Twisted's Story

Tucked into the downtown area of Whitefish, Montana, Twisted Nose Gardens is all about twisting the expected. Putting the screw to ordinary and eating on the edge.

First the epistemology of Twisted Nose.

Nasturtium comes from the Latin nasus tortus, which means "twisted nose."  Although the nasturtium actually names and entirely different plant -- something in the watercress family -- than the common garden flower, both plants have a peppery taste and somehow it got mixed up.

My obsession with nasturtiums began as I created a small veggy garden on my small city lot.  I planted a few the first year because I'd read that they would ward off bad bugs and attract good bugs.  Bonus -- they are pretty, I thought, and bought several seed packets.  I poked the little buggers into the science-lab perfect raised beds I'd created.

Alas I had fallen victim to that treacherous new  gardener mistake.  Those tiny seeds (maybe thirty of them) became huge plants. They dripped and burst from everywhere.  While the plants I intended to eat did fine, the nasturtiums did, well, superduper finer.  They were that friend who upstages you at your own party.  They were a sublime tangle of orange, red, yellow flowers.  Everywhere.

So I did what any obsessed gardener does when confronted with a problem.  I googled.

Wonder of wonders, I discovered I could eat my nasturtiums.  All summer I embellished salads with nat leaves, a few flowers for color.  I picked green seeds for added crunch.  I loved them.  My husband and son loved them.  I felt so proud.

Fall came.  I had dozens of doomed but thriving nats.  What a waste, I thought as I pulled up the darlings and stacked them on the front lawn.  I meant to put them on the fledgling compost pile I was trying to figure out.  I just couldn't do it.

I typed into Google.  "What to do with a mass of Nasturiums."

Google answered, "Pesto."  Google answered, "Poor-man's capers."  Google answered, "Infused oils and vinegars."

Being as how I was still obsessed, I made them all.  I made tons of them all.  I couldn't store all I made.  I gave away to friends.  I started cooking with my nat-esto and nat-oils and nat-vinegars and nat-capers.  I love it.  My son, who is fourteen and a pesto aficionado, declared, "Better than basil pesto."

Friends came back to me.  "More nat-esto please, more oils, more nat-apers."  I gave and used all winter.

This year I decided to share my nasturtium with my little corner of the globe.

Along the way, I've turned my over abundance of thyme, rose, mint and lavender into cocktail, soda-alternative, pancake, and smoothie-friendly syrups.

Twisted Nose goes beyond organic.  Every plant is treated with loving care.  I pour my morning coffee grounds on my roses.  I play waltzes on my violin to all the inhabitants.  I sing when I water them and dance naked for them under the moonlight.  Pretty much.

Twisted Nose is about unique and boutique culinary finds.