The Mexican Food Flower

I LOVE Mexican food. It is my all-time favorite type of cuisine. I suffered unbearably in Okinawa where there was no decent Mexican food to be found. I’ve been on a binge ever since returning to the U.S. Mike and I have tried nearly every Mexican restaurant within a reasonable radius. I cannot get enough enchiladas, chile rellenos, and, of course, chips and salsa. While I would happily consume Mexican food at every meal, the smell of it in my garden turns my stomach.

I am not referring to the scent of crushed cilantro leaves or bruised chiles, but mignonette, Reseda odorata. I started Josephine Bonaparte’s favorite flower from seed for the promise of an exquisite scent much in vogue during the Victorian era. The blossoms and their famed fragrance make numerous appearances in romantic literature – tucked into bosoms, love letters, and bedclothes. The scent has been described as a deliciously sweet raspberry, but to my nose, it smells of cumin and lard.

From others’ descriptions, I knew the plant would be weedy and the flowers inconspicuous. I tucked my mignonette between showier flowers so that only its heavenly scent would advertise its presence. Thankfully, the smell is faint, so I hardly notice the plant at all. It looks like a weed and smells like kitchen leftovers. Yum.

It may not be mignonette’s fault. Perhaps the genes that make me swoon over the scent of lilies and even appreciate the muskiness of cleome also cause me to gag over mignonette’s odor. I’m curious to know, how do you find mignonette’s fragrance?