ediblesf.com | 19 [San Francisco] Zen Center was founded,” he says. “We’ve just been cooking it for 50 years.” I try to picture it: 50 years of people— longtime practitioners, weekend guests, retreat participants—moved to tears by oatmeal and cheese cubes. When I ask why he thinks it affects people this way, he considers the question. “I feel like this practice brings you closer to yourself, right?” he says. “And gets you out of the world of performing or wearing a mask for anyone else.” He pauses, quiet and thoughtful, suggesting something philosophical is coming. Taking advantage, I lean in with a big question. “How would you define zen comfort food?” I watch his response. “Oh, gosh. We cook just real-ass comfort food too,” he laughs. The levity enters like sunshine. He tells me about serving mac and cheese after groups of people sat in silent meditation from 5am to 7:30pm for an all-day intensive monastic practice. But Zenko draws menu inspiration from everywhere: one night, Jamaican; the next, Korean; then Georgian or Hawaiian soul food. His cooking philosophy is rooted in the Tenzo Kyokun, a 13th-century text for the monastery cook written by Dogen, founder of the Soto Zen school. “We chant it every day in the kitchen,” he tells me. “It’s all about kitchen mindfulness.” “The Buddha way is actualized by rolling up your sleeves,” Zenko quotes, his favorite aphorism. This guides the entire community, from kitchen to fields. Each night, the Tenzo Kyokun instructs cooks to close their eyes and consider each and every one of their 80plus members—the same community that sits in silence each morning, that tends the farm with the same deliberate care. “To judge how much they're gonna eat or if they’re a little sick and eat a little less,” Zenko explains. He calls it “farmer zen”—not the elite samurai practice but the common wisdom of country temples. He knows who needs softer food, who’s recovering, who might be extra hungry from farm work. This attention saturates everything at Green Gulch. Every object receives consideration— brooms are positioned to preserve their bristles, ovens are given a full week off at New Year's. When I ask Zenko to define comfort without using warm, he says simply: “Intimacy is comfort. When you’re distant from what you’re doing or distant from yourself, that’s uncomfortable. To be intimate with ingredients, intimate with your body. And intimate with the present.” To demonstrate, he shows me his famous three-bean miso soup. “It can take whatever you put into it. If all you have is one shriveled carrot and half an onion and a little bit of sesame oil, you can make this soup.” “You’re forgiven for whatever you add.” The way he says it, I understand this extends beyond the kitchen. Green Gulch Farm Zen Center welcomes visitors for Sunday programs, retreats, and offers residential Zen apprenticeships—visit sfzc.org/green-gulch-farm for reservations and details. 1 Umpan mealtime gong 2 Zenko as Tenzo 3 13th century text 4 Contemplation 5 Orchard meditation On the next page 1 Comfort on a saddle—recipe courtesy of Zenko Montgomery 5 "Intimacy is comfort. When you're distant from yourself, that's uncomfortable." 3 4
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