Young, I hadn’t the faintest notion of purslane, though I had beard
of and even tried out watercress, fashionable in the Fifties.
Purslane has less crunch, more moist munch.
As for chewy shiso, decoratively as garnish
or rolled into a temaki cone, it appears often in sushi
(すし, 寿司, 鮨 as variously transcribed).
I found some the same morning in a stall in the market.
Hyssop could have served as well, but serendipity rules,
especially in the kitchen, as in the writing of poems.
You are supposed to emprison shelled baby peas
in a cage of lettuce (which is related to daisy),
this to infuse them with vegetal fumes and flavour.
If the peas are tender enough, skip steaming them.
Just sizzle in butter, adding the hand-picked lobes of purslane
along with some splashes of white wine or stock.
Then you have to decide. Do you want to tear the shiso
into unrecognizable bits, letting wait until its distinct taste
imposes cognizance of what it is upon your guests?
Or would you rather show off its bright-green fractal leaves
by inserting them whole at angles around the dish of peas?