This is the secret of my various delectable lemon chicken recipes: a large bunch of very fragrant thyme, and an equally giant bunch of summer savoury, tied together by one of their long stems to make it easy to haul them out before serving.
Add a very fresh, extremely large, juicy, sun-ripened lemon, either stuffed up the chook's bum for roasting or the juice added to the sauce, plus fresh garlic, which is far sweeter when freshly picked and less acrid, and you have a meal no one can duplicate unless they have a herb garden and a lemon tree.
I didn't realise what a difference more sunlight, less travel and refrigeration meant till I tried to make a tomato and basil sauce in England. Here in mid-summer it's a treat on anything from pasta to fresh crusty sour dough bread. The kindest word for the mess I made with supermarket herbs and veg was 'anaemic '.
The "fresh" basil you buy tastes nothing like home grown basil. Flavours evaporate as soon as herbs, fruit and veg are picked. They diminish even more if frozen or refrigerated.
A supermarket carrot is just a carrot, useful for bribing wombats. A home grown carrot washed under the tap is gourmet's feast. What's the secret to my bunches of carrot sticks, tied up with a chive leaf? Just sunlight, and being fresh from the ground. No honey, not butter, no cumin. I just boil 'em.
So what are the essentials for anyone who fancies themselves as a gourmet cook?
Basil loses its fragrance fast, as does thyme, but different cultivars also have different tastes and scents. Sniff before you buy, and don't hesitate to look elsewhere in the fragrance doesn't overwhelm you. Many thyme plants look lush, but have little perfume.
This softness makes it easier to eat the leaves, but at the expense of flavour. Tougher-leaved thyme varieties and cultivars are almost always more fragrant, which is why I bundle them up, then remove them before serving.
French tarragon is another gourmet herb that doesn't travel well, nor sadly does it last long in the garden. Give it sun, and space, and you may keep yours for five years or so if the snails don't get it first.
Try a sauce of two-thirds freshly squeezed grape juice, one-third cream and a bunch of fresh tarragon, simmered for 20 minutes, on pasta, baked potatoes, a microwaved whole cauliflower or a hunk of chicken, and you have utter luxury.
Winter savoury is essential to grow, as it is difficult to buy. It adds a richer flavour than thyme. Few people recognise the flavour, but all adore the result. Sage, saffron, bay leaves, mint, peppermint and rosemary store well, as do most spices. By 'well' I mean 'up to a year'- the contents of the jar in the back of your larder probably taste like powdered cardboard.
But for other herbs: sniff before you buy; grow in full sunlight for the best flavour, preferably by a stone or brick wall or in a rockery or patio pot, and don't overwater or they'll be lush but less fragrant. You'll also find you use herbs more often if they are ready to be picked just outside the door, as long as it's sunny.
As for veg: it's clichéd but true that your home-grown tomato will taste magnificent, as long as you don't go for a variety bred to travel as well as a golf ball and with the same texture and flavour. The humble home-grown carrot will have so much carotene a small amount will turn tomato soup orange. It will be equally emphatic in flavour. In fact the most humble veg are the ones that really do taste better home-grown: onions, parsnips, Japanese turnips, potatoes, and garlic, all of which are not just sweeter but have a greater depth of flavour and better texture when freshly picked.
As for fruit: I have never found an edible supermarket apricot. They are fat, flavourless and floury. A truly ripe apricot bruises when you pick it, and drips juice down your chin, so you forget about picking a bucketful and perch on a branch and guzzle.
This week I am:
- Delighting in spring's ripe mulberries, loquats, native raspberries, asparagus and creamy avocados, all with a fabulous flavour and texture we have missed over the last two cloudy and wet springs;
- Watching a swamp wallaby eating only the buds of the dandelions, every dahlia bud and every rosebud if can reach: swampies are the gourmets of the animal world;
- Noting that both the rufous whistler's arrival from the north and the flowers on the black wattle (Acacia mearnsii) are 10 days earlier this year than ever before. I've been watching my world here slowly warm for fifty years;
- Wondering if it's worthwhile wasting water on lettuces this hot summer, when I could grow more heat loving tomatoes instead;
- Picking pale blue, dark purple and white iris as well as red or purple bottlebrush blooms;
- Still munching the tender purple leaves of what I thought was purple kale till it presented me with a large purple cauliflower.
