Pass the Peonies, Please

October 25, 2023

At a ceremony in downtown Atlanta last night, local chefs gathered for a milestone occasion during which Michelin presented its coveted one-, two- and three-star distinctions to area restaurants for Atlanta’s inaugural Michelin guide, globally renowned as the gold standard for identifying restaurants that deliver extraordinary culinary excellence.

Receiving a rare Michelin three-star distinction was The Psychedelic Rose, a restaurant owned by Chef Justin Wallace, critically acclaimed for his dishes specializing in edible florals. When asked about the inspiration for his culinary delights, the chef looked skyward and said, “I owe it all to my Granny.”

xxx

July, 1993

Granny cracked the eggs into a bowl with one hand and whipped them up into a froth with the other. “Oh, Justin, can you grab the flour out of the pantry? I almost forgot the most important ingredient!”

“Sure, Granny!”

Justin loved baking with his grandma. She was able to create the most incredible desserts without even using a recipe. A sprinkle of this, a dash of that, and voila! When he visited, she liked to try out new creations and he was rarely disappointed. Once, she made him caramel popcorn cookies, and another time a gummy worm parfait. But his all-time favorite was the potato chip cupcakes. Sometimes, she let him help with the recipe, deciding if they should use walnuts or almonds, white or brown sugar, or some such decision. He loved being a part of it.

He opened the pantry door and scanned the shelves for the flour. Granny usually kept the baking ingredients on the lower shelves where Justin could reach. He came upon the telltale white sack and reached for it, but something was off. He read the label: Flower. No, that’s not right, he thought. At eight years old, he knew that flower was different from flour, even though they sounded the same. He scrunched his face and searched the pantry again, standing on his tippy toes to see the higher shelves. No flour.

“Granny, I don’t see any flour,” he called out. “Only something that says f-l-o-w-e-r, like from the garden.”

“That’s the one, bring me that, dear.”

Justin shrugged and pulled out the sack of flower. Maybe it was one of those off-brands Granny would sometimes buy, like Krispy Krunch cereal that he knew was spelled wrong.

He placed the sack on the counter and Granny asked him to measure out two cups. Scooping it from the bag, it seemed just like any other flour they’d ever used. He dumped it into the big bowl that contained the other ingredients his granny had already measured out. “What are we making today, Granny?”

“This one is going to be a surprise,” she answered with a wink.

Justin usually loved surprises, but he was a bit deflated. Part of the fun of baking was imagining the tastes of the treats they were creating. While in the pantry, he hadn’t seen everything Granny had put in the bowl, and he didn’t see any of his favorite snacks on the counter that might lend a clue as to what they were baking.

Granny mixed the batter, poured it into a large sheet pan and slipped it into the oven. She set the timer for 5 minutes, which seemed odd to Justin. Usually, their creations baked for at least a half hour or more. Good, he thought. Less time to wonder what it will be.

As they cleaned up the kitchen, the most amazing fragrances filled the room, smells that reminded Justin of his granny’s garden that she loved to tend as much as she loved baking. By the time the dishes were cleaned, the oven timer went off.

Granny put on her oven mitts and pulled out the pan, and Justin gasped at what he saw. Sprouted in the pan were most beautiful flowers in every color – lavender, lilac, roses, peonies, petunias, geraniums, dahlia; flowers his granny had taught him from her garden. But these were more vivid in color, sweeter in fragrance than anything he’d ever known.

“Do you like it?” Granny asked.

“Yes, but…” Justin was speechless. “Can we eat that?”

“Absolutely! You just pluck what you like,” she said, grabbing a geranium, “and pop it in your mouth!” She held the pan out to Justin as she chewed on her flower.

Hesitantly, he reached for a multi-colored rose, then changed his mind and picked a bright orange marigold and warily nibbled the edge. A grin swept across his face, and he popped the whole thing in his mouth. It was at once sweet and tangy with a texture that made his tongue tingle. He then chose a lilac, a begonia, a rose-- each one delighting his senses more than the last.

Justin and Granny gorged on the treats, and with each they plucked, another sprouted in its place. “Granny, this is even better than the potato chip cupcakes!” Justin exclaimed with incredulity.

When they’d had enough, Granny rubbed her belly and said, “Whew. I think maybe I overdid it. I might need to sit down for a little while.” Justin, too, was full and feeling sleepy. Granny told him to take a nap in the bed she kept for him in the spare room. As he slept, the delectable treat penetrated his dreams, the vibrant colors,

fragrant bouquet, and outrageous flavors lingering in his senses.

He awoke to his mother gently touching his shoulder. “Justin, honey, wake up.”

He opened his eyes and saw that he was in his own room at his house, not at Granny’s. He rubbed his eyes, confused, sure he’d only been asleep a few minutes. He didn’t remember his mother picking him up or taking him home. “Where’s Granny?” he asked.

“Honey, that’s why I’m waking you up. I have some terrible news…about Granny.”

Justin knew what that meant. It was what his mother had said when his grandpa died. “NO! She’s not dead! We were just baking; we made the most amazing treat!” He could still smell it.

“You must have been dreaming, sweetheart. I’m so sorry!”

“No, it wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t be!” he protested. “The tastes, the smells, it was real, it was magical!”

His mother stroked his hair. “Sometimes dreams can feel very real.” She hugged Justin tight, and over her shoulder he spotted on his dresser a vase full of flowers.

“Where did those come from?” he asked.

His mother turned and saw the flowers, and her face sank. “Granny brought those over for you last night, after you were already in bed. They’re from her garden. She’d been working all day in the heat, planting and pruning. I think she must have overdone it. It wasn’t long after she got home that she—"

xxx

A few days later, Justin attended the memorial service to honor his grandmother. As the crowd was clearing out, he walked to the front of the room where Granny’s picture was surrounded by many of the beautiful flowers from her own garden. The tears flowed as he tried to process a world without her. He couldn’t help staring at the flowers, recalling that last special treat they shared, when he heard his Granny’s voice - “Go ahead!”

Without hesitation, he plucked a purple pansy and popped it in his mouth.