Last spring one of my best recipes was born- Spring Herb Moussaka. It’s an unraveling from everywhere all at once, coincidentally right around the time the movie of the same name came out. This year, as part of my Spring 2024 Herbal Salts: Unbridled Spirit & Verve Collection, I offer a refined herbal tulip salt born from that experience.

Both recipes stand as a testament to my nomadic journey, where I feel free from the confines of any one place, allowing me to connect with all, everywhere, simultaneously. It’s within this boundless exploration that I discover my most genuine self, where I feel most peace and from where most of my recipe ideas unravel.

My brain always seems to remind me that my roots are not tied to my location in the same way they are for many others. Where I was born, where I live or have lived doesn’t matter to me when it comes to cooking or really anything. I likely appear nihilistic with my lack of loyalty to place. The truth is: feeling too tethered to a homebase can feel like confinement to me. And that feeling of confinement generally leads to my creative stagnation, which leads to a general unhappiness. I feel most alive and creative when I give myself the freedom to feel everything everywhere all at once. It appears that spring is the season that always beckons me to sprout forth and examine my place and just as I tend to roam, so do my recipes.

People often don’t understand my need to move around. I think of last year’s hit movie as an analogy for my moment. To me everything and everywhere are equally meaningful and intertwined together. In terms of my culinary creations, I am kind of like the movie character Evelyn Quan Wang. I’m shifting through the multiverses (of food and food culture here on earth), always looking for varying perspectives and finding meaning through the process, connecting with different versions of myself as they collide into others in this world, near and far. All these perspectives get lodged in me, and my creative mind morphs worlds until it lands on one final idea that encompasses several.

This is exactly how my spring moussaka recipe came to life last year, evolving over the course of several weeks. Technically, the moussaka didn’t materialize until the very end the unraveling or idea wandering process. Like the movie, my process of recipe creation involves jumping from one memory to another all at once, which can be a little confusing. Let’s use this recipe to try and illustrate my process.

It all started with my obsession with the bright fuchsia red bud blossoms that blanket my little Missouri landscape in spring- these fuchsia flowers marks where the gestation began. The original image that kept popping into my head was a red bud herb salt. All of my herbal salts have a way of homing in on the specificities of the moment, so it rapidly morphed into a spring flower theme as the abundance of wild and garden flowers exploded in my early garden and around my land.

The tulips popped up next and conjured their way into the idea with the various memories that that brought with them. I had purchased some flower bulbs a few winters ago on a total whim thinking they would be the only inedible thing in my garden giving a little beauty at the onset the season before everything else would spring forth. Little did I know tulips are edible (I randomly googled it when the first bright bloom burst through) and learned, in the most delighted way, most have a fantastic savory flavor. My tulip varieties have a cucumber and slightly sweet onion-like flavor, which I immediately thought would pair beautifully with the red buds vegetal, sweet pea flavor.

Many flavor memories began to hit me from all angles with the sweet onion scent. The tulips reminded me of a very pleasant warm spring day I once spent in Amsterdam when the tulips were blooming and I stopped at little canal café, sat at a table on the edge of the canal in the warmth of the sun, and ate some asparagus bitterballen that were served with a bechamel sauce and garnished with flower petals. I had not thought of this memory ever since experiencing it, so I knew my brain must have had a good reason.

The flower theme seemed potent with just those two and then came the Oxeye Daisies which popped up out of nowhere in major abundance all over my property. I had bought a plant identifier app so I could tell my mint varieties apart (I have so many, and they have spread into each other). I flashed it at the daisies on a whim and learned they too are edible and quite delicious. They have a snappy peppery flavor, and the leaves, blooms, and stems are all edible. The leaves taste a bit like peppered, lemony spinach and the blooms are lightly sweet and mild. They have a pleasant bitterness to them, as well.

