Urban Herbs
It’s January and Seattle mornings are nippy, yet I harvest fresh organic herbs almost daily to perk up salads, pizzas, hearty soups, or other dishes. Years ago I closed my beloved Silver Bay Herb Farm and became an urban herb gardener, and I still enjoy the pleasures of homegrown organic herbs. My former customers might be shocked, but I feel no shame in confessing that I no longer have an herb garden. No fancy knot garden, not a single bed dedicated exclusively to herbs.
Silver Bay boasted numerous herb gardens, each with a different theme, designed to educate visitors. There was a culinary garden, a fragrant garden, a tea garden, a medicinal garden, and beds of mixed mints, thymes, oreganos. Labels identified plants, and visitors could observe identifying characteristics, growth habits and eventual sizes. Rose bushes dotted the landscape, as did herbal trees like sweet bay, ginkgo, witch hazel, and bayberry. Beyond lay production gardens dedicated to culinary herbs sold to chefs.
Then I moved to the city. I wasn’t giving up gardening, or growing herbs, no way. I brought along plants galore, plus seeds, pots, garden tools, compost, and books, but my gardening parameters had changed dramatically. I had to adapt. What I’d grow was only for home use and sharing, but even so, the space seemed teeny.
Downsizing means making choices.There are hundreds, maybe thousands of plants that fit the shorthand definition of herbs as “the useful plants.” They include annuals, perennials, biennials, vines, shrubs, even trees, and belong to many plant families.
This is my third home and garden since that initial wrenching move, and in the process I’ve narrowed my herbal choices down to the ones I use most often, plus others that are nice to have around. New introductions and discoveries keep things interesting. Most of my current growing space is in a fenced backyard with full sun and sandy, quick draining soil—ideal for many herbs, but they grow in other areas around the place too.
On the deck, just a few steps from my kitchen, two rectangular planters contain curled and Italian parsley, thyme, and cutting celery (a terrific newcomer), handy year round. In summer, tarragon, chives, and garlic chives regrow from dormant clumps, and sweet marjoram, summer savory, and nasturtiums fill out the planters. I usually I fill another container with assorted basil varieties. A large pot, perhaps 25 gallons, holds a bay tree that provides plenty of flavorful leaves for soups, stews, and other slow-cooked dishes. Individual pots hold scented geraniums, pineapple sage, and lemon verbena which go into the garage for winter protection.
My “main” garden is laid out in rectangular beds, where I grow vegetables on a rotating basis, interspersed with herbs. In one bed, usually with various greens, I sow cilantro and dill in four-inch-wide bands about three to five weeks apart to supplement the volunteers that pop up from previous years’ plants. I’d love to grow an entire bed of garlic, but purchased heads infested the soil with black rot, so I’m limited to pots and purchased sterile potting mix. Basil gets a prime spot, with compost and organic fertilizer dug in before planting. I favor Genovese, Sweet or similar varieties, plus Cinnamon for Vietnamese dishes, and sometimes add Dark Opal, Mrs. Burns’ Lemon, or fusarium-resistant Nufar. Fragrant tulsi, or holy basil, is in a category by itself. So is charming Aristotle, which forms tight balls with tiny leaves, both flavorful and ornamental.
Nearby, in a mixed bed with perennials and low shrubs, a Tuscan Blue rosemary grows so vigorously it requires regular pruning to limit its size. Lavenders thrive here, also in pots strategically placed among other perennials. White-flowered Greek oregano and lemon balm also grow in this bed, rather than among the vegetables, due to their spreading habits. Tall, perennial lovage, which I prize for the intriguing flavor of its leaves and roots, thrives in the partial shade of a Japanese maple. Spearmint and apple mint are relegated to the edges of the garden. Since they’re not confined by concrete or in pots, they sneak into beds and try to take over. I root them out every year or two, but they come back. I moved my big Berggarten sage into a neighbor’s garden, and we share.
Many of the herbs mentioned have medicinal properties, including lemon balm (often underrated), garlic, tulsi, and lavender. There’s also calendula, which self-sows and brightens the garden with its orange flowers for most of the year. German chamomile sometimes self-sows and sometimes dies out. I want to grow big pollinator-attracting angelica again, but the seeds must be fresh. And I’m excited to harvest my own homegrown Echinacea purpurea roots for the first time and tincture them. A friend gave me two plants, and they’ve grown big. Two autumns ago, after their pinkish-lavender petals dropped and their seedheads ripened, I harvested the small seeds and sowed them in a flat. Success! Two dozen germinated, and now grow in a little patch. This spring I’ll move them to—where? That’s the problem—there’s never enough room in the garden.
Many seed catalogs and packet descriptions offer detailed information on herbs and how to grow them. I highly recommend Nichols Garden Nursery (carries Nufar and Aristotle basil seeds) and Territorial Seed Company, both from Oregon; Renee’s Garden Seeds based in California; and Johnny’s Selected Seeds of Maine. Most of these companies also carry plants and garden supplies. If you plan to order, don’t delay!