I could barely believe my eyes yesterday when I opened the latest from Consumer Reports—a source I usually trust—to read an article about dietary supplements. Although the article did have some good information, it seemed to me to be poorly researched and mostly to have missed the mark. (Report: Dietary Supplements Pose Health Risks) 

Anyone who pays attention knows there are some very bad players in this industry (And if you don't know that, I worry about what you might be putting in your body). The whole issue of quality is part of what complicates our job so much here at The Herb Companion. I’d love to wholeheartedly endorse any plant medicine that comes down the pike, but that would be foolish and wrong. Some companies use the wrong ingredients, some don’t use enough, some don’t use the correct variety of an herb that can be healing if you use A, and strictly ornamental if you use variety B. (Echinacea is one very common example.) And don’t even get me started on the medicines and supplements that come to us from China. Remember melamine in infant formula, anyone?

Some companies use the wrong variety of echinacea in their dietary supplements,
but that doesn't mean that all echinacea is ineffective for immune-boosting.
Photo by Peter Rosbjerg/Courtesy of Flickr.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/peterrosbjerg/

So those of us who care about plant medicines also care about the regulatory environment. If I had my way, we’d follow Germany’s lead and set up our own version of their Commission E to test and regulate herbal medicine. I certainly wouldn’t follow the lead of the FDA, which these days routinely rushes approval of pharmaceutical drugs that later prove to be costly and even deadly failures. Vioxx, anyone? Oopsie!

I wish medical doctors could be relied on to give us accurate information about pharmaceutical drugs and also about plant medicines, so we could work in partnership with well-educated health-care practitioners to choose what's best in each situation according to what's best for our individual bodies and life situations. Sadly, that is not the case. A handful of medical doctors take the time and trouble to sort these issues out, but far more are as dismissive as this Consumer Reports article—and as poorly informed.

I’m not anti-regulation by any means. I’m just against testing and regulation that’s paid for by very large corporations with a very large stake in their drugs being pre-approved while inexpensive, nature-based remedies are marginalized or even banned. We just have to find a better way than this.

Here’s what the Natural Products Association had to say about the article:

NPA Calls Consumer Reports Article ‘An Attack on Supplements’

Story’s data are questionable

The Natural Products Association (NPA) has issued the following statement concerning the September 2010 issue of Consumer Reports magazine:

• The latest edition of Consumer Reports is an attack on dietary supplements -- including a call for additional regulation of the industry -- that presents a far from balanced and accurate representation of the industry or the laws that regulate it.

• For example, a number of the mentioned products are actually illegal drugs – not supplements, and only available from those violating the laws. (See: FDA: Dietary Supplement Alerts and Safety Information)

• The NPA questions the data Consumer Reports are using to suggest the dietary supplement industry suffers from inadequate quality controls. In actuality, evidence from the government suggests the contrary. Earlier this year, the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO) tested a number of products finding only trace amounts of contaminants, leading the FDA to testify before Congress that “we do not believe these levels represent a significant risk to health.” It is curious that Consumers Union, publisher of Consumer Reports and also a witness at that hearing, did not mention this testimony in the article.

• The U.S. supplement industry has an enviable safety record, especially when compared with other FDA-regulated sectors, and the industry has supported and continues to support measures to make supplements even safer.

      + NPA supported enactment of the Dietary Supplement Health and Education Act (DSHEA).

      + NPA supported enactment of the legislation creating the Adverse Event Reporting system.

      + NPA supported implementation by the Food and Drug Administration of Good Manufacturing Practices, even launching our own GMP certification program in 1999.

• NPA supports the full implementation of DSHEA - including providing additional resources for these agencies. To that end, NPA endorses S. 3414, the Dietary Supplement Full Implementation and Enforcement Act of 2010, introduced by Sen. Tom Harkin (D-IA) and Sen. Orrin Hatch (R-UT).

