MINT'S IMPERIOUS
Courtesy of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall kicks off a three-part series on favourite summer herbs - The Guardian, Saturday 23 May 2009
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/may/23/hugh-fearnley-whittingstall
but in case they change sites:
This week I'm going mint-al with a little celebration of all things minty, part one of a three-part series celebrating the herbs of summer. And mint is deservedly first on to the chopping block.
It's hardly an exclusive passion - it would be entirely possible to draw a minty map that spans the globe, from our own, beloved mint sauce to the kofte of Turkey and the dolmades of Greece, to the teas and tagines of Morocco, the yogurty, minty sauces and tabboulehs of the Middle East, and the raitas and chutneys of India; from the pungent salads and dipping sauces of Thailand to the mint juleps of the American south. Mint is truly the herb sans frontières.
It's fitting that a herb that's used so prolifically and grows so promiscuously - rampaging over scrubby ground, pushing through cracks in paving and colonising spaces set aside for more rarefied and reticent plants - has humble origins. Its name comes from Minthe, the nymph who so captivated Pluto that his jealous wife, Proserpina, transformed her into lowly, humble mint, destined for ever to creep along the ground. Well, Pluto's loss was our gain, and ever since we've been enraptured by her fresh, fragrant, saucy charms.
Mint is the common name of most plants of the genus Mentha, and there are hundreds of varieties. They hybridise easily, friskily, so it's sometimes confusing, but for the cook they can be roughly divided into two categories. Spearmint is the one we call "garden mint" or "common mint", and it's also the most usual "cooking" mint, the one we scatter over peas and potatoes. Peppermint is more fiery, peppery and spicy, but it has a soothing, cooling quality, too. It has more menthol notes, the chemical compound that stimulates cold sensors on your tongue, tickling and tricking your brain into feeling a soothing chill.
Commercially, the only kind of mint that's widely available is common mint, but it's easy and rather exciting to grow your own, more unusual varieties. Mint grows wonderfully in pots - in fact, given the herb's invasive nature, it's often best grown this way. If you do want to plant it in the ground, sink it into the earth in a large, bottomless pot, to limit its growth. Plant different varieties away from each other, too, because they can lose their distinctive flavours if planted close together. Chop back regularly to encourage fresh growth - younger leaves are more tender and tasty - and harvest before flowering when its oils are at their most potent.
Ginger mint is good in salads, with tomatoes and melon; spicy Moroccan mint is great in tea, and in yogurt and cucumber salads; chocolate mint, with its beautiful, purple-veined leaves, is delicious with, well, chocolate and other puds; pineapple mint adds its sweet freshness to fruit salads and drinks (it's the ultimate Pimm's mint); and Corsican mint really does creep along the ground, as Proserpina intended - you're not really going to cook with this variety, but if you can encourage it to grout its way along the cracks in garden paving, every time you walk along the beds you'll be rewarded with a menthol rush rising up from your steps.
Of course, we have long loved mint in jellies and sauces to accompany meat, most particularly lamb (much to the amusement of the French, who think it a rather barbarous habit), but it's also a perfect companion to spring and early summer veg. Asparagus, broad beans, peas and, later, aubergines and courgettes taste wonderful with a buttery kiss of shredded mint.
It's good, too, to try mint in place of other herbs, to ring the changes. Try a gremolata with mint in place of the parsley, or toss it over roasted or sautéed potatoes, or sprinkle it over lamb or pork. Later in summer, try usurping basil and sticking mint - lots of it - in your tomato salads.
And then, after all of that feasting, try a cup of fresh mint tea, the best herbal infusion there is. It's delicious on a hot day, lightly sweetened, cooled and poured over ice. As the kids would say, "Mint."
Cider apple brandy mojitos
My West Country twist on the minty mojito, using Somerset cider apple brandy in place of rum. Serves one.
