We have spend a glorious week rearranging various obstacles of the mind by allowing a fresh sea breeze in, working its wonders naturally and unimpeachable, with a house on one of the now deserted beaches of the spectacular Île de Ré and culminating cooperative weather scattering their polishing touches, making me now want to go back instantly but not necessarily compulsory, more of a light longing to detain its virtuousness, knowing the hardships undoubtedly to come.
Les Pierres, known through and through, offers a very practical approach to such feelings of hankering by literally squeezing out a renewed abundance of flowers, memorializing bygone summer on this ambient afterparty that seems to have mastery over abilities of perpetuity.
Its magnificent and imposing display of garden nasturtium, desperately squealing to be remembered for dressing up almost all our sunny salads, portrays more than just a memory as it focusses on usability over outer beauty, an unbeatable win-win in my and apparently also in known taxonomist Carl Linnaeus’ playbook, as he gave the plant its name, Tropaeolum meaning “little trophy” and Majus “larger”.
This little yet large trésor does indeed deserves to be credited for having health benefits that transcend its splendor, making it today’s perfect candidate to be picked, dried and thus preserved for winter, to boost the immune system and help to prevent coughs, cold and influenza, acting as a natural expectorant.
It does all that and much more, transformed into a rather tasty antioxidant packed tea, or a colorful flavor enhancer in savory sauces, just as well a culinary success, but it’s the light longing it invokes and detains that rewarms my heart.
