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.

From the Baby-Out-With-the-Bathwater Department, this just in: States and local governments are rushing to outlaw salvia because of its hallucinogenic properties!

Goodbye sage dressing, goodbye pretty sages in the flower garden, goodbye … What? They’re only banning one sage species? One exceedingly uncommon species, Salvia divinorum, also known as “diviner’s sage” or “sage of the seers”? One persnickety, hard to cultivate little salvia species that likes low light, high humidity and a few thousand feet of elevation? Well, why don’t they say so?

(Click here to read more about how to keep your sage plants alive.) 

Photo by cdunx/Courtesy Flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/muncadunc/

Across all media, this story is being reported in terms like, “Salvia: High—and legal!” or “Salvia: A little-known, legal hallucinogen.” Frankly, this worries me. Maybe it’s far-fetched to think these lawmakers could be so pinheaded as to ban “salvia” without making the distinction “divinorum,” but then again, I have come to belive some of our lawmakers are not strangers to pinheaded choices.
 
One of my favorite genuses (genae?) is being tarred with a very broad brush and I would like you to join me in a mission: Every time you see a newspaper article or hear a bit of broadcast news discussing the new societal scourge of salvia, please contact the author or broadcaster (or, better, their bosses and sponsors) and set her or him straight: There are more than 900 salvia species in the world, found on several continents. Humankind has used salvia for hundreds of generations to heal minds and bodies in many different climates and a zillion cultures. Just because a few American kids get it in their heads to smoke one specific, uncommon species doesn’t mean the whole genus represents a threat to health, hearth and home.

(Click here to discover the many sage species.)
 
In fact, just how much a threat Salvia divinorum poses is much to be debated.  It’s been used for centuries by shamans for certain indigenous people in Mexico as an aid in diagnosing sickness and promoting visions. The fact that a handful of U.S. residents got hold of the plant, smoked it, made videos of themselves laughing like hyenas, then posted the videos on YouTube shouldn’t necessarily lead to lawmakers expending a lot of energy legislating a nationwide ban on the stuff.

Photo by swanksalot/Courtesy Flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/swanksalot/ 

But, politics being politics, this seems to be the direction we’re headed, so at the very least, it would behoove those of us who know and appreciate salvia in all its other uses to make sure a distinction is made between divinorum and the whole other world of salvias. Getting busted plucking a few sage leaves for my Thanksgiving turkey isn’t exactly the way I want to spend the holidays, thank you.

And while we’re all getting worked up about this particular little purple flower, we might take into account a large body of research and statistics that show more teens and young people are being injured and dying due to alcohol than all other illicit drugs combined. What are we going to do about that?

Drop me a comment and let me know your opinion over this matter!

How can an herb festival in a town of 26,000 draw a crowd that’s well over 20,000 strong? To know the answer to that question, you’ll have to contact Mary Anne Potter, founder of the event that has been growing since 1993.

The festival is held the first Saturday of June, and is hosted by the Sage, Rosemary and Thyme Garden Club. I was fortunate enough to be in Ponca City, Oklahoma, (about four hours to the south of our offices here in Topeka, Kansas) for the weekend and was happy to visit the festival and meet Mary Anne.

Photo of Mary Anne

The event is held on the grounds of the Cann Memorial Botanical Gardens, a 10-acre historical botanical garden located in Ponca City and donated by Elsie Cann Brown, in honor of her mother, Mary Cann, who loved gardening. I couldn’t help but think, as I walked through the truly lovely, peaceful gardens, that a daughter couldn’t pay a better homage to her mother than this.

Photo by Adam Gault, Oklahoma Today Magazine

The nicely displayed booths were full of plants, potting sheds, quilts, herbal vinegars, soaps, bird houses, (I bought one for a wedding present and now wish I had gotten several more) baskets and more from nearly 100 vendors who came from throughout the region.

I wasn’t able to attend any of the educational seminars that accompany the festival, but they sound enticing and are held in the beautiful, historic Cann home on the garden’s grounds (which the event’s proceeds help support).

I liked so much about this event. First, it made people happy—you could see it on the faces of people stopped at the booths, on the sidewalks, and especially on people schlepping plants and packages back to their cars—and that’s a great thing, especially these days.

I also loved that it is a truly heartfelt celebration of herbs and gardening, maintained year after year by Mary Ann Potter and her energetic cohort in the Sage, Rosemary and Thyme Garden Club. And I loved that it was an event of which the Ponca City community is justifiably proud.

Photo by Adam Gault, Oklahoma Today Magazine

The sense of civic involvement and appreciation was practically palpable there, and I think that’s a factor we often leave out in thinking of such events. It isn’t just about the herbs (although thank-you-thank-you-thank-you for that), it’s about the community and that amazing web of connections that are formed, challenged and (mostly) strengthened by such huge undertakings.

