
Every morning, while cycling my son to school, I make sure to point out what’s happening to, on and around the trees, hedges and bushes along our route. I think it’s because I’m hyper-conscious that I, a child of the countryside, am bringing him up as a very urban one. Might also be because I’m getting old.
March, April and May are, of course, among the best months for this activity, as the scene changes on an almost daily basis. This year has been a really good one for blossom and flowers (all that sunshine + virtually no wind or rain…), and I was particularly cheered at the end of last week to note the first sprays of elderflower.
For some industrious types (looking at you,
& ), this means cordial and champagne. I’ve neither the space nor the inclination. Instead I prefer a scattering of flowers and pollen over some berries and yoghurt. Plus, perhaps less predictably, a few minutes standing over a deep-fryer, repeatedly dropping batter-dipped elderflowers into it.These pretty little flowers are notoriously delicate and precious. So it might seem odd that their appearance makes me want to heat vegetable oil to 170C and throw in those flowers.
But it does.
(The urge could, in part, be because if the elderflower is out, then so is the sun … and personally I prefer to fry outside, so this moment serves as a timely prompt to set up an induction hob and saucepan on the patio table and get cracking.)
Normally I cook up some sweet snacks / a dessert, frying those blooms until you can smell the pollen rising, and the batter stuck to them is puffed and just colouring. I’ll then drizzle elderflower-boosted runny honey all over, and dust with icing sugar.
While I enjoy beignets, doughnuts and co, lightly-battered elderflower has all of the pleasure of the crunch, but none of the regret of having overdone it. So as far as I’m concerned, this is the best kind of fritter — there’s a light crunch, a gently sweet, perfumed inner, and then, poof, it’s gone. Can be eaten just as it is, or next to good vanilla or creme fraiche-flavoured ice cream, maybe a lemon or raspberry sorbet.
This year, though, I was also minded to fry-up a slightly more savoury (but still floral) mix of elderflower, asparagus, spring onions, lemon and basil. I seasoned this with a mix of salt and a couple of spices, squeezed lemon over the top, and opened up a cold beer. To be brutally honest: it was superb. Have a watch of this to get a better picture.
So, below for paid subscribers:
some tips for elderflower picking (for consumption);
a recipe for tempura elderflowers, with elderflower honey; and
a recipe (or a loose and adaptable formula) for a kind of early summer fritto misto — which, frankly, is the only way you should be eating your asparagus, elderflower and co this weekend.
Join us! Support Rocket & Squash, while also ensuring you have access to all words and recipes as they are published, plus the ever growing Archive.