This is a totally subjective list—let’s just get that out of the way at the outset. However, these are the herbs that I simply have trouble envisioning any kitchen garden living without. Feel free to correct and tweak my list, and to add recipes of your own (particularly for tarragon, my favorite, for which I have oddly few recipes). Here’s the list:

1. Basil: Is there a better flavor in the summer than fresh basil, tomato slices, fresh mozzarella and basil leaves, drizzled with a bit of balsamic vinegar? I can’t imagine it. And for sheer beauty and generosity, basil has to rank at the top of any gardener’s list. Even in my earliest, dumbest gardening days, I never killed a basil—which tells me it’s one fabulous, hearty plant. I know people can live without pesto, but really. What kind of life is that? Genovese remains my favorite variety, although I also love growing a purple basil (‘Opal’ or ‘Purple ruffles’), just because they’re so pretty. I haven’t grown lemon basil, but might try that this year if I get myself together to do a container garden.

2. Dill: The unmitigated joy of dill—other than the fact that it’s this year’s Herb of the Year—rests in its beauty, aroma, flavor and gardener-friendly growing habits. As Susan Belsinger wrote in her article “2010 Herb of the Year: Dill”, dill is “stalwart and accommodating all year.” You can plant it in the early spring with your first lettuces, and watch it bloom into beautiful umbrellas at summer’s end. And if you leave them be, those seed heads seem perfectly designed to catch the first snows of winter and arrange themselves artfully even after every green, growing thing has turned brown and called it a wrap.

3. French Tarragon: I don’t know anyone nuttier for French tarragon than I am. My friend, Cheryl Long, editor in chief over at Mother Earth News, is my tarragon pusher. I asked her eagerly last week if hers had started greening up yet. She said No, but she still had some dried from last year. The next morning, I found on my desk a bagful of the sweet-smelling stuff and I could have just buried my head in it then and there. Pure deliciousness. The odd thing is, I don’t like licorice at all, and tarragon has a little licorice-y under-flavor. But tarragon is one of those aromas that just make me swoon. Oddly, I have only two favorite recipes with it—Tarragon Chicken and Tarragon Vinegar. So if you have suggestions, I’m open.

A word of caution, however: Some nurseries don’t know the distinction between French tarragon (Artemisia dracunculus L.) and Russian tarragon (A. dracunculoides L.), a weedy and not wonderful plant with a resin-y flavor. You need to start French tarragon from cuttings or live plants, as it’s very difficult (maybe impossible?) to start from seed. If you’ve tasted tarragon that isn’t happiness in your mouth, my bet is that you got Russian rather than French. Ptooie.

This kitchen garden includes parsley, chives, lovage, fennel, dill and lots of basil.
Courtesy Flickr/Photo by Lydiat
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lydiat/

4. Thyme: What a storied history this simple survivor has. It’s found in cuisines around the world and has been a part of the human experience for thousands of years, allegedly propagated by the Romans in their march to annex the world (and maybe they got it from the Egyptians, who used it in their embalming process). Thymus vulgaris doesn’t flop over if it’s somewhat neglected. It likes growing in sunny, well-drained and even somewhat inhospitable locations and tastes like nothing else in the world. It likes to stew a bit before it lets go of its flavor, so, unlike many herbs, it’s OK to throw it in at the beginning of a soup rather than adding it as a last flourish. It also has sweet little flowers that make me happy. 

5. Marjoram: I prefer marjoram (Origanum majorana, Lamiaceae) to its stronger flavored cousin, oregano. It is another Mediterranean herb that loves sun and well-drained soil. It isn’t a beautiful plant like the showy basil and dill, but so tasty.

6. Garlic: I have to admit, I have never grown garlic myself. There you have it. However, many of my friends grow garlic and I will always take as much as I can get because I try to eat some garlic every day. I simply cannot imagine life without garlic.

7. Onion: Ditto onion, although I have grown onions from time to time. How can one cook anything savory without onion? I understand (somewhat, but not really) objections to the aroma of raw onions on one’s breath, but this is why God gave us mint. And I completely believe what my Grandmother Whetstone said when she used to eat onion sandwiches (between slices of Wonder Bread!) that you’ll never have colds if you eat plenty of onion. This could be because no one will get close enough to transmit the viruses (see “breath” above). Still, life without onions would be sad indeed.

8. Sage: Since I first discovered gnocchi in sage and browned butter sauce, I have been a big sage fan. It always reminds me of Thanksgiving because my mother made the best cornbread stuffing in the world and what set it apart from every other Southern cook whose stuffing I’ve tasted is that she really saged it up. But it was the gnocchi that really made me a sage fan.