I had dried the tulip petals on a tray in my kitchen just by letting them sit out for several days because they had finished blooming, and I had a finite amount. I couldn’t get myself to make the salt just yet so this was a way to preserve the idea. I tossed the last of the red buds in the freezer and the Oxeyes were still abundant outside, my instincts seemed to know more than I did. My rare bout of procrastination paid off because the next thing to bloom were the peonies, which are one of my favorites cut flowers. Once again, I checked to see if they were edible and, sure enough, they are. The Chinese have been using them for a few thousand years medicinally and they are known as the women’s tonic, helping to regulate hormones. All the varietals are edible and, depending on which varietal, the stems, roots, leaves, and blooms even taste pleasant. The herbaceous plant variety, which are the ones most of us can access to, have a very pleasant, sweet, floral, and lightly fruity flavor. The peonies flooded memories from my Oregon days as I had loads in my yard there, a Swiss chard white lasagna recipe I created when I was young there, kept popping in my head too.

Spring flower power was abundant, and my herb salt came to be in a whirlwind few weeks based on these four flowers simply popping up in front of me. An abundance of potent little shoots in a variety of mints, hyssops, my specialty oreganos and a few specialty herbs like citrus southernwood and germander complement the blooms. Of course, I added a speckling of parsley and chives that popped up, as well.

So how did I get from the flower herb salt to moussaka? It is just me being everywhere all at once, here now and then and there. In my subconscious was the bitterballen and the white chard lasagna both with the béchamel sauce, for sure. And it just so happened that on the day I was to make the salt, I popped into my local organic store and was surprised to see some teenager sized artichokes. I say teenager because they were neither small nor large. It’s rare to see this size and they were just small enough that I knew I could use them without having to cut the fuzzy choke part out; when they are young, the choke is easily edible. I hadn’t a clue what I was going to do with these artichokes but, considering they have been my favorite vegetable since childhood and they remind me more than anything of spring, I bought some.

I finally made the spring herbal salt, Spring Flowers Herbal Salt, and it was everything I hoped it would be: floral, oniony, vibrant, peppery and spring-like. It had a little “snap” like early spring does and at that point I maybe thought I’d sprinkle the salt on them and that would be it. I shifted worlds and got ultra-busy in my mango world and almost two weeks went by, and I hadn’t really used the herb salt or cooked up the artichokes. It was eating at me. I felt prematurely guilty for wasting the artichokes.

And then everything morphed into the final trajectory that is this spring moussaka. One night while reading the NY Times, as I do each night, I stumbled into their Spinach Artichoke Lasagna, which immediately brought me back a few years on the island of Kefalonia, eating one of the most pleasant spring dishes: Artichoke Moussaka. I don’t enjoy regular moussaka, but the artichoke version without eggplant, meat, or tomatoes felt like it was made for me… vibrant and fresh and filled with artichokes and lathered in a silky bechamel sauce!

The connection of everything everywhere all at once was clear and so was the recipe idea for my Spring Artichoke Moussaka using my Spring Flowers Herbal Salt and the Missouri Red Bud blossoms. When I finally land on my final recipe idea, after one of these “multiverse” food memories morph and the strongest sense of intuition emerges, there is rarely a change needed once I get started. It must like a spring garden, simply come into life as if it was always meant to be.

Clearly the artichokes had a home in this idea and since most the leaves had to come off, the fact that it was older didn’t ruin any flavor or texture; artichokes are forgiving, which is another reason to love them. The idea of making it meatless appealed to my spring senses and so did the idea of using sliced asparagus sautéed with onions and herbs to make a meat textured layer, giving the moussaka a more traditional texture and morphing me back to my spring Brooklyn days when I invented my asparagus tacos, slicing asparagus thin to resemble the crumbly nature and texture of ground beef. Young tender spring potatoes as the base layer (also authentic to moussaka) seemed obvious. The bitterballen mentioned earlier had mint in them so the bechamel ended up tasting minty, so I made a literal minty version of béchamel sauce, adding red buds for the flower tie-in and more vegetal tones. A final crunchy topping of breadcrumbs, mint, red bud flowers and parmesan, just made the thing more comforting despite the lightness of the dish. The result was one of my more impressive dishes and the experience of the idea unraveling felt like actual travel.

