By Joel Denker
“The savor or smell of water minte rejoyceth the heart of man,” the seventeenth century herbalist John Gerard wrote. “The smell of minte does stir up the minde….”
Native to the Mediterranean, mint, a member of an aromatic family that includes basil, marjoram, and oregano, was, from the earliest times, more than a simple herb. In holy places, mint was also used to lift the spirits. A minty fragrance suffused Hebrew synagogues as parishioners stepped on the leaves and stems scattered on the floor.
In Greece, it added a festive touch to celebratory occasions. Guests often arrived wearing crowns made from the leaves. Sprays of mint decorated dining tables.
In Greek homes, mint was a token of hospitality. Families rubbed crushed mint leaves on their tabletops when guests were visiting.
Mint, Greeks also believed, was a tonic for the body. They scented their bath water with the aromatic, and Athenians rubbed their arms with it to strengthen them.
Mint, however, could be fearsome as well as exhilarating. It could cool the body as well as stimulate it. The Greeks captured their ambivalent feelings about the herb in a myth about its origins.
In one version of the myth, the water nymph Mintha, charmed by his golden chariot and four black horses, became the mistress of Hades, god of the underworld. When Hades married Persephone, the thwarted nymph threatened to drive her rival from the palace.
Enraged at the seductress, Persephone “tore her limb from limb,” as the French scholar Marcel Detienne tells it. Hades transformed the remains of his lover into a plant called menthe, or “sweet smelling.” The herb flourishes in the shade of the lower depths. In honor of Mentha, young Greek women wore bridal wreathes adorned with sprigs of mint.
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To learn more about mint, see The Carrot Purple and Other Curious Stories of the Food We Eat, coming in October from Rowman & Littlefield: https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781442248861/The-Carrot-Purple-and-Other-Curious-Stories-of-the-Food-We-Eat.
