Devotees, Diet, and the Great Onion And Schnapps Drama

Let’s talk about the underground devotee debate of eating garlic, onions, fish, eggs, and having caffeine and alcohol drinks. Or as it’s sometimes framed:

“Can you even spell bhakti if you drink coffee?”

Relax. Breathe. Put the pitchfork down.

This article is not here to police plates or sniff lunchboxes. It’s here to explain the why, poke gentle fun at our collective seriousness, and—most importantly—bring the focus back to bhakti, where it belongs.

Why These Foods Get a Bad Reputation (And No, It’s Not Because Krishna Is Petty)

In the Gaudiya Vaishnava tradition, food isn’t just calories—it’s consciousness, mode, and mood, how it is prepared and served. But my guess is that you already know all that. What we eat subtly shapes the mind we bring to chanting, hearing, and serving. In fact, that is not my core point I want to pitch. But before I get to that, let me play along a bit.

🧄 Garlic & 🧅 Onions

These sit in the rajasic–tamasic zone. They stimulate, agitate, and—let’s be honest—make japa feel like mental parkour. Are they sinful? No. Do they help meditation? Also no.

They’re discouraged not because they’re “evil,” but because they tend to pull the mind outward—toward restlessness, passion, or dullness.

Krishna doesn’t faint if you eat onion rings. But your mind might do backflips during japa.

🐟 Fish & 🥚 Eggs

Here we cross into ahimsa territory. The Vaishnava standard aims for food that involves the least harm and can be offered to Krishna. Meat, fish, and eggs don’t fit that framework. Srila Prabhupada mentioned that several times, including mushrooms, yeast bread, and "karmi food" at large. That said, let’s be very clear—many sincere devotees are still transitioning.

Bhakti is a process, not a switch. Krishna is a person, not a cosmic food inspector.

☕ Coffee (Yes, Let’s Talk About the Sacred Bean)

Ah yes. Coffee. The unofficial fourth regulative principle, which includes drinking tea as well.

Is coffee intoxicating? Technically no. Is it stimulating? Absolutely. Does half the devotee community secretly rely on it? Let’s not lie in the temple room. Some give it up easily. Some wrestle with it for years. Some quit coffee and immediately become proud, which—ironically—is far worse for bhakti. Caffeine doesn’t block Krishna. Ego does. As promised, I untie that later.

The “Occasional Drink” Clause 🍷🥃

Then there is the matter of alcohol—usually introduced softly, respectfully, and very occasionally, of course. A little wine at dinner.A schnapps at a celebration. A small glass justified by culture, health, or moderation. The explanations tend to sound familiar: “It’s only now and then.” “It’s part of our tradition.” “It relaxes me.” “I don’t get intoxicated.”

The issue is not that devotees struggle—many do. The issue is when struggle is quietly rebranded as maturity or balance. What begins as “occasional” often becomes normalized, then defended, and finally reframed as spiritually harmless. At that point, honesty has already slipped away.

Bhakti does not demand instant purity, but it does require truthfulness. There is a difference between admitting weakness and philosophically insulating it. Kṛṣṇa is far more patient with sincere effort than with carefully worded justifications. Occasional or not, the real question is simple: Does this bring me closer to dependence on Kṛṣṇa—or just help me feel comfortable with my anarthas?

The Real Line: Offering vs. Personal Struggle

Here’s the key distinction that often gets lost in food debates: 👉 What we offer to Krishna should follow clear devotional standards. 👉 What we personally struggle with is between us, our conscience, and Krishna. Don't insult Him by giving it on His plate! He is a personality!

Offering onion subji and pakoras to the Deity? Not just not recommended, but nastily insulting. Believe it or not, there is an outstanding Vaishnava line that offers fish to the Deity. A neophyte devotee working through habits while chanting sincerely? Very much welcome.

Bhakti grows by connection, not by culinary perfection. Needless to say, culinary art is a large piece of the sweet cake connecting us to Krishna.

The Bigger Danger: (Not Only) Dietary Pride 🍽️😇

Let’s be honest. Śrīmad Bhāgavatam spends far more time warning us about pride, self-deception, and offenses than about garlic, onions, or the occasional questionable act.

Why? Because the real danger isn’t what’s on the plate—it’s what we do with it in our mind.

Pride is subtle. It doesn’t always shout, “I am pure!”Often it whispers, “My attachments are reasonable… enlightened… unavoidable.”

And just like that, pride becomes a theological defense lawyer for our weaknesses. A devotee who chants sincerely while still struggling is far closer to Kṛṣṇa than one who eats and acts “perfectly” but secretly feeds on comparison, judgment, and self-importance.

If your diet makes you softer, humbler, and more dependent on the Holy Name, then it’s helping you. But if it makes you defensive, dismissive, argumentative, and quietly superior, then congratulations—you’ve discovered tamasic sattva: externally clean, internally sticky.

What Our Ācāryas Actually Emphasized

Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, and Śrīla Prabhupāda were strict about principles—but merciless toward pretension. They emphasized:

• gradual purification, not instant sainthood

• sincerity over performance

• practice over posture

  
  

They taught transformation, not spiritual cosplay. None of them encouraged us to rebrand attachment as depth or weakness as nuance.

Final Thought (Read This Slowly)

Kṛṣṇa is not waiting for you to become a flawless eater. He is waiting for you to stop bargaining with your ego and turn toward Him—again and again. If giving up certain foods strengthens your chanting—wonderful. If you are still negotiating with your habits, be honest and keep walking. Just don’t confuse rationalization for realization. Unfortunately, there are many examples of ego-based bargaining dressed up as spiritual reasoning. I mention them not to discourage anyone, but to place them honestly within the equation.

This tendency is largely seen in movements like Krishna (Cosplay) West and similar currents, where cherry-picking, selective reinterpretations, and twisting Śrīla Prabhupāda’s words seem to have no clear endpoint. While these discussions currently focus more on dress and presentation than on diet yet, the underlying psychology is the same.

I have also encountered another group of devotees whose approach was more directly dietary. Garlic and onions were consumed freely. Eggs were brushed aside with remarks like, “I don’t really worry about that.” Coffee three times a day was treated as a harmless addiction delight. Not everyone engaged in rationalization, but some did greatly. The recurring mantras were familiar:

• “It’s healthy.”

• “It’s no big deal.”

• “Why don’t you enjoy it too, like me?”

• “I think it can be offered to Kṛṣṇa—I just need to ask such-and-such Mahārāja.”

  
  

Hearing this from devotees who have practiced Kṛṣṇa bhakti for decades—and who even speak confidently about rasa-līlā—is sobering. I would expect greater care and understanding, not more sophisticated excuses.

Yes, bhakti is a process—sometimes a very long one. But progress is not measured by how well we defend our attachments, rather by how honestly we confront them and cry about them.

Personally, I don't get it, since Srila Prabhupada gave us such wonderful prasada.

Hare Kṛṣṇa 🙏