The Ancient Romans experimented with a number of wild herbs for birth control, with varying degrees of success.
Recipes below: Limoncello Collins with Lemon Bitters and Mint; Roasted Zucchini with Mozzarella and Mint Pesto; Penne with Zucchini, Anchovies, Mint, and Pecorino
Down the road from my upstate house is an expanding patch of first-class wild mint grows amid downed trees, strawberries, and poison ivy. I first discovered it last spring. There are several spots of wild mint along the road, but this particular patch has the best flavor. It’s assertive, like all wild herbs, strongly spearmint but with a faint under hit of marjoram, giving it bitterness. Truly a beautiful thing.
A patch closer to my house, but only by about maybe ten yards, has an acrid flavor. I would never eat it. It seems to be biologically identical to the better one, but the difference in taste is dramatic. I didn’t understand that this could happen until I recently read Euell Gibbons’s Stalking the Healthful Herbs (a sequel to his more famous Stalking the Wild Asparagus). He says that the taste and aroma of any wild herb can differ dramatically depending on, well, I guess the word would be terroir. I was skeptical that the terroir from one end of my road to half way to the other end could vary so much. It’s the same slate-crammed soil in semi-shaded side-of-the-road situations. So what gives here? Maybe the plants nearby are different, and that affects the flavor? The inferior mint also seems to be growing on drier ground, maybe because it’s on a slightly hilly angle and the water flows away. I’m not sure I know what I’m talking about. Euell Gibbons would know, but unfortunately he’s now buried deep in his world of wild greens. I never imagined I’d be discussing Euell Gibbons, the Grape Nuts man from my childhood, in any context ever, but now he’s become a kind of hero to me. He was a great writer, funny too, and he really knew his wild plants. I’ll never make fun of Euell Gibbons again.
So this week I went about cooking with my good wild mint, adapting it to a few of my own classics. Mint with vegetables is a traditional Sicilian pairing, especially with first-of-the-season zucchini, which happens to be appearing right now. I made a simple pasta with zucchini and anchovies, something my mother used to cook, and it was elevated by the lovely but slightly in–your-face local spearmint. Then I made a pesto, which was also good, paired with zucchini as well.
I often get a caraway seed taste when I add spearmint to something hot, say the pasta with zucchini I tested for this post. Strange taste. I don’t get that when eating the leaves straight. I decided to do some research into this and was amazed to discover that mint and caraway both contain a molecule called carvone, which is what explains the odd flavor similarity, which must get released or at least amplified when heated. Has anyone else noticed this?
And about my cocktail. A few years back I was out for drinks with my Aunt Pat. She planned on ordering a regular old martini, but I knew she loved limoncello, so I suggested a martini made with that instead of vermouth. It was a hit (she may have had two). That drink is a little strong for me, so I came up with this fizzy version. I think the lemon bitters are essential, so maybe get yourself a bottle. They can really make so many drinks. I like Fee Brothers, because it doesn’t have a lot of Christmassy spices in it, like clove for instance, which many of the newer bitters contain. You really taste the lemon.
Just a final note on cooking with mint: All these recipes are created around spearmint. I hardly ever use peppermint in my dishes. It’s too sharp a taste to blend well with most ingredients. It makes a nice tea, though.
The better mint patch.
Limoncello Collins with Lemon Bitters and Mint
(Serves 1)
1 tablespoon limoncello
A big shot of vodka
3 dashes lemon bitters
1 big mint sprig, plus 2 mint leaves, lightly chopped
Ice
2 ounces seltzer
Pour all the ingredients except the mint spring into a shaker, and give it a good shake. Pour it into a tall glass, and garnish with the mint sprig.
Roasted Zucchini with Mozzarella and Mint Pesto
(Serves 4)
4 or 5 small summer zucchini, cut, on an angle into ½-inch elongated rounds
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Black pepper
A sprinking of Za’atar
A drizzle of lemon juice
1 big very fresh (ideally never refrigerated) mozzarella, sliced
A scattering of spearmint leaves
For the pesto:
About ½ cup spearmint leaves
2 sprigs marjoram, stemmed (in case you’d like to mimic the taste of my wild mint)
1 small summer garlic clove
A palmful of whole blanched almonds
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
To make the pesto, set up a medium-size pot of water, and bring it to a boil. Drop in the mint and marjoram leaves, and blanch them for about 30 seconds. Scoop the herbs from the water with a large strainer spoon, and place them in a colander. Run cool water over them to stop their cooking and preserve their green color. Squeeze out as much water as you can. This blanching will prevent oxidation so the pesto doesn’t darken quickly as it sits. Place the garlic and almonds in the bowl of a food processor, and pulse a few times until they’re roughly ground. Add the blanched herbs and enough olive oil to create a rich texture (about ⅓ cup). Season with a little salt, and pulse a few more times until everything is blended. Transfer the pesto to a small bowl. This is at its most vibrant when used right away, so I wouldn’t make it too much ahead.
Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Brush the zucchini rounds with olive oil on both sides, and lay them out on a sheet pan. Sprinkle them with salt and black pepper. Roast them until they’re golden and tender, about 15 minutes. Take them from the oven and sprinkle on a little za’atar (just a touch) and tiny bit of lemon juice.
Set out a large platter, and arrange the zucchini rounds and the mozzarella in a nice pattern. Season with a little salt and black pepper. Drizzle on some of the mint pesto, and garnish with mint leaves.
Penne with Zucchini, Anchovies, Mint, and Pecorino
(Serves 2 generously)
Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
4 or 5 tiny early summer zucchini, cut into not-too-thin coins
A sprinkle of sugar
1 small spring onion, chopped, including its tender green stem
2 small young garlic cloves, sliced
½ a fresh jalapeno, with its seeds, chopped
4 anchovy fillets, chopped
A splash of dry Marsala
½ pound penne
The grated zest from 1 small lemon
About 5 large sprigs of fresh spearmint, the leaves lightly chopped
A chunk of pecorino Toscano cheese
Set up a pot of pasta cooking water. Add salt, and get it boiling.
In the meantime, get out a big sauté pan, and set it over medium high heat. Drizzle in about 2 tablespoons of olive oil. When the oil is hot, add the zucchini and the sugar, and sauté, without moving the zucchini around too much, until it’s just starting to brown. Now add the scallion, garlic, anchovies, and jalapeno, and continue sautéing until the zucchini is just tender and the whole thing is fragrant. Add the Marsala, and let it bubble for a few seconds. Turn off the heat
Start cooking the penne. When it’s al dente, drain it, saving about ½ cup of the cooking water, and add it to the pan. Add the lemon zest, and sauté quickly over low heat to blend all the flavors.
Pour the pasta into a serving bowl. Add the mint, a drizzle of fresh olive oil, a little of the cooking water, and a few big gratings of the pecorino. Toss gently. Taste for salt (it might not need any, thanks to the anchovies). Serve hot or warm, bringing the rest of the cheese to the table.