As I mentioned in an earlier post, my lack of self-restraint in the face of two quid seedlings at the grocery store I frequent has lead me to planting and growing a bunch of funky mints whose existence in my wee balcony garden I now must justify with more than just “put it in a tea!”
Ginger mint is one such mint. I didn’t even taste it before I bought it, but when I did taste it, my reaction was “oh! that’s quite lovely!”
And that has been the reaction of everyone else I’ve made taste it.
It didn’t put me any further ahead with regard to wtf to do with the damned stuff…beyond putting it in a tea.
As luck would have it, shortly after the ginger mint made an appearance in my garden, I was off on a covert Virginia creeper procurement mission with my friend Bryan who was looking for some of that dastardly and delightful weed to grow over a gazebo in his yard. I may have taken him a bit off the beaten path and out to the BFF’s place on the promise of not only Virginia creeper (of which she has muchly), but also other goodies, like horseradish and asparagus and rhubarb.
It was at Meg’s kitchen table after pilfering her yard and tucking into her second-to-last beer that inspiration struck for a rhubarb and ginger mint pico.
I’m as much of a fan of raw rhubarb dipped in sugar as the next kid, but when I work with rhubarb, I almost always start with some kind of maceration-type-thing. It helps a lot in evening out the sourness and texture of rhubarb so it’s not such an assault to the taste buds and mashers. As such, plan to make this pico a good 24 hours in advance to let science work its magic. Nothing, not even the mint, suffers for it. Trust me, I’m a fatty.
What you need:
- 2 cups rhubarb, washed and chopped into 1/4″ lengths
- 1 large leek (white and green bits) or red or vidalia onion, finely chopped
- 1/2 cup of ginger mint, cleaned and finely chopped
- 2 tbsp rye whiskey or orange juice
- 1 tbsp demerara sugar
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 1 tsp white pepper
- Pinch of salt
What you do:
- Toss everything together in a bowl.
I initially served this in wraps comprising sautéed beef, onions and peppers, leafy greens and brie cheese, like so:
They were DIVINE.
The mister’s reaction upon first bite was “holy flavour!”
Yes. THAT kind of good.
It’s also amazing as a salad topper and, at some point, I should like to work it into a tuna salad for sandwiches or perhaps stuffed pepper or gooey melts on croissants with oodles of provolone cheese.
Not gonna lie; I ate a bunch of it just off a spoon.