Author Elizabeth Gilbert, in an interview with GQ about her great-grandmother's cookbook, At Home on the Range
Here's the thing about herbs. Once you start growing them, you can't rest. Just when you think it's perfect and (mostly) self-staining, they become woody, top heavy, and unruly. Despite regular pruning and dividing, they can begin to lose their zine and zest. That oregano you planted 30 years ago, transplanting from one home to the next, grows its own hill and towers 4 inches above ground level.
Then there are those that disappear - one year they're there and the next, they're nowhere to be found. My lemon balm and spearmint used to threaten to overtake not just the herb garden but half of the yard. Last year, the lemon balm was beginning to falter and this year, it had become just a few little sprigs, and the spearmint and mountain mint were just a memory. I re-propagated the lemon balm and it's growing well again, but isn't overbearing...yet. We're left with spearmint only, so I'm on a search for starts of peppermint and mountain mint. Combining mints make a much better flavored iced tea.
An herb expert friend told me that sometimes you just have to accept the realities of long growth and dig up a plant and start over, either with a small start from the original or from another source. Better yet, save some seeds and replant the next spring.
So...when the ground thawed and the world began to show signs of spring, I realized my beloved oregano and thyme plants had reached new heights -- literally. It was time to start digging. It took me a few days to dig up the oregano, which measured about 18 inches in diameter. Much of it was woody but there were small sections that looked promising. Digging down conjured images of Bob Crane and his special ops crew digging the secret tunnels under Stalag 13 in Hogan's Heroes.
After digging up the oregano and thyme, there were two craters and the whole bed looked excessively uneven. Maybe that's how it was all along and my chronic perfectionism failed to notice. Or maybe this is what retirement is really all about -- suddenly having the time to recognize the thousand and one flaws in the house and yard. Returning to work began to hold some appeal.
A few herbs have to be replanted each year. Parsley, although an annual, often reseeds itself and returns each year or survives the winter under the cover of leaves and snow. My mom had the most beautiful parsley that reappeared every year. She first transplanted it from the house my parents had lived in for 50 years to the condo she built after Dad died. Ten years later she moved to an independent living facility where she had a tall raised bed near her patio. The parsley survived that move, as well. Four years after her death, I wonder if it's still there. I planted parsley from seed this year -- first direct sown to the ground, and later in a pot. Fingers crossed both will continue to grow.
Basil usually does best for me if started inside or from an existing plant. I have three varieties including Genovese -- one in the garden and a volunteer in a pot with a cherry tomato -- one purple Globe, and one tiny sprig of cardinal basil. The rest of the cardinal seeds were swiped by a rogue squirrel.
Now nearly three months later, the herb garden is looking fairly healthy. I added a soil mixture to the craters that resulted from the excavation of the oregano and thyme before replanting some of the healthiest parts of the original plants. Both look great and taste so much fresher. I also added a lime thyme that smells amazing!
I'll probably have to do another round of digging and replanting with my 30-year-old lovage but it can wait until next year. The leaves of lovage look similar to celery leaves and it tastes remarkably like celery. It adds brightness to fresh salads and a great substitute for celery as it retains that flavor when cooked. I dry some to sprinkle on salads and omelets and freeze some for soups during the winter.
Now...if I could just find some spearmint! Always happy to swap herbs.
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