The Accidental Herbalist

The Accidental Herbalist

I have know idea how I suddenly became master of the herbs, but there you go. I’ve always been intrigued by growing herbs…legal ones. In fact, I don’t think I’d even know what the illegal ones look like. Well, that’s not true. The truth is I never…that’s another story.

Let me start again. I’ve always been intrigued by herbs and have always wanted to be a successful herb cultivator. In my gardens in the past, I’ve prided myself in my ability to grow green beans and peas, but I’ve always failed miserably at growing corn and potatoes. The same is true for herbs. I find that I can grow any kind of mint easily, and the catnip around my house is virtually out of control in the summer. In fact, I think it’s beginning to squeeze out the grass in my lawn.

As fall came upon us this year, I successfully harvested several trash bags of catnip which I dried and then broke up, condensing the haul into one solid quart-sized “brick.” Several people commented that the brick looked a little illegal, but I assure you that wasn’t the case. After a few weeks of letting it hang around in my garage, I gave the brick to my parents and their two cats, Ginger and Pearl. I’m not sure, but I think my catnip contributed to Ginger’s recent attack on my father.

Ginger, after sleeping in a chair of catnip, went to sleep in my father’s bed. Sometime during the night, he moved his foot under the covers, and Ginger, a skinny, wild tortoise-shell cat, pounced on the moving mound with her claws and teeth ripping into my father’s leg. His skin is rather paper thin these days, and he found himself wounded, bleeding profusely. He had to go visit his plastic surgeon to get specialized wound care which consists primarily of wearing a very uncomfortable netted stocking for several weeks. Ginger…she scampered off to her pile of catnip.

Anyway, back to my herb story.

So last year, I grew an herb garden with my new Aerogarden™. I must say that the garden was quite successful. When it was about spent, I transferred the herbs outside into a little flower bed garden on the south side of my house. The oregano did well as did the basil, but the rosemary absolutely took off. It grew extremely fast and began to spread and smother out everything in the bed. I fully expected the rosemary to die at first freeze, but it weathered the cold and continued to thrive despite temperatures in the low teens on several nights.

So two days ago, I decided I needed to do something with the rosemary. I needed to trim it back, at least a little bit. So I went out with my pruning shears and captured 3-13 gallon trash bags of rosemary sprigs. Now, I’m no herbalist. In fact, I’ve always gotten rosemary confused with thyme, but no longer. Rosemary is a stem and stubby-leafed herb that spreads along the ground and grows into low growing shrubs if allowed to go wild. That’s where mine was heading. It looks like the needles on a Frazier Fir - stiff, elongated needles.

I did some reading and discovered that fresh sprigs of rosemary are selling on eBay for $0.99 plus shipping/handling. I wasn’t much interested in getting involved with eBay or messing with rosemary that much, but it was apparent that I had about $750 worth of rosemary should I choose to go that route. I also discovered that other than selling it fresh, rosemary can be dried or frozen. Drying is a common way of processing rosemary, but the herb loses some potency. Freezing is less common, but since the needles are so stiff, they freeze well.

Right then and there, I decided that I would freeze my rosemary. So I began by cutting the long stems into manageable pieces. Then I rinsed them and loaded the pieces into my salad spinner. From there, I put the needle-filled stems into a gallon-sized Ziploc bag and tossed them into my freezer. After a couple of weeks, I’ll take the bags out and separate the needles from the stems. The needles should crumble off if I roll them with a rolling pin. Then I’ll put the needles into quart-sized baggies or mason jars before and put them back in the freezer. I just might save the stems to use as lamb skewers. So far, I’ve put up two-gallon sized bags, and I’ve only touched about ½ of my first garbage bag of rosemary.

I made several unusual discoveries while working with this herb. The first is that rosemary smells up a house. I mean it has a powerful evergreen odor, like a pine forest on steroids. The plant has a light sticky sap that coats your hands and the odor permeates your clothing. Last night I had a hard time sleeping because my body reeked of rosemary scent. I read online that rosemary is used as a base in many perfumes. I can certainly understand why. I think it’s what gives perfume that relentless odor. I also read that rosemary supposedly cures headaches, soothes an upset stomach, and helps sharpen a person’s memory. I don’t know about that, but I do know that it gives me a headache.

My second discovery is that when you rinse rosemary in a stainless steel bowl, the water turns lime green. It looks like it would be good to drink, but I’m skeptical. I read somewhere that,

Many livestock deaths are attributable to wild species of the blueberry family, such as lambkill and laurel, but human beings have to eat a lot of leaves to get sick. The Delaware Aboriginal people reportedly used laurel tea to commit suicide; it must have taken quite a brew to get fatal effects.

Being that rosemary looks dangerous, I imagine a tea that will cause me to convulse and wretch.

My other discovery really took me by surprise. As I was spinning the herb in my salad spinner, I began to hear a fizzing sound. I uncovered the spinner, pulled out the rosemary basket, and there at the bottom of the spinner was a true fizzing lime green liquid. It looked and sounded just like those Fizzies from the 1950’s. Pop a tablet in, watch it fizz and turn green, red, or blue. I loved green. I also loved Alka-Seltzer until I had to drink it.

So tomorrow, I need to finish processing the other two and a half garbage bags of rosemary. I sure hope I don’t turn lime green and fizz myself away.

A sprig of Rosemary

A typically long stem of Rosemary

One of my two gallon sized baggies of Rosemary

My haul so far

One bag

Ready for washing and drying