I can distinctly remember the point when I stopped liking lemon thyme. We were working at Clio and there was a fair amount of lemon thyme which needed to be used up. I was given the task of finding a use. I decided an herb infused oil would capture the essence of the floral and grassy thyme. What I did not know was that the thyme stems, like those of many firm stemmed herbs, taste like old wood. My oil tasted as though I had aged lemon pledge in old pine barrels. I was disgusted, both with myself and with the flavor I now associated with lemon thyme.
I steered away from lemon thyme for roughly ten years. Sure, it has crossed my path occasionally, although not
without an upturned nose of disgust from me. Yet, when I was sent on the mission to buy plants to create a small herb garden for us to use at home I became mesmerized by the many varieties in the farmer's market, particularly the lemon thyme. It had a variegated appearance, green and yellow balancing in a visual harmony, portraying the aroma and flavor tucked within each individual leaf. I was compelled to purchase one for our garden. When I planted our herbs in their new home I smiled wryly at the lemon thyme, not really knowing why I bought it.
Still, the lemon thyme has a particular voice which finally began speaking to me again. While it settled itself into its new home I casually avoided it, not knowing or remembering how to use it. I still had the awful memory of lemon thyme oil in my head. When we started working on a refreshing melon and pineapple terrine paired with sliced and zested mojama, Aki dumped a bunch of freshly cut herbs on my cutting board. In an instant the fog dissipated and I saw an opportunity. Perhaps it was the similar aesthetic, perhaps the flavor profile, perhaps it was just the right time. The lemon thyme finished the dish beautifully and rejoined our pantry with a graceful flourish.
I steered away from lemon thyme for roughly ten years. Sure, it has crossed my path occasionally, although not
Still, the lemon thyme has a particular voice which finally began speaking to me again. While it settled itself into its new home I casually avoided it, not knowing or remembering how to use it. I still had the awful memory of lemon thyme oil in my head. When we started working on a refreshing melon and pineapple terrine paired with sliced and zested mojama, Aki dumped a bunch of freshly cut herbs on my cutting board. In an instant the fog dissipated and I saw an opportunity. Perhaps it was the similar aesthetic, perhaps the flavor profile, perhaps it was just the right time. The lemon thyme finished the dish beautifully and rejoined our pantry with a graceful flourish.