We hope you’ll let the world know about your herb or gardening event through our online calendar, available here (or by checking the homepage www.herbcompanion.com and scrolling down the left side to “Calendar Events” in the “Herb Basics” box).

And if you hear of such an event in your community, let us know. Then be sure to attend. I think you’ll be glad you did.

I finally have taken the plunge: I bought a new bike and have signed up for a 40-mile charity ride in June. I don’t actually think I can do it, given the flaccid state of my muscles right now–it's just six weeks away. But I’m going to give it the Compton try. Since diabetes is rampant on my family tree, the American Diabetes Association’s Tour de Cure is a cause I can embrace enthusiastically.

When I lived in Santa Fe several years ago I rode my bike regularly (100+ miles a week) and was in the best shape of my life. But that was then, this is now. Now, my body is quick to tell me how much things have changed, especially in my right thumb and knee, which would just as soon I found a nice recliner and confined my movement to the occasional shamble to the fridge for a beer.

However, I am made of stronger stuff than that, so I refuse to give in. And besides, I have some important assistance to make those complaining muscles and joints quiet down and line up with my agenda.

My latest favorite assistance is Little Moon Essentials’ “Asana Kisser,” which is a salve that smells like health to me. It's composed of organic ginger and cayenne, wintergreen, camphor, lavender and menthol in a nice sesame-oil and beeswax base, which makes it go on easy and disappear quickly without feeling greasy. It isn’t magic, but it definitely has extraordinary healing power. It makes a huge difference in my ability to lean on handlebars for mile after mile and then to work those nifty little shifters strategically placed for thumb-and-finger operation.

I’m not kidding about this, and it isn’t a paid announcement. If you have joint or muscle pain, as in hands that hurt or joints that are stiff, GIVE IT A SHOT. I don’t know if it would be effective for seriously bad arthritis, but I can tell you that my thumb has given me so much trouble from time to time that I’ve worried I won’t be able to type (and then I immediately fall into doomsday fantasies about what I’d do for a living if I weren’t able to work a keyboard, so actually, it’s been good for my mental health as well, since I no longer have those worries.)

I’m also greatly assisted by regular visits to my friendly neighborhood practitioner of Zen Bodytherapy, which isn’t massage, but is a “structural realignment,” and sometimes feels like it sounds. But it works to loosen up the connective tissue that literally has my body in a bind.

With the combo of body therapy and Asana Kissers, I’m good to go.

Some of my other favorites for dealing with aches and pains are not necessarily new to me, but they are dependable and effective stalwarts: Boiron’s arnica gel, available at natural health stores, Nature’s Inventory Back Soothe and Neck & Shoulder Rub and HealthSonix’s ZingiberRx Joint and Muscle Cream. Again, they might not be magic, but as far as I’m concerned, they might as well be.

And let me repeat my mantra, just in case Constant Reader has forgotten: You don’t have to be stuck with stuff. Just because you have some body aches and pains or other medical problems, you don’t have to get stuck with them. For most of our common maladies, there are ways out, and often they involve a combination of body work, massage, diet, supplements and some of the absolutely great herbal products that are available now.

I could just go on and on …

I have to admit it: I’m full of beans when it comes to gardening. I swore that this year, no really, I was only going to grow a few herbs in pots. No time for a real garden. No energy for a real garden. No interest in a real garden. No sirreebob.

And then, the seed catalogs came. It only took two—living proof of how easily swayed I can be. The Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Company and Kitazawa Seed Company’s catalogs came my way and soon, I was a goner.

From Baker Creek, I ordered Atomic Red and Lunar White carrots, plus a couple of varieties of parsnips. From Kitazawa, too many items to mention, all in the turnip, radish and melon families. My neighbor Nancy and I are sharing a garden space, and she had purchased lots of radishes, too. So we may be buried in radishes very soon, and I have no idea how to preserve any of them. Does anyone out there have any radish-keeping tricks to share? 

Left to right: Atomic Red carrots, Lunar White carrots ( www.rareseeds.com )

Now, I’ve gotten all fascinated by the straw-bale garden mentioned on the Nichols Garden Nursery site and am considering what else I might plant there. Beans, I think, which can twine around on the fence, and also peas. Both Baker Creek and Kitazawa have some great-looking greens, and I’m fairly sure they’ll grow in a straw-bale garden. Maybe some cherry tomatoes and basil (all I need now is a garden that can grow buffalo mozzarella and my summer diet is set!)

And of course, there are still all those containers waiting for herbs.

I have become incorrigible.