The roof garden is nearly gone. The basil was pestoed long ago, the tomatoes plucked and eaten, and the strawberries finally slowed down. Left, are the rosemary pots, the oregano and sage, and the mint.
I like coffee and tea, but I really only drink black tea and the very occasional blend specifically formulated for a sore throat. While visiting a middle-eastern cafe in Harvard Square, my group was seated at a small intimate table and given a beautiful pot of mint tea, which suited our stomachs well after the winter gorging that immediately proceeded our cafe visit. The tea was fresh, hot, leafy, minty, and delicious.
This weekend, I harvested 90% of our roof-garden mint before the cold got too far into it.
I like coffee and tea, but I really only drink black tea and the very occasional blend specifically formulated for a sore throat. While visiting a middle-eastern cafe in Harvard Square, my group was seated at a small intimate table and given a beautiful pot of mint tea, which suited our stomachs well after the winter gorging that immediately proceeded our cafe visit. The tea was fresh, hot, leafy, minty, and delicious.
This weekend, I harvested 90% of our roof-garden mint before the cold got too far into it.
Picked and de-leafed.
Dried in the oven (120f for 45 minutes).
Crushed and scooped into a teabag.
Boiled. Unlike black tea, you can boil mint tea instead of just steeping, and it's impossible to over-steep.
It turned out nicely, and I generally despise herbal tea.
No caffeine, so Jr. can sip one too after filling winter meals in the city.
It's not quite as good as bitters for settling the over-stuffed stomach, but it does help. The rest of the pot was cooled and poured into ice cube trays to make minty ice for liquor drinks later on for an autumn cocktail party. Hello, winter.
Happy Thanksgiving, all.
