herbs for a dry garden

dryland-herbs_rosemary

Is there any­thing bet­ter than fresh herbs from the garden?

For years I had herbs in my fairly dry veg­gie gar­den. Some of the herbs herbs thrived. Oth­ers sulked. Some died.

For­tu­nately, if you’re try­ing to cut down on water­ing, you still have a huge num­ber of herbs to choose from. For instance, many of the plants that you think of imme­di­ately when you hear the word “herb” orig­i­nate in the Mediter­ranean, and many of them pre­fer less mois­ture than other gar­den plants.

Below, I’ve listed some com­mon herbs that have done well for me dry spots, along with oth­ers that I’ve seen doing well in quite dry con­di­tions. There are lots of other selec­tions, but this list can get you going with more than a summer’s worth of recipes.

  • Rose­mary (Ros­mar­i­nus offic­i­nalis): You can pick from forms that sprawl, form a shrub, or grow straight up in spires.
  • dryland-herbs_purple-sageSage (Salvia offi­cianalis): Euro­pean Gar­den sage comes in lots of ver­sions in leaf color (green, golden, tri-color or pur­ple) and fla­vor (“sage” fla­vor, pineap­ple, or grape).
  • Oregano (Ori­g­anum vul­gare)
  • Mar­jo­ram (Ori­g­anum majo­rana)
  • Thyme (Thymus spp.): Some thymes, includ­ing many of those sold for orna­men­tal ground­cover use (such as T. ser­pi­phyl­lum) are only slightly scented or not at all. The culi­nary bush forms gen­er­ally have more scent and fla­vor, and they come in a wide range, includ­ing lemon and lime. They also tend to be more tol­er­ant of dry conditions.
  • Laven­der (Lavan­dula spp.): There are sev­eral laven­der species, as well as plenty of hybrids and vari­eties. All are at least some­what drought tol­er­ant. Some extremely so.
  • dryland-herbs_rose-geranium Scented gera­ni­ums (Pelargo­nium spp.): Take your pick of rose, apple, cin­na­mon, nut­meg, pineap­ple, lemon, lime, apri­cot and others.
  • Worm­wood (Artemisia spp.)
  • Mex­i­can oregano (Lip­pia grave­olens)
  • Fen­nel (Foenicu­lum vul­gare): Beau­ti­ful and tasty plants, but they’re con­sid­ered inva­sive in many loca­tions (includ­ing the entire Cal­i­for­nia floris­tic province). Research before you plant! There’s an attrac­tive bronze ver­sion that’s reputed to be less inva­sive. Still, I wouln’t plant it if reg­u­lar fen­nel is a prob­lem in your area.
  • Nas­tur­tium (Tropae­olum majus): With edi­ble, pep­pery leaves and flow­ers, some peo­ple con­sider this an herb. As with fen­nel, above, it can be inva­sive. Don’t plant it if it could escape. (Many of the moister hill­sides here in San Diego are cov­ered with the stuff.)
  • Lemon grass, both West-Indian (Cym­bo­pogon cit­ra­tus) and East-Indian (C. flex­u­o­sus): Sources tell you these plants like water, but I’ve found that they don’t mind going dry occa­sion­ally, espe­cially if they’re given some shade.

dryland-herbs_sweet-marjoram

Good eats!

May 24 2009 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 5 Comments »

pretty isn’t everything

Many years back I planted a rose gera­nium plant (Pelargo­nium grave­olens) and was close to pulling it out. The leaves had that inter­est­ing rosy, grassy rose-geranium scent, true enough, but the plant was sprawl­ing, leggy, and in its under­wa­tered spot looked nice only a cou­ple months a year.

What gave it a reprieve was the recipe in the Chez Panisse Desserts cook­book for rose gera­nium pound cake, a del­i­cate, sub­tle cloud of a dessert where even a tiny slice kept you cap­ti­vated with its hard-to-guess source of fla­vor. And the lit­tle ruf­fled leaves that you baked into the top of the cake were an awe­some decoration.

The kitchen remodel a cou­ple years ago involved a bull­dozer in the garden–usually not good news for the plants under its treads. The orig­i­nal rose gera­nium got squashed and dug up, and its orig­i­nal home is now a slab of con­crete in the din­ing area. (Check out the funny descrip­tion at Las Pil­i­tas nurs­ery for Pen­ste­mon Mar­garita B.O.P., a really cool plant that suf­fered a sim­i­lar fate, though for­tu­nately not until after it had been prop­a­gated. I never knew what the “B.O.P.” stood for until I read the note.)

Last week­end I finally bought a replace­ment. The small plant looked iden­ti­cal to what I’d grown before, but this one had a dif­fer­ent species name on the label, G. cap­i­ta­tum ‘Attar of Roses.’ The Dave’s Gar­den writeup shows big­ger, almost ivy-geranium-sized flow­ers on the plant, and the descrip­tion puts it at half the size of what I had before. And the scented gera­nium list at Herbal­pe­dia says there are at least 50 gera­ni­ums that have a rose scent.

Based on what I’ve seen from the plant, how­ever, I’m skep­ti­cal that my plant is much dif­fer­ent from the pre­vi­ous one. I’m not tak­ing chances. It went into the ground where it’ll be screened by a few other herbs.

Here’s the recipe in case you get moti­vated. Also check out the Herbal­pe­dia list above where you’ll find six­teen other recipes, plus lots more ideas of what to do with scented geraniums.

15–18 small rose gera­nium leaves
1 1/4 cups unsalted but­ter, soft­ened
1 1/3 cups sugar
3/4 tea­spoon vanilla extract
3/4 tea­spoon rose water
1 table­spoon plus 1 tea­spoon Cognac
6 eggs
1/8 tea­spoon mace
1/2 tea­spoon salt
1/2 tea­spoon cream of tar­tar
2 2/3 cups unsifted cake flour

But­ter and flour a 9-inch spring­form pan or a 10-inch bundt or tube pan. Rinse and dry the rose gera­nium leaves and arrange a dozen of the in a ring around the bot­tom fo the pan, under­sides up. Arrange the rest in the center.

Cream the but­ter until very light and fluffy. Beat in the sugar and con­tinue beat­ing until the mix­ture is fluffy again. Beat in the vanilla, rose water, and Cognac. Add the eggs one by one, beat­ing to incor­po­rate each one thor­oughly before adding the next one. Beat until the mix­ture is smooth. Mix the mace, salt and cream of tar­tar into the flour and sift the flour over the but­ter mix­ture in four por­tions, beat­ing just until each one is mixed in. Care­fully spoon some of the bat­ter into the pan to anchor the leaves in place. Pour the rest of the bat­ter into the pan and smooth it. Tap the pan on the counter to force out any air bubbles.

Bake in the cen­ter of a pre­heated 325 degree oven for about an hour and a quar­ter, or until a tooth­pick inserted in the cen­ter comes out clean. Cool. Turn out of the pan and option­ally dust lightly with pow­dered sugar that’s been stored with a vanilla bean. (I like it just fine with­out this step.)

August 07 2008 | Categories: my garden | Tags: | 2 Comments »