Snapshots from Kyoto 1: Arashiyama, Shigetsu and Shojin Ryori

Arashiyama is an idyllic town in western Kyoto famed for the views of the Oi river and home to two UNESCO heritage sites – the bamboo forest and Tenryuji Temple. I arrived here at dawn, just in time to see the first light find its way through the heavy clouds to cast a golden hue over the still river. I was advised to visit Arashiyama early, before hoards of tourists descend on the place.

The bamboo forest was impressive, especially when you are one of the few early birds to meander through a grove of 20 metres-tall towering bamboo stalks. The hollow trunks sway in the mild wind, turning sunlight into a delicate jade green. A wonderful place to just soak in and appreciate the magnificence of nature.

On a second visit two weeks later, I returned with a friend to experience shojin ryori at Shigetsu, located in Tenryuji temple in Arashiyama. Shojin ryori is a Japanese vegetarian cuisine that originated from Buddhist temples and was popularised in the 13th Century. The two characters that form the word shojin means ‘spirit’ and ‘progress,’ and ryori means ‘cuisine.’ Preparing Shojin cuisine is an aspect of a monk’s zen training, involving self-discipline, humility, and focus, much like meditation. The idea is that by preparing and consuming simple, seasonal, unadulterated foods free of killing, a Buddhist monk can better progress along the path to enlightenment. The frugal dishes help monks break their bonds with flashy pleasures of the material world.

Shigetsu is one of the most well-known places to experience shojin ryori, partly due to its prime location. My friend and I made lunch reservations for the Snow course (¥3,300) at Shigetsu through their website two days prior. Upon arrival, we checked our reservations and were led by the hostess through a narrow corridor typical of a Japanese machiya to one of the rooms. Tatami mats lined the floor, upon which sat low wooden tables awaiting guests. The walls were bare, save for cream paper and wood screen along the room’s back that when opened revealed a small balcony overlooking the gardens of Tenryuji. The Japanese love to take advantage of what’s called a “borrowed view.” And for good reason: if Mother Nature can be your artist, why pay for Picasso?

We pretzelled our legs into a lotus position before a wooden table, as more guests entered and filled the room. Tourists from all over the world, judging by their looks and accents – India, Europe, China – exchanged excited glances in unspoken understanding. For many of us, it is our first time experiencing shojin ryori.

Trays were brought out promptly and each was laid on the wooden table in a buisness-like fashion. The Snow (cheapest) menu had rice, soup, five side dishes, pickles, dessert and tea, all laid out neatly in red lacquer bowls. I started with the soy miso soup, which contained tiny pinwheels of hydrated yuba that unfurled in the warm broth like miniature white roses. It looked pale and placid, but the umami flavour explodes in the mouth to whet the appetite. In lieu of meat, there was rehydrated wheat gluten (fu) that sat in an assuming clear broth. On top of it perched a roll of yuba, shiitake and a snap pea. As I chewed on the spongy wheat cake, the delicious sweet-salty broth burst out, interwoven with the sweet aroma of soy. It was one of the best dishes on the tray. The Zen temple staple sesame tofu (gomadofu) was satin smooth, treacherously wobbly, and as unctuous as a triple creme custard. The spot of wasabi and drizzle of soy sauce was just enough to compliment the nutty flavour of sesame. I also thoroughly enjoyed the kansai-style sakura mochi, which came with an unexpected savoury ankake sauce (I though mochi could only be sweet!) Additionally there were pickles, a konnyaku dish, broccoli with mustard sauce, but these three dishes were less spectacular.

As I went through the courses, I tried to observe the five principles of shojin ryori in practice – five colours (go shiki), five methods of cooking (go ho), five tastes (go mi), five senses (go kan) and five reflections (go kan mon). Five colours of food (red, yellow, green, white, black/purple) promote a natural balance of macro and micronutrients with a wide variety of foods. Five methods of cooking (raw, steamed, grilled, boiled, fried) help to limit excess seasonings, sodium and sugar, as well as give a variety of textures to savour. Five tastes (sweet, sour, salty, bitter, spicy) give a harmonious balance of flavours and ensures that our palates are pleasantly stimulated. Five senses reminds us not only to be mindful of taste, but also sight, sound, smell and touch/texture of food as we cook and enjoy food. To cross-reference from Ayurveda, diseases can arise when we overuse or misuse one or more of our senses. Five reflections are recited before partaking of the meal and encourage us to be mindful of our nourishment.

1. I reflect on the work that bring this food before me; let me see whence this food comes.
   (Respect the efforts of all those who contributed their toil to cultivating and preparing our food.)
2. I reflect on my imperfections, on whether I am deserving of this offering of food.
   (To do good deeds worthy of receiving such nourishment.)
3. Let me hold my mind free from greed.
   (To come to the table without passion.)
4. I take this food as an effective medicine to keep my body in good health.
   (To eat for temporal well-being.)
5. I accept this food so that I will fulfill my task of enlightenment.
   (To eat to attain and accomplish your spiritual purpose.)

Despite all that the temple had served us, we did not feel uncomfortably full. This made sense, since balance and harmony are essential to all shojin ryori meals. We walked out of the temple with nourished bellies and a peaceful mind, ready to continue our sightseeing plans, just like how good food should make you feel – a renewed sense of calm energy.

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