The Flavors of Flowers

Enlarge Image Image Gallery Edible flowers, ­including calendula, dianthus, and ­Johnny-jump-ups, dot this omelette like beautiful ­confetti.

I REMEMBER EATING FLOWERS as a small child. I recall the pure, sweet flavor of a rose petal and the clovelike spiciness of a dianthus flower plucked from the garden. My father, who had shown me how to suck the sweet nectar from wild honeysuckle blossoms, was nonetheless upset when he caught me eating garden flowers. He didn’t realize that many flowers are edible and, in fact, have been esteemed as food throughout the world for millennia.

Far more flowers show up on dinner plates now than they did ten years ago, when I first started working with edible flowers. Edible flowers are found in restaurants from coast to coast, featured in magazines, and included in cookbooks, but most people still regard them only as garnishes. Rarely are flowers appreciated for their unusual, varied flavors.

If you think that herb flowers are a pretty but superfluous part of the plant, think again. Most are a subtle seasoning in their own right, with a flavor similar to but milder than that of the leaf.

Given that more than seventy kinds of plants (and their cultivars) produce flowers that are safe to eat, the culinary possibilities are almost limitless. In developing flower recipes, I’ve come to place flowers into flavor groups such as herbal, sweet, and floral. On pages 34, 35, and 36, I’ve listed edible flowers according to flavor, including some, such as bitter, that may not appeal to everyone. Familiarize yourself with flowers in each of these groups, then learn how to use them as food.

When I began to cook with flowers, I used one kind at a time. Before long, I was mixing complementary flavors in recipes much as I would herb leaves. Now I sprinkle flower blends like confetti on mashed potatoes and grilled fish, mix them into butter or softened cream cheese, and scatter them over ice cream and other desserts. I use sweet flowers in desserts, savory flowers with meats, and both for salads and cheese dips and spreads. Sometimes I even coordinate flower colors, such as pinkish mauve chives with rose-of-Sharon, sage, and thyme.

Toward the end of the gardening season, I mix flowers of similar flavors into cream cheese or butter, form the mixture into balls, wrap them in plastic wrap, and freeze them. In the depths of winter, when the colors and flavors of flowers are sure to cheer me, I can use flower balls to add flavor and color to dips, vegetables, and breads. (“Now & Then” on page 89 features a recipe for a flower butter.)