10 fresh mint leaves, plus 1 nice sprig to garnish
About 2 tsp caster sugar, or to taste
1/2 lime, cut into wedges
40ml cider apple brandy
Ice
100ml sparkling water or soda water
Angostura bitters
With the handle of a wooden spoon, muddle together the mint, sugar and lime in a glass, bashing them well to ensure the leaves are bruised and combined with the sugar and lime. Add the brandy, then fill the glass with ice, top up with the sparkling water and add a splash of bitters. Stir, garnish with the mint sprig and serve immediately.
Mint and mascarpone ice-cream
Cooling and creamy, this is the perfect ice-cream for a hot afternoon. It also makes a delicious "after dinner mint" with a slosh of chocolate sauce or a dense, dark little chocolate biscuit on the side. Serves six to eight.
1 very big bunch fresh garden
mint, about 100-120g
200g caster sugar
4 egg yolks
200ml whole milk
200ml double cream
1 vanilla pod, split
200g mascarpone
Strip the mint leaves from the stalks and reserve the stems - snip them with scissors if they're very long. Put the stems into a pan with 350ml water and 100g of the sugar, and bash them a bit with the back of a wooden spoon. Over a low heat, stir gently to dissolve the sugar, then bring to a boil and simmer for eight to 10 minutes until syrupy - watch it for the last couple of minutes, to ensure it doesn't reduce too much. Allow the syrup to cool, then strain out the stalks.
Bring another pan of water to a boil, drop in the mint leaves, blanch for a few seconds, drain and refresh in iced water. Drain, pat dry, then blitz with the cooled syrup until you have a very fine, green paste.
Whisk together the egg yolks and remaining sugar until light and creamy in colour - this takes about five minutes in a mixer, 10 by hand.
In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, stir together the milk and cream, along with the split vanilla pod, and bring to just below boiling point, when a few bubbles appear at the edges of the pan. Scrape out the vanilla seeds and stir into the cream.
Slowly pour the warm cream over the egg yolks, stirring all the time, until well combined. Pour into a clean saucepan and cook gently over a low heat, stirring constantly, until thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon. Transfer to a bowl or plastic container, and cover the surface with baking parchment to prevent a skin from forming. Cool, then chill in the fridge.
Beat the mascarpone slightly, then whisk in the custard and mint paste until smooth. Churn in an ice-cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions, then put into a plastic tub and freeze; defrost for 10 minutes before serving.
Lamb kofte with yogurt sauce
In many southern European and Middle Eastern dishes, dried mint is used in preference to fresh. Here we've used dried mint in the kofte and added an extra zing of fresh mint in the sauce. It's our version of double mint. Serves six to eight.
For the kofte
1 small onion, grated
1 garlic clove, minced
1 rounded tbsp dried mint, crumbled
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 good pinch ground allspice
1 good pinch cinnamon
650g lamb, coarsely minced
4 tbsp finely chopped fresh parsley
90g fresh breadcrumbs
3 tbsp olive oil, plus 1 tbsp for shaping the kofte
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Some long, mild green chillies - we used Carliston peppers (optional)
For the sauce
100ml plain yogurt
100g soft goat's cheese
12 or so mint leaves, chopped
1 good pinch sea salt
Pitta bread, for serving
Skewers (if using wooden ones, soak them in water for 30 minutes)
Using your hands, mix together the kofte ingredients, seasoned generously with salt and pepper, until well combined. Leave to rest for at least 30 minutes, then fry off a small piece of the mixture to test - adjust the seasoning as necessary. When you're satisfied with the taste, wet your hands first with water and then with the remaining tablespoon of oil, and shape the kofte into thin sausages about 7cm long. Now thread the kofte on to the skewers, along with the chillies (if you're using them), pressing firmly on the minced lamb so it's firmly attached. Put the skewers on an oiled grill over the hot coals of a barbecue or on a rack under a preheated grill, and cook for about eight minutes, turning once halfway through.
While they're cooking, make the sauce by stirring together the yogurt and cheese until fairly smooth. Mix in the chopped mint and salt.
Serve the kofte hot, with warmed pitta bread and the sauce.
• The River Cottage Handbook No 5: Edible Seashore, by John Wright, is out now at £14.99 (Bloomsbury). To order a copy for the special offer price of £8.99, go to rivercottage.net
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