling anyone
I was born on a small farm
My mother prepared food for us everyday with great care
I grew closer to food as such
When I was 8, 9 years old
I made dough with bean flour and flour
On a rock
And made noodles for my families who were out farming
In my first year as a monk
I prepared side dishes for fellow monks
I harvested eggplants from the field
Cleaned them and steamed them
And served with soy sauce or made salad with them
I prepared vegan meals for fellow monks like this
And they enjoyed my meals
Simple food can bring so much satisfaction
I am happy to see them being able to enjoy food
While pursuing Buddha’s way
I get up at 4 in the morning for prayer
And I have porridge as breakfast at 6
Then I work in the farm to 9 o’clock
I have lunch at 11
Culinary art in temple is featured by light seasoning
The natural flavor of ingredients is emphasized
Out temple is located in a mountain
So I make soybean paste in spring
And after the Summer Solstice
By the time of the dog days, the fermentation will be completed
With the dew at night
The sun in the day and the wind
With 5 years, 10 years, 15 years, 20 years
The paste becomes therapeutic
When I sow seeds
I seldom cultivate the land
I only dig a ditch
And let plants grow, bloom, and bear fruit naturally
And seeds will fall into the soil
At the tenth year of me being a monk, my father came to live with me for a month
He was upset when he first came here
And he yelled at me
He said that vegan meals without meat and seafood were unbearable
And I said to him
I would cook you a dish better than meat and seafood
You can make your decision after trying my dish
So I took a basket of shiitake mushrooms
Soy sauce and syrup
And went to the creek
I made steamed shiitake mushrooms with soy sauce for my father
He enjoyed that dish
And after he finished, he was amazed, “I didn’t know that food could be so delicious”
“You can live in the temple eating this”
“I won’t take my daughter away”
“Please allow her to stay here and serve the Buddha”
He left after saying this
And one week later, he passed away at peace
There is no difference between cooking and pursuing Buddha’s way
70% of the practice is completed through food
Do people live to eat
Or do people eat to live
That is a question
We don’t communicate with food solely through taste
We see, hear, smell, taste and feel with our heart
That is true enjoyment