Every year, my little garden yields something new.
Last year, at my congregation's annual Gardenfest, I purchased some lavender. There wasn't really any particular plan behind that purchase, other than that I saw some lavender and thought to myself, "Ooh. That sounds nice to have."
I brought it home, where I replanted it in a large pot smack in the middle of my mint patch. I'd received some donated mint many years ago, and it quickly did what mint does. What had been a drab patch of elephant grass soon was eighty percent mint, and this was fine. I made some potent juleps for a while, which were delicious and heady and oh so Southern, but also perhaps not the best habit to get into on the regular.
What might I do instead? I thought on it for a while, and came up with the idea of drying it for tea. I would dehydrate and save those leaves, and from them would make for myself potfuls of mint tea come winter.
That was the idea, at least. I promptly forgot about it until the mint had wholly died off in the late Fall.
But spring comes again, and as the mint renewed itself to the point of needing aggressive cutting back a month ago, I realized I might have another tea option.
The lavender had done surprisingly well for itself in the thick of the mint, the little purple blossoms popping up all throughout that fierce green sea of leaves. Perhaps I should consider making mint and lavender tea, I thought. That seemed like it might be a thing. I looked it up, and indeed it was.
So one evening recently, as cool air returned following an unseasonable warmth, I stepped off my front porch to inspect that portion of my modest herb garden. Was it brisk enough to justify tea? That night, the answer was yes.
I plucked two lavender blossoms and a much larger handful of fresh mint leaves, which I then crushed using the very technical process of just squishin' 'em with my hands. That fragrant mass made it's way into a finely-wrought metal straining basket, which popped neatly into a glass pot. Water was boiled, and poured into the pot. It steeped for a while, until the liquid within took on a light golden greenish hue.
I poured myself a mugful, and took a tentative sip.
Strongly minty, with a hint of lavender, just as one might expect. It had a satisfyingly fresh brightness to it, so after I finished my first mug, I poured myself another, and sat out on the porch in the crispness of early nightfall and sipped at it for a while.
I have, over the years, grown many things with varying degrees of success. But this was the first time I'd had herbal tea from my own garden. It was delightful.
Every year, it's a new blessing.
Posts
