Once the offering was set and the kitchen “altar” sealed, we all attended the magnificent installation arati that was performed by Srila Prabhupada personally. The entire team had been working for twelve or fourteen hours straight, and we were dazzled by the change of focus from the intensity of cooking and serving to the ebullience of the arati celebration. This was the first time the temple was packed wall to wall. In addition to hundreds of Srila Prabhupada’s disciples from around the world, invited dignitaries and residents of Vrindavan packed the temple to capacity. I had brought a small Sony tape recorder and a Minolta camera for times like this. Acyutananda Swami led the arati, singing Yasomatinandana Brajabara Nagara in a particularly loving and beautiful mood. I tried to stay close to him to get a better recording but then saw that I could make my way toward the altar of Gour Nitai to see and photograph Srila Prabhupada offering each item of arati paraphernalia. I was behind newly renounced Tripurari Maharaja when Vishaka Devi asked him to move so she could take the famous photo of Srila Prabhupada offering arati to Krishna and Balaram, and the swami moving aside allowed me to take my own photos as Srila Prabhupada progressed from altar to altar. It was a bit too dark for my old-style film camera, and a number the photos I took are a little blurred; but still they document those incredibly powerful moments.

The next day we got down to business. After an equally exciting and beautiful morning program with Srila Prabhupada, the kitchen team set about establishing a plan for executing all the daily offerings. Raj Bhog was twenty-five dishes for ten Deity plates...every day. Apurva asked me to become Anand Maharaj’s assistant. So I would help him make six to eight dishes and also make a few myself. This would soon turn into a daily ritual. With notebook in hand, I documented as many of the recipes as possible observing every nuance of ingredients, techniques and mindset. Today they appear to be basic notes, almost cryptic, but if one is familiar with ingredients and general Oriyan-style cooking, they become a window into the beautiful prasadam cuisine of Krsna and Balaram.  One of those dishes, Jagannath Puri Dal, was a recipe Anand specifically demonstrated as the same historic dish offered to Lord Jagannath and served to the masses of pilgrims in Puri. Jagannath Puri Dal is featured in the Feast cookbook with Kurma das and Apurva das.  

Preparing the twenty-five dishes every day proved to be almost as challenging as the big installation feast. We split up cooking duties, but it was still a challenge since the propane ran out quickly and we only had three, sometimes four working kerosene stoves. Coal was the option of last resort and only used when we were down to one or two kerosene stoves. The adobe-style wood stove out back was not close enough to the kitchen. We also had limited grinding stones and other supportive equipment. Of course, this was before most electronics were available in India. Blenders were rare, only seen at mango-shake wallas in the market. Food processors did not exist. After a few weeks, I had a little money sent by my parents. My father had been chanting sixteen rounds a day, and he wholeheartedly supported my Indian adventures. I decided to go to Delhi for a day or two to see what I could pick up and was inspired to find something like Srila Prabhupada’s brass cooker. After hours of searching in various markets around Chandni Chowk, I finally found something similar at a stainless steel tiffin shop. They had steel canisters that a four-level tiered tiffin could slide into. After putting the right amount of water in and sealing the top with a steel cap that fit like a sleeve, it would fit on a kerosene single burner stove and cook four preparations at once—usually dal, rice and a couple of vegetables. In addition, I found some nice heavy flat granite grinding stones with pestles. This was the best way to grind soaked dals for baras and dry spices for masalas and green chutneys, such as podina (mint) or dhanya (fresh coriander). This ancient method absorbed the right amount of moisture, making for a perfect balance. Needless to say, I had to be creative with carrying such large and heavy purchases on the second-class train back to Mathura and then by tonga to the front gate of the Krsna Balaram Mandir.

Implementing these cookers along with the extra grinding stones and miscellaneous stainless steel utensils had a big effect on productivity for Raj Bhog cooking. With the cookers alone, we were now able to cook eight dishes with two kerosene burners. The preparations simply had to be finished with tempering and spicing.

