I was watering containers around the Café one weekend in September when a woman stopped me to ask some questions about herbs. She had seen the large containers of parsley on display and was wondering what we did to keep the plant so healthy.
She explained that she had purchased parsley this summer and had placed it on her windowsill in her kitchen. It was not as verdant and vibrant as ours, and she was wondering what she had done wrong. I explained that our container displays comprised several plants to create a lavish appearance, but it was not simply quantity but also the size of the container that produced the bountiful display.
For your herbs to thrive, they need ample space to grow. Herbs are generally sold in spring in small, three- to four-inch pots. The small sizes of the pots are convenient for growers and it keeps the price down. Once you bring it home, the herb will need a bigger home so the root system can expand to support the plant.
If the herb is to be placed on your windowsill within arm’s reach of your cutting board, you probably won’t be able to repot it in a larger container, but even bumping it up to a six-inch pot will make a world of difference.
As a biennial, parsley comes up in its first year with foliage in full splendor, then it quietly overwinters and flowers the following season. A member of the Apiaceae family alongside dill, fennel, and lovage, parsley’s flowers are beautiful yellow umbels. The foliage in the first year forms a lush rosette which is often what you’ll find in the grocery store. In the second year, when it flowers, the foliage is sparse and elongated.
But despite its versatility and hardiness, parsley is notoriously difficult to grow from seed. I generally recommend that people soak their seeds overnight in lukewarm water to aid in germination. While parsley can sometimes take anywhere from one to six weeks to germinate, the soaking still helps speed up the process.
In Greek mythology, the goddess Persephone suspected her husband Hades, god of the underworld, of having a tryst with a nymph named Minthe. In a jealous rage, she transformed the lovely nymph into a perennial herb. Hades, unable to counteract his wife’s spell, bestowed Minthe with a sweet smell so that she would continue to delight those who came in contact with her.
Clearly, the aromatic qualities of mint are legendary. Through the centuries, mint has played an important role in many cultures, from the Greeks who rubbed mint leaves on their tables to welcome guests, to India, where it was strewn around temples and homes to clean the air. In the middle east, mint tea is often brought out to greet friends in the home.
Unlike many herbs that prefer sunny, dry spots, mints prefer moist soil in part shade/sun. As many of us know too well from experience, however, they are highly adaptable plants—and that’s putting it mildly. They grow in a wide range of conditions and are only too happy to expand their territory once they are planted in the ground. When I was a kid, my mother planted peppermint behind the vegetable garden; years later, the vegetable garden is gone, but the mint still thrives.
The word “thyme” is derived from two possible Greek sources. One term means “to fumigate”—in ancient Greece, thyme was burnt at temples as incense, owing to its nice balsam odor. The other possible source is an association with courage. This association lasted from ancient Greece through the Middle Ages, when women gave knights gifts embroidered or decorated with thyme to inspire bravery.
These days, thyme—with its aromatic oils–is usually associated with invigoration. It is an asset in any landscape and makes a wonderful woody ground cover or a lawn alternative, as it is now commonly known. The diminutive pale pink or lavender flowers are a magnet for bees and help them to produce a wonderful honey. A large industry exists for extracting the herb’s essential oils. These oils are primarily distilled in the South of France, where the arid climate suits the plant’s Mediterranean temperament perfectly.
Some varieties of thyme have their place in the kitchen while others are more suited for the landscape. The most popular thyme is English thyme (Thymus vulgaris). English thyme is not native to England—the Romans introduced the herb—but the Brits took it on as their own. It has the strong, distinctive flavor that we most associate with the herb today.
Influenced by our culinary experiences, many of us likely think of basil (Ocimum basilicum) as originating in Italy. However, you might be surprised to find that this popular culinary herb is actually endemic to India, where it then spread to Asia, Africa, and Europe.
Basil is simple to sow from seed, and a cheap and easy way to include delicious diversity into your garden. We often combine several different types of basil together for an attractive display in the herb garden, vegetable garden, and sometimes a mixed border. But because basil is sensitive to frost, it is important to wait until the weather has warmed before it’s placed outdoors.