Extra points: Pineapple sage. This is another one that I could just sit and smell all day. I have no idea why some aromas land harder in my psyche than others, but pineapple sage is one I’m completely crazy for.  I’m afraid I haven’t been very inventive with it—just use it in fruit salads, in vanilla yoghurt or on baked chicken. Anyone else have a better idea?

9. Flat Parsley: I hadn’t really developed a passion for flat parsley until I went to Italy a couple of years ago and found it in most of the dishes I really loved. Then I came back to the states, googled it and discovered how incredibly healthy it is. Now, my pasta in the summertime is more an excuse to serve parsley than a reason to eat noodles. I could eat flat parsley every single day. (Not so much the curly variety, for some reason.)

10. Ginger: Again, confession time: I have never grown my own ginger. I also have never turned it down when someone offered it to me. It is a beautiful plant and worth having around for no other reason than that. But it also is a medicinal and flavor powerhouse, able to perk up the taste buds, settle the stomach, lower cholesterol and ease the pain of arthritis, among multiple other uses. It, along with garlic, is one of my desert-island plants.

I could go on and on. Limiting myself to 10 is a challenge, and I find that I’m somewhat promiscuous where herbs are concerned: I tend to love the one I’m with, and find my affections quickly swayed by a whiff of something new or unusual. But at the very least, these 10 are the ones … no, wait … I left out lemon balm. And mint. And …

OK, maybe the top 20 herbs every gardener shouldn’t be without …

Sometimes, when people hear what a fan I am of herbal medicine, they immediately decide that this means I’m NOT in favor of Western, high-tech medicine. If you could see my bandaged paw today, you’d see that this is not the case at all.

A couple of days ago, I had a relatively minor surgery for a carpal-tunnel type injury. A little anesthesia, a few snips, and, as far as I can tell, problem solved. For things like this, I’m actually quite grateful and even fond of the highly technical, precision operating theater that’s just a few miles from my house.

I did a few things herbal to prepare myself for the surgery, however, and I will do a few more once the incision has healed. This article has been my pre-op nutritional guide: "Holistic Healing For Surgery." Soon it will be off to the calendula ointment and elder salve with me. One of the best things I’ve gotten out of my job as an editor for The Herb Companion is the awareness of these amazingly effective herbs for healing insults to our epidermis.

Calendula (Calendula officinalis) has been a garden staple for centuries, thanks to its springy blossoms and skin-soothing abilities.
Photo by Buttersweet/Courtesy Flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/buttersweet/

Soon, I’ll take myself over to my friend June, the fabulous body-worker so she can start working on all my moving parts around the surgery to make sure I don’t get stuck with any impairment in function in response to the invasion of those tissues and tendons.

This high-tech combo of a good surgeon, integrated medicine and effective herbs works great for me. I’d love to see that paradigm grow and grow and grow. 

I had one of the best pork chops of my life last night, thanks to a homegrown hog and Nancy, also known to our blog friends as The Lemon Verbena Lady. (Visit her at her blog Lemon Verbena Lady's Herb Garden.)

The pork chop came to me by way of my friends Ken and Nancy Krause, who own Fieldstone, the farm where I once lived. They raise heirloom apples and tomatoes, and this year decided to add some hogs to the menagerie at the farm, to help put all that apple and tomato excess to good use.

They asked if I wanted to buy a pig at the same time and, for the first time in my life, I agreed. The piglet grew to more than 100 pounds in just a few months and is now a whole lot of pork in my freezer. This is the first time I’ve ever actually known an animal that ended up as dinner and I have to admit, it was a challenge. The first time I cooked anything from No. 49 (I refused to name my pig—it was just too macabre), I actually cried.

Then I tasted the bacon—the best I’ve ever had—and pretty much worked through my feelings about the whole process. Here’s where I’ve come down on this issue, after considering it from many, many, many different directions on a continuum from strict veganism to what-the-hell carnivore. I think these animals—pigs, cattle, chickens, etc.—are alive now because humans have been raising and eating them for thousands of years. I think species eat other species and we are a species with pointy teeth for a reason.