I quickly settled back into the daily routine of helping Anand with the added volume of dishes. He did not speak English but spoke five major Indian dialects. I would ask a name and record it, but we did most of the communication using Hindi names and hand gestures, something natural to me with my Greek American upbringing. Prabhas had been close to Anand for a number of years and was available to translate most of the time when necessary. Sometimes Pradyumna would come by and translate. One time he told a story of Anand’s family in Orissa, that they had gone back six generations as cooks for Lord Jagannatha in Puri. The Rathayatra cart even famously stopped once for Anand’s grandfather.

One day Anand burned his arm. He quickly made a plaster paste of turmeric and applied it to the wound, laughing it off like nothing had happened. He was generally jolly and pleasing to be around. His joyful nature and compassion were contagious.

Anand started his day with one and a half hours of chanting prayers while massaging mustard oil on his body before Mangal Aroti. I could see and hear him every morning as I passed on the way to the temple room to chant Japa.

Every morning we attended Mangal Arati. The air was very cool, and we were all a bit groggy at times. Anand would frequently lead Mangal Arati. His voice was not a singer’s voice, but his love and enthusiasm made up for any external doubts one may have had.

Anand was known for taking care of everyone around him. Throughout his time with Srila Prabhupada’s disciples, he would cook for and personally serve the devotees. After cooking the Raj Bhog for Krsna and Balaram, I would see him take any scraps to the side gate of the temple property and feed cows, dogs and other animals.

Some of the most treasured memories of Vrindavan during those days were the many relationships developed with devotees. We had great conversations and would take opportunities to do things together. Many afternoons we had some time to go into town and visit temples and sacred places. In those days, everything Vrindavan would shut down for a siesta in the afternoon.  Since there was a limited window for us between offerings, we had to time visits in order to visit temples and businesses.  On the other hand, outside of the blazing heat of the sun, we could visit many sacred spaces. One such afternoon, Apurva, myself, Prabhasa and either Bhoumadeva or Urukrama walked down the sandy parikrama path past Kaliya Ghat and Radha Mandana Mohan Temple to the Yamuna. We had purchased a bunch of fresh fat mangoes that were just beginning to come into season and purchased a watermelon freshly picked out of a field on the bank of the Yamuna River. Everything was hot from the sun, so we submerged the mangos and watermelon in the shallow water near the riverbank. After chanting for some time, maybe forty-five minutes, we offered the fruits to Srila Prabhupada and enjoyed a feast of wonderfully sweet mangoes and cool refreshing watermelon. With more fruits than we could handle, the remaining fruit was donated to some mendicants who were walking by. Their joyful “Jaya Radhe’s” and smiling faces conveyed their appreciation. We then returned to prepare the evening offerings and attend the evening program.

With the temple just opening, the only place to reside for devotees who served was the guest house. I shared an upper floor room with Urukrama from NYC. I remember him as a quiet devotee, fixed in his service to Srila Prabhupada. The intensity of the kitchen wasn’t a good fit for him, but we took whoever was there to assist and he was very sincere. As the months crept toward the hot season, the only way to cool off at night was to keep water nearby in a clay pot that cooled as it was evaporating. Drinking the cool water or putting a damp cloth on the head was all the relief one could get.

The open atrium of the guesthouse lent it itself toward socializing.  Some afternoons, Narottamananda and I would spend time on the veranda discussing different preparations to prepare for Krishna.  One of those dishes became a recipe in the Feast Book written with Apurva and Kurma called Chicago Saffron Cream Halava. 

Dhananjaya and Aksayananda Swami were co-presidents at that time and Gunarnava was the temple commander. It was a difficult job to transition from construction site to a fully operational Vrindavan temple. They were completely dependent on Srila Prabhupada’s instructions since no one had experience of this intense kind of work, especially with all the details necessary to address in Vrindavan. The early history of ISKCON was full of projects no one had accomplished before. Srila Prabhupada’s personal energy and determination is what drove us.