Artichoke & Asparagus Moussaka with Minted Béchamel and Missouri Red Bud Parmesan Topping

This spring version of moussaka combines a wonderful blend of traditional and modern elements, capturing the essence and flavors of spring while still providing a comfort but in lighter form. Moussaka typically requires several steps; it is important to note that it does not necessarily mean it’s difficult or requires advanced kitchen skills. Personally, I find recipes with multiple steps to be meditative, as they allow me to engage in various simple tasks with a blank mind. During my current stress levels, this spring moussaka served as a way for my mind to slow down. The result is truly worth the time and effort: the dish features earthy artichokes and potatoes, layered with textured spring asparagus and spring onions, all smothered in a minty béchamel sauce. Feel free to omit the red buds altogether, as they are not available to most. I recommend one of my spring flower herb salts but a mixture of fresh mint and Maldon salt would be equally lovely.

Choose artichokes that are bright green with little to no browning that have tight leaves. Alternatively, you can use high quality canned or jarred artichokes that are firmer.

Ingredients

For the potato layer:
10 young (small) spring potatoes
1 teaspoon salt, plus ¼ teaspoon
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon salt, plus ¼ teaspoon
1 teaspoon chopped oregano leaves

For the artichoke layer:
10 jarred or canned of fresh cooked & prepared artichokes sliced ½ inch thick
1 tablespoon lemon juice
¼ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons chopped mint leaves

For the asparagus onion layer:
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons salted butter
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 spring onion, chopped finely
1 ½ cups finely sliced asparagus (about 1 bunch)
1 cup baby spinach leaves
1 tablespoon finely chopped mint
1 teaspoon finely chopped oregano
½ teaspoon salt

For the béchamel sauce:
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
3 tablespoons salted butter
1 tablespoon finely chopped mint leaves
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley leaves
1 teaspoon finely chopped thyme leaves
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon freshy cracked white pepper
3 cups whole milk, warm
2 egg yolks beaten

For the crunchy mint topping:
½ cup finely grated parmesan cheese
½ cup panko breadcrumbs
2 tablespoons finely chopped mint leaves
1 teaspoon finely chopped oregano leaves
1 tablespoon red bud flowers (optional)
½ teaspoon Flowery Onion Tulip Salt
3-4 tablespoons butter

Directions

Most importantly, ensure that each layer is pre-prepped and ready for assembly.

For the potato layer:
Place small whole potatoes in a single layer on the bottom of a medium saucepan. Cover the potatoes with water and add 1 teaspoon of salt. Bring the potatoes to a boil and cook until tender (about 10-15 minutes). Strain the potatoes and place them in a mixing bowl. Add the remaining ingredients, including the ¼ teaspoon of remaining salt, and gently toss until the potatoes are coated. Refrigerate for at least an hour. Once the potatoes are cold and just before assembling the moussaka, slice them into ½ inch slices.

For the artichoke layer:
Arrange the sliced artichokes and sprinkle them with lemon juice, salt, and mint leaves. Refrigerate until assembling, for at least an hour.

For the asparagus onion layer:
In a large sauté pan, heat the oil and butter over medium heat. Add the garlic and onions and cook for a few minutes until the onions are translucent. Add the asparagus and continue to sauté for about 3-4 minutes more, stirring often. Add the spinach leaves, mint, oregano, and salt, and sauté for another 3 minutes until the spinach leaves are fully cooked and wilted into the mixture. Place in a bowl and refrigerate for at least an hour before assembly.

For the béchamel sauce:
Whisk the flour, spices, zest, and herbs together.

In a saucepan over low heat, melt the butter until smooth. Quickly stir in the flour mixture, whisking it into the butter until it forms a thick paste. Gradually add warm milk while continuing to whisk. Cook until creamy. Remove from heat. Stir in egg yolks, one at a time. Return to heat, whisking until combined. Place in a glass bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Allow it to cool to room temperature before assembly.

For the crunchy topping:
Meanwhile, make the breadcrumb topping by mixing all ingredients except the butter. Set aside.

Moussaka assembly:
Lightly grease a deep square baking dish, approximately 9 x 9 inches or round. Sprinkle a few spoonsful of the breadcrumb mixture on the bottom of the pan.

Cover the bottom of the pan with the potato mixture, followed by the artichoke mixture. Cover the artichoke layer with the asparagus mixture, then cover it with the béchamel sauce. Sprinkle with the breadcrumb mixture.

Bake for 45 minutes at 400°F or until the béchamel sauce turns a golden-brown hue. Let it cool for 15 to 20 minutes before serving.