The taste and the name of the rose

June is just the right time for the rose harvest. The fascinating smell of roses has captivated people throughout the ages and the aroma and taste of roses always has a special place in the kitchen. The name of the rose, as well as its taste, has found its place in literature and has been the subject of novels and poems. When June comes, it's time to take a journey into the magical world of the rose! Many poems refer to the short life of roses:

“Early one morning, the rose bloomed and blossomed like no other,

The rose bent and told all to the dawn breeze.

Look at this unfairness only lasting ten days.

The rose both bloomed and blossomed and then withered and faded!”

It is truly unfair for such a beauty to be so short lived. Though the fragrance of the rose is enchanting, as in these lines by Omar Khayyam, the life of the rose ends quickly.

“Look! what the blooming rose is
saying laughing - I bloom for a day
And once my silken petals wither
Into the garden dump they throw me away.”

Bloom for a day and gone the next day. Maybe that is why mankind has always tried to encapsulate the smell of roses, to extract the essence of the rose and make its scent eternal. In the past, there used to be alembics to extract rose water and oil in the Halvahane in Topkapı Palace, and rose petals were collected with the first light of the day during the rose season and sent to the alembics. The name of Gülhane park at the foot of Topkapı palace comes from the rose gardens created for this purpose.

In many cultures, the rose is considered the king and queen of flowers; in fact, in Persian, the word rose is used as an eponym for all flowers. In Iran, the rose appears not only in desserts, cookies, sorbets and ice creams, but also in māst-o-khiār, the refreshing yogurt and cucumber combination, sort of their version of “cacık,” a perfect accompaniment to meat and rice dishes. Rose also appears in chicken and meat recipes, along with elaborate rice pilafs that are also often adorned with rose petals. The Damascus rose (Rosa damascena) has been known in Anatolia since the Bronze Age. Today, rose cultivation is big in Türkiye, ranking first in the world in extracting rose oil for the perfume industry. Of course, roses are not only destined for luxurious perfumes and cosmetics, rose and rosewater used to have a special place in Ottoman cuisine. During the reign of Fatih the Conqueror, roses were grown for the palace kitchen in the Hasbahçeler, or royal gardens. Of course, the interest in roses is not exclusive to the palace. Fragrant roses grown in the gardens in Eyüp were sold at the rose bazaar in season, and enthusiasts would come from all over Istanbul.

Astonishing Recipes

The devotion to the taste of rose must be contagious. Its magical place in Middle Eastern and Ottoman culinary culture has apparently influenced the Western cuisines since the Middle Ages. In its journey from east to west, the rose appears in Central and Eastern European recipes. Hungarian Mihaly Szent-Benedeki, in his 1601 dated food treatise, describes a very interesting fried rose like a “lokma” on a stick. The whole rose is dipped in a runny batter prepared with rosewater and flour or starch, and then deep fried, and then served with honey drizzled over. Another intriguing recipe with an amusing name was recorded in England in 1557 — “Eggs in Moonshine!” The recipe reads delightfully in Old English. This 16th century Tudor recipe is from books published in 1545, 1550 and 1575 including The Proper Newe Booke of Cokerye by William How, as follows:

“To Make Egges in Mone Shine”

“Take a disshe of rose water and a dish full of sugar and set them vpon a chafyndisshe & let them boyle / than take the yelkes of eight or nyne egges new layde and put them thereto euery one from other / and so let them harden a litel / and so after this maner serue them foarth and cast a lytell Sinamon and Suger vpon them.”

If we decipher the Old English, equal amounts of rosewater and sugar are boiled, the egg yolks are slowly dropped into this boiling syrup, poached briefly, then taken out of the syrup, sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar. Just delightful to read.

The Name of the Rose

The name of the rose has inspired many writers. In the children's favorite book, The Chronicles of Narnia, the rose delight actually symbolizes the forbidden apple that caused Adam and Eve to be expelled from paradise. The distinguished Italian writer Umberto Eco named his book “Il Nome della Rosa / The Name of the Rose,” but later in an interview, the title was not chosen intentionally, however the novel ends referring to the name of the rose. The book is almost like a historical thriller set in the Middle Ages. It is forbidden to enter the labyrinthine library that contains countless mysteries. Those who do enter are found dead after a while, as all the mysteries are solved one by one, eventually a great disaster happens, a terrible fire breaks out, the library burns down and some secrets remain unknown forever. At the end of the book, there is a reference to the fact that everything beautiful that exists is doomed to disappear with a reference made to the rose. The rose itself is doomed to disappear, and only its name will remain. So, one lesson to be taken from that is; before the rose season is over, let’s try to find fragrant roses to capture the essence in a jar and savor it the rest of the year, either in drinks, cocktails, or sherbets or syrups, or to add in puddings and desserts, cakes and cookies or wherever you find appropriate. In the name of the mighty rose don’t let the rose wither and fade away, enjoy the smell and taste of the rose forever!

Recipe of the week:

Gül Mayası

The Turkish title translates as Rose Yeast, but the meaning is starter here, so you can start a batch of rose jam with this paste or use it wherever you wish to have a smell of rose.

4 packed cups rose petals

4 cups sugar

1 teaspoon crushed citric acid (sold as limon tuzu in Türkiye)

When measuring the rose petals, make sure you pack them so tightly that there is no air remaining in the cup. You may need up to half a kilogram of roses for this recipe. Rub the rose petals well with citric acid and sugar. They should squeak between your fingers and turn into a paste. If necessary, you can add a little lemon juice. Press firmly into sterilized small jars. Cover with a layer of sugar and press down again. Keep in a dark and cool place. The rose starter will bloom in your kitchen once you open the jar.