Linden blossom, marinated aubergines, and other summer smugness

In which I fetishise lime tree blossom, and do a lazier thing with aubergines than the thing I had planned.

The lime (linden) tree blossom is drying in my office, on the homemade herb rack that hangs from the ceiling. It is the most luxurious air freshener imaginable. And later, when dried, it’ll make a sweet, floral tea.

Lime trees are everywhere in rural Bulgaria, where they’re known as липа (‘lipa’). Their flowers are the defining smell of June. (Which makes a nice change from eau de sheep, as the herd makes its daily commute through the village to graze on nearby fields.)

Around 4pm each day, just as the heat begins to really hang over the garden like a blanket, the scent wafts in from the lime tree across the road. It builds and builds over the course of a week until we can’t resist any longer. Rob scrambles onto the large municipal bin that (romantically) lives under the tree, and picks a basket (or more realistically, because he’s not the slightest bit Instagram-minded, a carrier bag) of blossom. Then we dry it.

And so should you, if you’re lucky enough to have lime trees nearby.

Some tips:

• The UK is probably a few weeks behind, so wait until you can smell the flowers before you pick. They smell headily, almost over-the-top sweet and floral.

• You want the pale green bract that’s attached to the flower, as well as the flower itself. Basically, pick what you see in the picture above. You dry and use it whole.

• Don’t over-pick. Take what you need and leave plenty for others.

• Spread the blossom out in a single layer and leave it to dry. You could do this outside if you’re able to cover it with some sort of mesh to keep the bugs off. I prefer to dry it indoors, on my DIY herb rack.

• At our current temperatures (best described as ‘sweaty, ankle-thickening’), it all dried within three days. But I’ll probably leave it a few more days, just to be sure.

Then what do you do with them?

Do as the Bulgarians do and save the dried blossom in a jar for lipa tea. When you want to brew, just grab a handful of the blossom and steep it in hot water for a few minutes (in a cafetiere or teapot designed for loose tea). I also plan to use cold lipa tea for making water kefir. (Note to self: I wonder if I can also brew kombucha with it?)

If you ask me, a jar of dried blossom makes one of the nicest homemade gifts. My mother-in-law loves lipa tea. (Don’t worry, Sharon, we’ve got you covered.)

One more recommendation: Olia Hercules has a recipe for lime tree blossom syrup in her book, Home Food – she then macerates strawberries in the syrup. It sounds delightful, but often our homegrown strawberry season and the lime tree blossom season miss each other by a couple of weeks. Oh the cruelty.

What to eat this week: barbecued, marinated aubergines

I’ve long been obsessed with a Moro recipe called ‘aubergines with garlic, mint and chilli’ (page 42 of the book) – in which chunky aubergine discs are deep fried and marinated in red wine vinegar, mint, fried garlic and ginger. I was really in the mood for it last weekend. But, as a human smell sponge, I can rarely muster the enthusiasm for deep frying. Especially when it’s +30C outside.

So we made this lazier version as a barbecue side dish. In the end, it didn’t resemble the Moro dish at all – such is the way of cooking off-piste – but it’s a nice way to show a couple of aubergines a good time. If you’re barbecuing and have aubergines handy, I recommend it.

In terms of the Barbecue Order of Service, you’ll want to cook these aubergines first, so they can quickly marinate while you cook everything else.

Serves 2–4 as a side, depending on how greedy you are

• 2 aubergines

• 5–6 tbsp olive oil, plus extra for basting

• 4 tbsp red wine vinegar

• 2 garlic cloves, smooshed

• 1 chilli, finely chopped

• A generous handful of chopped fresh herbs (I used dill and mint)

• Salt and pepper

Slice the aubergines into 1cm discs. Lay them on a board or tray, sprinkle both sides with a little salt and set aside for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, make the marinade. In a large (heatproof*) bowl, combine the oil, vinegar, garlic, chilli, herbs, a sprinkle of salt and a good grinding of black pepper. (*You’ll be putting hot aubergine slices in it later.)

Wipe and gently pat the aubergine slices with a wad of kitchen paper to remove the excess moisture and salt.

Cook the aubergine slices on the barbecue, brushing with a little oil and turning occasionally, until they’re soft and on the verge of collapse. I *think* this took about 15–20 minutes, but there were mojitos involved and time is a flat circle and all that…

Put the cooked aubergines into the marinade and toss gently to combine. Set them aside while you cook whatever else you’re barbecuing, then serve.

Notes

• The aubergines will be perfectly tasty after 15 minutes, but they get even better over time. We took the leftovers on a picnic the next day and they were fantastic in a flatbread with herby mayo.

• Not barbecuing? You could cook the aubergine slices in a pan, basting and turning as above, but you won’t get the smoky flavour. Also, you’d need to work in batches, which is a bit of a ballache. Better to get outside, fire up the barbie, live a little.

• You’ll have leftover marinade after eating all the aubergine. Use it over the next couple of days in salad dressings, or as a dip for bread.

• Side question: who wants a post on meat-free barbecue ideas? Anyone? Comment and let me know.

Smug picnic spot on the village river