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by diane brownWhen I was single, I used lavender as a litmus test. You see, I once made a dish with herbs de Provence, the classic French herb blend of rosemary, parsley, basil, sweet marjoram, thyme, and most importantly, lavender, for a potential paramour. Ready for the pounce at the end of the humble feast I’d prepared, I asked the fatal question. “How did you like the chicken?” I hopefully queried. “Strange,” he said, “ it reminded me of soap.” |
Suddenly my feelings for him ran cold. Lavender, in my romance-infused, Vaseline-lens-cap-smeared vision, is the ultimate turn on. It’s a Merchant-Ivory film, redolent of Elizabethan gardens and frolicking maidens. It amuses all of the senses with its dreamy perfume, fuzzy purple flowers perfect for tickling and heady floral taste. In my opinion, a man who only thought of bathing products when faced with the allure of lavender was oppressively unimaginative.
History has it that in order to keep Napoleon’s interest, Josephine would have him drink a concoction made from lavender and chocolate every night. This became his favorite drink, and no wonder, with the double dose of aphrodisiac magic involved. Whip up your own dream inducing evening with this menu for two:
Broiled Chicken Breasts with Fresh Rosemary, Lavender and Lemon Zest