Once the temple opened, there were still many austerities and a constant flow of devotees going in and out. It was a struggle to keep energized and maintain proper focus. Apurva and I met Ayurvedic doctors and even a well-known astrologer around Loi Bazaar. We had to be careful because Vrindavan residents often saw Western devotees mainly as a source of unparalleled income. The astrologer wanted me to join him to establish and run an astrology institute. While flattered, I was wary and have always wondered what he saw in my chart.

It was interesting to see the medicines and potions being made and the herbs harvested. One example I recall was gold and pearl dust ground together in a marble mortar and pestle with turmeric root and then buried under a neem tree for sixty days. Later, I found similar methods espoused by Rudolph Steiner’s Biodynamic approach to farming and health. I became friends with Pranava Prabhu and his wife Vanamali. Pranava was making traditional Ayurvedic medicinal recipes he had learned from his grandfather. Some of the memorable ones were an eye potion for improving vision, a white grape juice made from a specific miniature white grape with Bramhi in it for the brain, and a method of using rock candy with cracked black peppercorns and soaked early-harvest almonds as a memory-enhancing tonic. The eye potion was sold to De Pharmaceutical in Calcutta, the same company Srila Prabhupada had started. Pranava had known Srila Prabhupada before he left for the USA. Vanamali was a great cook. In my free time, they would teach me how to prepare several traditional dishes. Here is a recipe used frequently for offerings and feasts. 

Vanamali’s Matri

      Make a rich dough from three-parts of maida flour, one-part suji, salt, and cracked black peppercorns or ajwain seed, 2 ladles ghee and a few sprinkles water.  Make the dough stiff and make one-inch patties with the hands.  Roll into 2” discs and fry in ghee at medium heat until golden and flaky.

One memorable evening was the celebration of Ban Bihari. Many of us brahmacaris joined Aksayananda Swami, at his insistence, in the evening Ban Bihari Vrindavan parikrama. Compared to the insufferable heat of the day at around 45°C (113°F), the evening was cooler at around 26°C (78.8°F)—cool enough to go from station to station, which were set up along the way serving colored sweet beverages, melons, and a cucumber beverage. It was a magical time in Vrindavan with most of the temples open for evening Darshan and decorated with candles, lights and flowers. We did the entire parikrama and performed kirtan all the way, only stopping for Darshan of the beautiful Deities. This was a sweet respite from the day-to-day schedule in the middle of the impending hot season.

Almost three months had passed, and it was time to start thinking about getting a visa extension or returning to the USA. I was on the fence but noticed many people getting sick in the temple community. Not all at once, but there seemed to be a proliferation of diseases like hepatitis, typhus, yellow fever and malaria. I began to feel it was only a matter of time before I became infected, so the decision was made to return to the Cleveland temple. Before doing so, Apurva and I managed to do an all-night circumambulation of Govardhan Hill with a trip to Radhakunda where we could spend a night in a bhajan kutir right next to the kund and owned by Dhira Krishna das. A local character, Krsna Das Babaji (not Srila Prabhupada’s godbrother), who used to take devotees around on mini tours, hosted our pilgrimage. Govardhan Hill was incredible, and we were introduced to a number of sadhus and some babajis who conducted dandavat parikrama. They did their dandavats in one spot 108 times, and carry a bag of 108 stones to use to count each dandavat. We were hosted and offered sweet prasad tidbits. We also met a grand-disciple of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati in a short break from the walking. He was enthusiastic about Srila Prabhupada’s accomplishments, especially how he took Lord Chaitanya’s movement around the world. The next night we slept in the bhajan kutir right next to Radhakunda, and I had a vivid dream of helping to move Lord Jagannatha from one temple to another. That morning Apurva was dipping his hand in Radhakunda to offer respect, and he slipped and fell in. He felt terrible because at that time we had been told not to swim there, yet reflecting on it years later, I think he was “dipped in the waters of Bhakti” and benefits to this day. We spent the day visiting the holy sites of Radhakunda. 

