Food cravings were something that happened to other people, like bounced cheques, bad grades, burnt puddings, and mismatched socks. It would never happen to me, or so I was convinced. Such was my confidence in the yearnings of my tongue that when I packed for my first stay in Europe, I made spatial concessions for the husband: Dried leaves, dried lentil dumplings, dried chillies and such things were to be mementos for the tongue in an unfamiliar land, I reasoned. Comfort food, I was certain, ought to come without preservatives, be they chemicals, sunlight or memory.
After the initial enthusiasm for new kinds of vegetables and melons in supermarkets and weekly farmers’ markets had thinned, I began to feel something missing in my diet. But what? The answer came in a morning dream, the Bengali’s version of the daily oracle. “I miss flowers,” I told my mother on a long distance call. She, unable to make sense of the abruptness of my desires, replied sadly, “Bengali men are like that—they can’t show love by gifting flowers.” It was not the husband’s fault but hers, I clarified. Years of eating flowers had made pumpkin flowers more valuable to me than orchids and gladioli. For all the glories of the flower being a muse, Wordsworth had, to my knowledge, never eaten daffodils!
It’s difficult to say it—and there is indeed a moral shock attached to cannibalism in that declaration—but it’s true: I love eating flowers. In many Hindi candyfloss films, I’ve watched with dismay and curiosity how the foolish—or fooled—lover eats petals of yellow calendulas and daisies. Surely flowers were not a fool’s food? But in a metaphoric world where Bengalis asked idiots whether they had eaten grass, making cows of men in adages, was it possible that flowers, with their beauty and fragrance and unmistakable individual tastes, could be food only for the stupid? “No Ma, they don’t eat flowers here,” I reported to my mother from Europe, dismissing all their cuisines in one ruthless chop. (I was wrong, of course. But that’s another story.)
There are no flowers in winter. Spring is for gardeners, not farmers. From where I had come, flowers grow without will or desire. Tied to young bamboo canes with thin coconut fibre ropes which scratch their tender green bodies, young plants stand alert, their tendrils tied to overhead crutches, like the Bengali educationist Vidyasagar’s fabled studying under the lamp-post. No flowers are left unplucked; how fruits are born is a miracle, probably a result of a hidden operation of the underworld of leaves and scheming stems.
(This story appears in the 08 June, 2012 issue of Forbes India. To visit our Archives, click here.)
Sumana, loved reading this! beautifully written!
on Dec 23, 2013Yes,a lovely essay indeed.But this is contagious and spreads fast.Readers surely might have developed an urge to go active and experience every bit...I am no exception.After such a delight it becomes contemplative and a probability arises... Herbivorous or Carnivorous to Florivorous,but whatever the effect is..thanks for bringing such a magic out.Was that what you use the wand for???
on Jun 9, 2012A sheer delight of an essay. Hopefully you will write about the extraordinariness of ordinary things in the future too. What\'s your twitter handle?
on Jun 8, 2012After falling out of favor for many years, cooking and garnishing with flowers is back in vogue once again. Flower cookery has been traced back to Roman times, and to the Chinese, Middle Eastern, and Indian cultures. Edible flowers were especially popularin the Victorian era during Queen Victoria\'s reign.Flowers have been eaten all over the world since antiquity. They have been incorporated into traditional foods of numerous cultures. The Chinese have been using daylilies, lotus, and chrysanthemums in their cuisine for centuries. Romans used mallow, rose and violets, Italian and Hispanic cultures used stuffed squash blossoms, not forgetting the Asians who till today use rose petals liberally. During the Elizabethan era primroses were stewed and fondant was made of gillyflower. Queen Bess loved Lavender conserve. American colonists made violet vinegar, Oswego tea with bergamot flowers, and mutton broth with marigolds. Odysseus encountered the lotus-eating Sybarites on his way home from Troy. Charlemagne ordered his wine to be flavored with carnations. Chartreuse, a classic green liqueur developed in France in the seventeenth century, uses carnation petals as one of its secret ingredients. Dandelions and numerous other flowers were referred to in the Old Testament of the Bible. So eating flowers is nothing new!!! Today, many restaurant chefs and innovative home cooks garnish their entrees with flower blossoms for a touch of elegance. The secret to success when using edible flowers is to keep the dish simple, do not add to many other flavors that will over power the delicate taste of the flower. Today this nearly lost art is enjoying a revival. Eat flowers only when you are positive they are edible. If uncertain, consult a good reference book on edible flowers prior to consumption. If pesticides are necessary, use only those products labeled for use on edible crops. No flowers is safe to eat unless it was grown organically. Wash all flowers thoroughly before you eat them. Introduce flowers into your diet in small quantities one species at a time. Too much of a good thing may cause problems for your digestive system. Remove pistils and stamens from flowers before eating. Separate the flower petals from the rest of the flower just prior to use to keep wilting to a minimum. Eat only the flower petals for most flowers except pansies violas, and Johnny-jump-ups (in which they add flavor). If you have allergies, introduce edible flowers gradually, as they may aggravate some allergies.
on Jun 8, 2012Such a lovely essay. Rare to find such beautiful writing and that too on such a subject.
on Jun 7, 2012