Photo by Daniel Y. Go/Courtesy Flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/danielygo

My piggy had an enviable life, considering how most animals live. He got to gallop around in a large paddock, with weeds and roots and berries and all kinds of tasty treats. He also got fed bushel after bushel of heirloom apples and tomatoes, plus a few bushels of expensive heirloom carrots that turned mysteriously bitter (these were mine: I never have figured out what happened to them, but the pigs were really happy with my gardening insufficiency), and kitchen scraps from not one but two really good cooks. An absolutely elegant, enclosed system that echoes the way humans have been doing things for millennia.

So every day of the pig’s life was a pretty great day, except that last one. The processing was done just a few blocks from the farm by people who absolutely know what they’re doing—the most local of local consumption. So I now have hams, ham steaks, chops, bacon, bacon ends, ham hocks, and lots of sausage. Because I live alone and didn’t want to eat pork every single day for the rest of the next decade, I shared half with a friend here at work. But I still have enough that I won’t go hungry for at least a year. My total cost was right at $100, which works out to about $2 a pound. A deal, for sure.

So last night, I defrosted my first package of chops. What I thought was a pack of four actually was a pack of two very thick chops. I browned them really well, salted and peppered, covered them for about 20 minutes until the meat was no longer pink and called it dinner. The flavor was simply indescribable, and utterly delicious.

The piece de resistance was a jar of Rosemary-Garlic Jelly that The Lemon Verbena Lady sent for Christmas. I can’t imagine a better flavor to go with pork and I had to restrain myself to save the second chop for another day. (Click here for the recipe.)

Photo by The Lemon Verbena Lady 

Meanwhile, my taste buds are doing the happy dance and asking for more, more, more. Once again, herbs (rosemary and garlic) took an already delicious meal from good to extraordinary. Gotta love those herbal upgrades!

As someone who reads cookbooks the way other people read romance novels, my affections change frequently. I have the standbys—Moosewood Cookbook, The Joy of Cooking, The Smithsonian Folklore Cookbook (for its ultra-simple bread recipe), James Peterson’s Vegetables and so forth—but find myself occasionally so overrun by cookbooks that I weed a few out by giving to friends or donating to a worthy cause.

One way I can tell if a cookbook is destined to join my permanent staff is the number of times I flag a recipe when I first read the book. I am happy to tell you that my new favorite cookbook was so oft-flagged, it looked as though I had given it a Post-it fringe. I think this one is here to stay.

It’s the Quick from Scratch Italian Cookbook (Food & Wine Books), edited by Judith Hill. If Judith got to taste all these recipes before she put them in the book, she was one lucky editor. I like the “Test-Kitchen Tips” in the front of the book, with useful information on such items as what to do if your Parmesan dries out, how to store fresh basil or steps to making perfectly cooked risotto, and the handy-dandy list of Italian wines, with a list of foods they dance well with; and a list of Italian cheeses with descriptions of what we can expect of them (“starts out mild-mannered, sharper flavor with age, becomes quite provocative after about a year”).

But it’s the recipes that made me happiest. All live up to the book’s title “Quick From Scratch”—none seemed complicated, all look as though you could go from ingredient to table in a half hour or so, and the few I’ve tried so far bear out that assumption.  This would be a good cookbook for an inexperienced cook, but those of us who’ve been around the kitchen a time or two will find plenty to appreciate in its simple, delicious flavors.

My favorites thus far are:

• Roasted Peppers with Caper Dressing, which I gussied up with a little chopped basil and a can of tuna and called a meal;
• Grilled Zucchini with Fresh Mozzarella, which is simple and scrumptious and answers the age-old question, “What am I supposed to do with all this @#$@ zucchini;”
• Sausage and Mushroom Soup, which I made with a delicious local Italian sausage and shiitake mushrooms and which is now my new favorite soup;
• Braised Chicken Thighs with Olives and Basil, which is so inexpensive you won’t believe it and tastes like it cost a bundle—great for impressing the socks off dinner guests without breaking the budget.

And I haven’t even gotten to the desserts chapter yet. I’m looking forward to Pineapple Carpaccio with Lemon Sorbet and Candied Zest; Ricotta Ice Cream with Honey and Almonds, and maybe a little Cherries Poached in Red Wine with Mascarpone Cream. 