We visited Bhaktivinoda Thakur’s house and his temple next door. To my shock, in the temple I recognized the same Jagannatha Deities as in my dream and had never seen any that looked like that before. These tall, somewhat thin Jagannath Deities are unique and recognizable. 

Lifelong friendships

We were there for Srila Prabhupada and his mission and all of us fostered lifelong deep friendships around that common bond. Apurva and I have stayed in touch. He brought the Feast Book project to my attention, and it was a pleasure and a beautiful outlet for sharing the treasures Srila Prabhupada has given us. Bhoumadeva has been a great friend for many years. He resides in Detroit not far from me and has made a difference for so many. Prabhas married former Cleveland devotee Bisalakshi Devi, and we have stayed close for decades. Prabhas and Bisalakshi have been a spiritual touchstone for me. Bhojadeva left soon after the installation and we never connected again, but we sent greetings recently and it felt like we could pick up right where we left off in Vrindavan. Srila Prabhupada’s disciples have been direct instruments for enabling Srila Prabhupada’s spiritual vision to become a reality, some of us only for a short time, some for a lifetime.

Cooking Notes

Over the years, I have often reflected on my time serving at Krsna Balaram Mandir in Vrindavan. In 1975, I was young, optimistic and willing to dive into projects believing the effort would help guarantee success. Since we had the guidance of Srila Prabhupada, devotees collectively felt we were doing the right thing based on the solid foundation of Srila Prabhupada’s teachings. Even when out of the kitchen, not directly helping to please Their Lordships, we chanted, held kirtan, read Srila Prabhupada’s books, and tried to absorb what it meant to be a Brajbasi if we were to stay.

In this light, I was observing, listening and learning every moment as possible. Much of what I learned about prasadam preparation was achieved by trying to understand the mindset of the original cook. Srila Prabhupada had given us a head start with his teachings and association. Now that I was interacting with his godbrother Anand, it was about learning how he applied the same lessons when cooking for Krishna and His devotees. Much of this learning was intuitive and a good amount was observing expressions, deftness of movement, and focus. Every detail was significant and was a connection to a parampara of cooking with versions of 5,000-year-old traditions. As we learned from Srila Prabhupada, these traditions are spiritual and at their core meant to express and further develop our personal relationship with the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Krishna.

With each preparation Anand made, I would ask him the name of the dish. Sometimes there was a name, other times it was a short description of ingredients. One dish he made that stands out in memory is Lauki Dokha, a sweet flavored and almost savory dish.  Here is the description from my notebook with some clarifications to make it a recipe.

Lauki Dokha

--Masala

On a grinding stone, create a masala of 1 teaspoon cumin seed, a couple of cloves, pinch of hing, black peppercorns, 2 cardamom pods, 1 tej patta (bay leaf) and 2 ½ tablespoons ground posta (white poppyseed) and 1 teaspoon ground cumin.  Temper with a little extra ghee and save.

--Lauki

Add ½ teaspoon turmeric, 2 cups cubed peeled loki and 1 ½  cups cubed peeled potatoes together with 2 cups water. Cook until lauki are soft and potatoes are stiff, drain, separate potatoes and mash lauki to a pulp and strain through a cheesecloth.  Add 1 cup whole wheat flour for 3 cups pulp altogether.  Add salt.  Make balls and fry in ghee until golden.  Fry boiled potatoes separately. 

--Finish

Add fried potatoes and lauki balls to masala.  Add a sprinkle of salt and ½ teaspoon ground cardamom and ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon.  Also, add ¼ to ½ cups sugar, stirring in very well.  Add water almost to the top and boil.  Add a little water to 2 tablespoons whole wheat flour to make a slurry..  Add to the dokha.  After a few minutes it is done.

Other Notes

When Anand made pakoras, he would add kalonji (nigella) seeds to the batter, which is something I took with me to Cleveland, Detroit, Chicago and New York. Not only did this add a subtle flavor, but the visual appearance of each breaded vegetable was more pleasing. With his many decades of cooking experience, he would dip the vegetable in a besan batter and often lay it in the wok, submerging his fingers in the hot bubbling ghee. This never ceased to impress us.

