A Pink by Any Other Name?
Around this time of year, a curious patch of sage green stems sprout out from the garden patches on both sides of the driveway and burst into shades of pink, a quiet display of miniature fireworks in blush, fuscia and magenta. The flowers, with their wispy, frayed ends and dark centres, remind me of little straw hats viewed from above. My grandfather, a quiet man of flowers and garden peas, likes to point out their delicate fragrance, asking me to lean in until the petals are tickling the tip of my nose, and to breathe in. “What’s that smell?” he’ll ask, with genuine curiosity. I inhale, taking in a pleasant floral aroma tinged with spice, a bouquet of cloves with a hint of pepper.
This year, when I mentioned the newly bloomed bursts of pink by the driveway, my grandfather had a different question for me. “What are they?” he asked. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet? Apparently not.
I couldn’t tell if he was merely wondering, or if he truly expected me to provide an answer. Had he once known, and was now searching his memory for an elusive string of sounds? Had he forgotten, perhaps, that my knowledge of flowers extended little further than telling daffodils from dandelions? Then again, although I may not be the walking encyclopedia that I was sometimes accused of being in grade school, I am the one who carries one in her pocket.
A few minutes of scrolling through a catalogue of garden flowers and I found what I was looking for: a name for our spicy pink fireworks: Dianthus plumarius, commonly known as pinks. I reported my findings, but now that my rose had a name, I found that it was smelling considerably sweeter. Perhaps it was because in my brief search, I had gleaned the knowledge that these understated beauties were also perfectly edible.
That, my friend, is enough to make the curious cook in me suddenly much more interested in this little pink flower. I’ve always delighted in flowers. Not in the way an art historian looks at The Starry Night, but in the way most of us gaze at a sunset, ignorant of the physics that makes the colours change, or the evolutionary biology and neurobiology that gives us that sense of awe. I had thought thus far that a nose and a pair of eyes were sufficient for the enjoyment of flowers. Unless you also wanted to add a tongue, which is what I was about to do. And on the way, maybe I would become, like my grandfather, a person of flowers.
Flower of the Gods
The word Dianthus comes from the Greek dios (god) and anthos (flower). The name first appeared in the works of Theophrastus, a Greek philosopher and naturalist, in the fourth century B.C. The name now refers to a genus which includes over 300 species of plants native not only to Europe, but also to Asia, North Africa and even the arctic.
An illustration of Dianthus plumarius, from Edward Step’s book Favourite Flowers of Garden and Greenhouse (1986)
“When it is said that the name […] given to them by the old Greek philosopher Theophrastus in the fourth century B.C., it will be understood that their beauties were appreciated at an early date,” wrote Edward Step in his flowery flower book, published in 1896. Indeed, the aesthetic pleasure of this flower extended to the kitchen, where it was used, by both the Greeks and the Romans, to garnish a variety of dishes.
I don’t know if all species in the Dianthus genus are edible, but common garden varieties, such as carnations (Dianthus caryophyllus), pinks (Dianthus plumarius) and sweet williams (Dianthus barbatus), definitely are.
An illustration of canations (Dianthus caryophyllus), another edible Dianthus flower, from Edward Step’s book Favourite Flowers of Garden and Greenhouse (1986)
Harvesting and Storing Edible Flowers
The first and most important rule is never eat flowers unless you can identify them with absolute certainty. Many flowers are toxic to humans. It is also important only to use flowers that come from clean, uncontaminated soils, and have not been sprayed with pesticides. Frances Bissell, in her book, The Scented Kitchen: Cooking with Flowers, offers these additional tips on harvesting and storing flowers for use in the kitchen:
It is best to pick flowers on a dry day, and in the early part of the day, after the dew has dried but before the sun is hot enough to evaporate the essential oils. Choose fully open specimens, undamaged by insects or disease. Shake them to remove any tiny insects. Use your judgement as to whether or not the flowers should be rinsed. If so, do it quickly in ice cold water, and lay the flowers to dry on two or three layers of paper towels before proceeding with the recipe. It is best to use the flowers within a few hours of picking, but if you do need to store them for a day or two, surround them with a damp – not wet – tea-towel and seal them in an airtight box in the refrigerator.
Joëlle
Serves 2-3
A delicious salad and a feast for the eyes! This mizuna salad is topped with fresh berries, toasted pecans, soft sheep feta, chives and a poppy seed dressing. Edible pink petals from the garden add colour and a spicy, floral aroma.
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Ingredients
- 2 cups mizuna
- 1/4 cup sliced strawberries
- 1/4 cup blueberries
- 1/4 cup pecans, toasted
- 1/4 cup sheep's milk feta
- 1/8 cup red onion, thinly sliced
- 2 tbsp chopped chives
- 6-8 snap peas, ends removed, cut into thirds
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- 1 tbsp white wine vinegar
- 1 tbsp shio koji
- 2 tsp poppy seeds
- 1 tsp maple syrup
- 1 tsp dijon mustard
- 1 shallot
- Black pepper
- Poppy seeds
- Dianthus petals (optional)
Instructions
- Prepare the dressing by mixing all the ingredients together in a small bowl. Set aside.
- Toast pecans in a small skillet over medium heat until browned and fragrant (a few minutes)
- Wash mizuna and cut crosswise into 5 cm lengths.
- Put chopped mizuna into a serving bowl, and layer on the rest of the ingredients.
- Right before serving, drizzle on the dressing and garnish with extra poppy seeds and dianthus petals (if using).
Notes
Shio koji (塩麹) is a lacto-fermented mixture of rice koji (rice inoculated with aspergillus oryzae spore -- the basis for many well-know Japanese ferments such as miso, sake and soy sauce). It provides enzymes and probiotics while imparting the dish with a unique umami flavour. You can substitute sea salt, himalayan salt or fish sauce. To learn more about shio koji, how to make it at home, and how to use it in the kitchen, click here.
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References
Bissell, F. (2012). The Scented Kitchen: Cooking with Flowers. London: Serif.
Step, E. (1896). Favourite Flowers of Garden and Greenhouse (Vol. 1). London: Frederick Warne.