The recipes are healthful, if you can resist the allure of seconds.  However, I am not responsible for your waistline if you use this book.

Go on, feed my addiction. Turn me on to your favorite cookbook!

A few weeks ago I was involved in a serious car wreck when a kid in a truck tried to make it through an intersection and I plowed into him at 50 mph. The seatbelt and airbags saved my life, though my little car gave up the ghost, and I’m grateful to be alive. However, the same technology that saved me also did quite a number on my chest, neck and shoulders, so the past month or so has been a very full program of doctors’ visits, physical therapy and plant medicines.

In the emergency room I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and I knew without a doubt that, at the very least, I was going to be dealing with some bruises and strains. I happened to have a bottle of arnica tablets (Boiron homeopathy) in my purse. So while I waited for the county sheriff’s deputy to finish filling out his paperwork, I took the first of what ended up being many doses of arnica.

For a few days I was too sore to even contemplate applying lotion to my skin, but eventually the worst of the bruising subsided and I started slathering on the arnica, capsaicin and ginger ointments. I ended up taking a muscle relaxer every night because it was the only way I could sleep. I was happy for that particular pharmaceutical at that particular time, but I hate taking stuff that makes me sleepy in the morning, so as soon as possible, I switched to my favorite Deep Sleep herbal tincture. I’m now taking Devil’s Claw for inflammation, and a handful of essential fatty acid capsules and Vitamin D3 to help with healing.

I’ve had ultrasound, trigger-point therapy and massage. I’m still worried by some stiffness in my neck, but I am so completely grateful for the multiple approaches that have supported my body in getting itself back on track. For the first few weeks after the wreck, I was frightened I would never feel better or even completely well again. But for the past several days I actually haven’t felt like I got hit by a truck, so I think I’m on the Royal Road to Recovery.

If anyone has other suggestions for dealing with the long-term effects of a trauma like this, I’d love to hear from you. (No legal advice, please. I actually have that covered.)

Not often in this life do we get to experience perfection—and to know at the time that we are. Recently, I had an absolutely, unabashedly, undeniably perfect evening, complete with family, friends, fabulous food, good wine and an impeccable setting. The menu, I’m pleased to report, featured herbs in every dish (if we include the dessert’s blueberries and lemon on our list of herbs—and I’m certainly going to).

The occasion was that I vacationed in Santa Fe, New Mexico, met my cousin and her husband there, and joined friends who live in Santa Fe for a delightful dinner al fresco in the clear mountain air. My friend Paige and I huddled briefly early in the day to “plan” a menu, and off we went to the market to score some groceries.  This careful planning process took about five minutes and went something like:

“Do you think chicken or salmon?”

 “Salmon.”

“Do you think salad or soup?”

“Salad.”

“I think I’ll make soup, too.”

“OK.”

Then we galloped back to the house and started slinging food around the kitchen in a whirlwind of cooking that became:

• Chilled Cucumber Soup
• Orange-Fennel Salad with Walnuts
• Grilled Salmon in a marinade of vodka, lime and dill
• Mango Salsa
• Crusty bread (bakery-bought) with olive oil

Paige’s brother and sister-in-law joined the party and contributed one of the best desserts I’ve had: Lemon Curd Mousse with Blueberries and Toasted Coconut. Lordy.

You’ll find the mousse recipe here and if you were to ask me I’d make up something that sounded like a recipe for the other dishes. But really, it was just one of those highly experimental, hmm-this-ought-to-taste-good-with-this kitchen adventures, easily recognizable to anyone who’s spent a few years playing around in a  kitchen.

What it also turned out to be was heavenly.

We ate on the rooftop patio of Paige and Neil’s beautiful home, surrounded by the majesty of the Sangre de Cristo mountains in full, cloud-rimmed, midsummer glory. Rain had fallen all day, but cleared off an hour or so before dinner, settling any dust and giving the landscape, awash now in the colors of a mountain sunset, that crisp palette that would look fake on an artist’s canvas.

The wine flowed, the food worked, conversation bubbled, strangers felt welcomed, old friends remembered why they loved each other so much and by the time that splendid dessert appeared, everyone there would agree that it was One of Those Nights. 

An evening over which I will never get—nor will I want to.