The name oregano is derived from the Greek oros (meaning mountain) and ganos (meaning joy). The literal translation means “mountain of happiness,” since it covers hillsides in the Mediterranean and smothers them with beautiful fragrance and flowers. For our purposes, that translation still applies, as oregano is a fundamental herb that provides as much flavorful happiness as it does beauty or aroma.
Greek and Roman brides and grooms used to be crowned with laurels made of oregano. It is a popular herb in Mediterranean countries and widely grown in the south of France, where it finds a prominent place in various regional cuisines.
On a more practical level, oregano is an herb that retains its flavor well when dried. For a quick primer on drying herbs, it is important to harvest your herbs mid-morning, once the dew has a chance to dry off, but before they are wilted by the hot afternoon sun. Inspect the herbs and remove any damaged or diseased foliage.
I always think of herbs in terms of their flavor blast—they transform even the most mundane dinners into gourmet meals. Last summer while our Wild Medicine exhibition was taking place, I took a step further and began exploring their curative properties. I spent that summer investigating eclectic herbal shops in NYC, perusing collections of neatly alphabetized glass jars filled with every dried herb and spice imaginable. My primary tools of investigation were my nose and taste buds, and most of the herbs became teas once I got them home.
I learned that thyme settles the stomach and is a good remedy for coughs; marjoram can aid against sinking moods and benefit a good night’s sleep; peppermint will aid digestion and fight headaches and stuffy noses; sage helps against sore throats and gums; and tarragon is good for toothaches. Some say the ever-popular basil can even bring relief to arthritis sufferers.
This year I delved a little deeper into herbal health benefits. I began my investigation with thyme, since I was familiar with its active ingredient—thymol—not in a medicinal context, but as an effective ingredient in most pest repellants (deer and rabbits).
Cold season: It’s as inevitable a piece of the New York City calendar as the Marathon, the Thanksgiving Day parade, and New Year’s Eve in Times Square. Colds are miserable and difficult to get over, but that doesn’t mean you have no recourse. In fact your local greenmarket, grocery store, garden, or crisper bin might just hold a few plants that can help you get through the winter with a slightly cheerier demeanor. No, seriously.
Next Tuesday at our Midtown Adult Education Center in Manhattan, Andrea Karo will be teaching you how to make your own herbal medicine kit. Learn how medicinal herbs and lifestyle approaches can help prevent and treat common winter woes including coughs, earaches, fevers, sore throats, and stuffy noses. After seeing easy-to-follow demonstrations for making syrups, soothing oils, natural decongestants, and healthy teas, you’ll go home ready to stock your own herbal medicine kit.
We all have good intentions. Recently I was perusing well-known quotes on ‘good intentions’ when I came across one that I liked from Jeffery Kluger, a senior writer at Time Magazine. It reads as follows: “There’s a deep-freeze of sorts for all good intentions—a place that you store your plans to make changes in your life when you know you’re not going to make them at all.”
This blog entry is about making good on ‘good intentions’ which may incidentally involve a deep freeze. Every year I plant at least four different types of basil. I do this partially for experimental purposes, though mostly because I love having fresh basil around in the summer. But how often do I actually use it?
That is where good intentions come in. Often basil from my garden or from the store lies around the kitchen before it is all used up. I am ridiculously frivolous and wasteful when it comes to basil. Try as I might, there is something about summer that just does it to me. I swear I will be more vigilant and still it blackens and wilts before my eyes.
What, then, can be done to excess basil to ensure that it is put it to good use throughout the year? When I buy or pick a large bundle of basil, the first thing I generally do is stick the long stems in a glass of water to keep it hydrated. I use it like a vase arrangement and place it on the corner of my kitchen counter at arm’s length from my cutting board.
Liz Neves is an herbalist, permaculturist, and compost turner living in Brooklyn, NY.
While both rose and lavender are revered for their beauty and aroma, they also have the ability to prove profoundly healing for the body in a variety of applications. Much of this is due to their appealing sights and scents, but there is much more than meets the eye–and nose–when it comes to lavender and rose.
“If you wish,” wrote the 16th century Azerbaijani poet Fuzuli, “you can find a cure for all of your problems in the rose garden, in curative rose water in the pot of the bud.” In hindsight, he was onto something.
