Flavour of flowers

The other day I was in that great emporium of gourmet food, Fortnum & Masons, in Piccadilly London and picked up their famous rose petal jelly.  It was a jelly, not a jam. At one time it was as commonplace as jam and marmalade, but now has all but disappeared. It is one of those old fashioned English treats which has not even surfaced in Prince Charles’s fogeyish attempt to recreate the past in his Duchy range of organic foods, such as thick bitter marmalade and shortbread biscuits. 

The rose petal jelly caused me to reflect on the gradual disappearance of scented leaves and flowers in cooking.  The provenance of this tradition is Middle Eastern. The crusaders brought the rose and other flavourings to Europe.  In India, it was introduced by the Islamic conquests.

If we take the rose for example, its uses in cooking were myriad. The most obvious is the distilled rose water. In North Indian cooking it would be added to savouries as well as sweet dishes.  Traditionally the white korma would not just be sprinkled with rose water, it would also be garnished with rose petals. 

This use of rose water was also apparent in European cooking.  A A Gill, the famous English food writer is at his purple and lyrical best when describing what rose water does: “Rose water has a weird fugitive flavour.  It is deceptively pervasive and quite unlike anything else.  Everything that is cooked with it tastes old fashioned and bosky.  It goes with the slow ticking of clocks, the humming of evening bees and the distinct bleating of checking down sheep.” For Gill, rose water held nostalgic significance, as it does to many of us. I recall my grandmother sprinkling rose water on the sheer korma served on Eid ul Fitr. 

Once you are able to source the right kind of roses — the traditional hybrid tea, large, deep red and highly scented — it is not difficult to make a rose petal preserve.  Simmer around 500gm of rose petals and 300ml of water for 3min, take off the heat and add around 450 grams of sugar and the juice of half a dozen small lemons and then proceed to simmer until the syrup is thick.  This preserve does not gel like ordinary jam as there is an absence of pectin in the petals. 

In India the pandanus plant [screw pine] is used widely for scenting and flavouring food to a greater degree than roses. The male flower of the pandanus is distilled and you get kewra. I recall buying the most exquisite kewra in Lucknow and sampling the various qualities rather like a wine tasting.  You can also use the fresh screw pine leaves, the scent is not as extravagant as the distilled version, but it still imparts a marvelous musky quality to whatever you are flavouring. 

One scent which is becoming very fashionable now and is used widely in our cooking is lemongrass. This is, presumably, because Thai influence and popularity of dishes like the green curry.  Lemongrass comes in all forms, fresh, dried and most conveniently powdered.  Lemongrass is easily and very cheaply available in our markets so one can dispense with alternatives.  It is a marvelous flavouring for tea.