We did not have many tight-fitting lids for pots and certainly no foil. Outside of the cookers purchased in New Delhi, there wasn’t a good way to seal a rice pot or seal a batch of rasagullas so they had enough pressure to puff up. The age-old secret was chapati dough, and we planned ahead to make enough for this use. Rolling out a small snake of dough the length of the circumference of the pot and applying it to the rim would allow the lid to seal tightly. As the dish cooked, so did the dough and it would enhance the seal yet be fairly easy to clean off when done.

In 1975, stainless steel cookware was just beginning to develop. In India, stainless steel pots were readily available, but not in clad versions that created even heat and reduced burning. Stainless steel was good for steaming, cooking dal, boiling sugar syrups, and many similar methods but performed erratically when a sautéing component was important. This was the case for most subjis, toasting semolina for halava, and anything needing a little caramelization. The preferred tried and true medium we had available was tin-lined brass pots. They were the closest to non-stick that we had. There weren’t many cast iron pots or enamel clad iron available as in the West. We did have some heavier iron tawa plates that were good for chapatis, parathas, etc. For cutting, knife choices were basic. Since the entire kitchen was marble, we would clean an area and cut directly on the marble. We also used the floor knives where one would sit holding down the wood base and push the vegetable into the upraised razor-sharp iron blade. When combined with the fact that there wasn’t any refrigeration, no reliable heat source, and a rustic assortment of tools, this kitchen was more akin to the previous centuries than to today’s kitchens fitted with high-tech cookware, refrigeration, and electric appliances.

Another look at those times reveals that we were experiencing a local market-based economy built around Vaishnava traditions. Everyone would shop at the markets daily, dealing with farmers, looking for the best vegetables to prepare for Krishna. There was no refrigeration, and there weren’t any leftovers. All the prepared food was eaten daily by humans and sometimes animals. It was a different way to perceive ingredients and a more direct connection between the soil and the end user. On top of this, since the food prepared was offered to Krishna, every morsel was important. We learned to be efficient with ingredients, not wasting anything, even using what we would call waste in the West such as stems, peelings, etc. There was a sustainable avenue for everything.

In those days before plastics, every village still had a potter who made single-use clay cups that were fired right there. After use, there was a pit to dispose of the cups that would be regularly covered and allowed to reintegrate with the soil. High-end serving was on silver plates or banana leaves. Since the climate in Vrindavan was more temperate, we often served on very basic single-use leaf plates sewn together with little pieces of twigs.

Prabhupada’s Pastimes

The Krsna Balaram Mandir was Srila Prabhupada’s first big temple project. We were so excited for the ever-expanding future of ISKCON that many of us did not take the time to appreciate how unique and important this project was. The Mandir manifested because of Srila Prabhupada’s love for Krishna and his unique qualifications for executing the order of his guru maharaj, Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakur. Many of these recollections are expressed as “we” because, as disciples of Srila Prabhupada, we worked together to please him day and night.

Each morning our day officially began with Mangal Arati at the Krsna Balaram Mandir. I recall remembering the days, weeks and months before that culminated with Srila Prabhupada personally offered aroti. These magical events were at the core of our thoughts and meditations. It was through the love for his guru that we were able to have this opportunity to serve Krishna on his behalf. We knew our faults, yet before the magnificence of his pure love for Krishna, distractions were put aside to assist Srila Prabhupada.

The fleeting moments of association with Srila Prabhupada and being there to assist him in his service to his guru maharaj are clear seminal moments of this lifetime. Srila Prabhupada was able to visually re-manifest for our clouded vision what eternal Vrindavan is. He successfully brought the Holy Name to the entire world and forwarded Lord Chaitanya’s desire like no one before or since.

Gopati dasa ACBSP

www.prasad.life.com