Recipes: Chervil, Chive, and Tarragon Salsa Verde; Mint, Basil, and Thyme Salsa Verde
My apartment building has two decent-size round pots on its stoop, on either side of the entrance. Except for one I-wouldn’t-harm-a-weed neighbor, I’m the only person in the building interested in planting anything in them. The weed lady, if given the opportunity, will fill the pots with anything from a vacant lot or the wild that catches her eye, and such a plant is likely to quickly take over. Every year I race to get my herbs and spring flowers started before she can fill the pots, and luckily for me, she’s always happy to see my chives, tarragon, and rosemary shoot up. Fancy herbs need homes, too.
I’m just starting my planting now. I’ve fished out all the cigarette butts and more repulsive city detritus, worked over the soil, and added new dirt. It’s dark and moist. So far I’ve put in flat-leaf parsley, regular basil, rosemary, thyme, sage, chives, and tarragon. I’ve also got seeds for tiny, spiky arugula starting in one of my window pots. I treat it like an herb. It comes up strong for three or four weeks and then poops out, so when it emerges I use it all, in a pesto or a salad.
At the moment my favorite herbs are marjoram, Thai basil, and wild fennel, none of which I can yet find at my Greenmarket. I planted them last year and was excited to see the fennel and Thai basil do well for much of the summer. I was saddened by the marjoram. It fizzled out after about a week. I love that herb so much. I replaced it with Greek oregano, but I hardly ever used that, finding it too harsh. Luckily I don’t see it coming back up, at least not yet (but it’s a tough little soul and may show its dark leaves any day now). Eventually I’ll locate some fennel and Thai basil and add them to my group. And I’ll try marjoram again. I really hope it has a better summer than last.
Every spring I start chopping and grinding herbs. I’m big on unusual pestos and improvised salsa verdes. The aromas and the knife work are exciting and soothing. Salsa verde is best when the herbs are chopped by hand. A pesto needs a more emulsified texture, so a food processor, or, if you’re into it, a mortar and pestle, is better for those.
Mixing these herbs and letting their oils flow together is for me surprisingly more like chemistry than cooking. Even though I think I know what these combos should taste like, they almost never quite do. The whole is often greater than the sum of the parts, and unexpected. But it can work the other way. Tarragon and basil, two gently anisy-tasting herbs, taste soapy to me when ground together, but basil mixed with parsley is sweetly grassy with just an undertone of anise. Last week when I wanted a good salsa verde for grilled squid and octopus, I thought to put mint, basil, and thyme together. I hesitated at first, worrying that the thyme would dominate too forcefully, but I went ahead and was surprised by its rich yet not jarring perfume. Coincidently, I learned recently when reading Vegetable Literacy, by Deborah Madison, that these three herbs are botanically related. I’m not sure what that has to do with the fact that they tasted good together. Anise and caraway, both members of the umbelliferae family, taste terrible together.
All my herb condimenti are olive oil based. I prefer to use a mellower oil for them, such as one from Liguria or Puglia. I find that the bite of Tuscan oils can interfere with the herbs’ freshness, and can turn a salsa bitter.
Here are two good herb combos to get you started. Each makes about ¾ of a cup, enough to serve 4 as a condiment.
Chervil, Chive, and Tarragon Salsa Verde
A big handful of chervil
A dozen large tarragon sprigs, stemmed
About a dozen chives
The grated zest from 1 small lemon, plus a squeeze of its juice
A few drops of vanilla extract
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Black pepper
With a good chef’s knife or a mezzaluna, chop all the herbs well. You’ll want them to look like little flecks. Put them in a small bowl. Add the lemon zest and vanilla. Add enough olive oil to achieve a spoonable but not too thick consistency. Season with salt, black pepper, and a little lemon juice. Let sit for about ½ hour to develop good flavor, but try to serve on the day it’s made.
Try it on blanched asparagus, carrots, or leeks, on poached fish, spooned over scrambled eggs, or tossed with farfalle.
Mint, Basil, and Thyme Salsa Verde
About 20 medium basil leaves
About 10 medium spearmint leaves
5 large sprigs thyme, the leaves stemmed
1 spring garlic clove, peeled
A palmful of small, salt-packed capers, soaked, rinsed, and dried
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
A few drops of champagne vinegar.
Chop all the herbs until you have a pile of little flecks. Smash the garlic with the side of your knife, and mince it. Roughly chop the capers. Put it all in a small bowl. Add enough oil to get a thick but drizzly consistency. Season with salt and a few drops of champagne vinegar, and give it a good mix. Let sit for about ½ hour, and try to use it the day you make it.
I like this one on grilled fish or chicken. It’s also nice stirred into a spring minestrone or drizzled over grilled peppers or eggplant.
Beauty stoop pot! Can’t wait for more recipes.
Dorne, YOu’ll see them soon enough. Gonna be cold tonight. HOpe they’ll make it through.
My favorite ingredient in a salsa verde was french sorrel, which has a really nice citrusy taste. We had some planted some in a corporate garden when Elly was working for a publisher on the Boston North Shore…and it grew back for several years even after she left! No more (we’re talking 20 years or so.) I usually throw in some cornichons as well as capers in my salsa. (off topic…the spell check thought “cornichons” should have been “unicorns”!)
George, I love sorrel too, both raw and simmered in a sauce finished with a little cream. I always thought it might make a nice wrapper for a fish fillet, something I’d then bake. I’m thinking it might melt onto the fish and season it in a very good way. And them maybe top with a sorrel sauce. Overkill? I’ve yet to try it.
Wish I’d gotten to our two planters downstairs before they put the damn impatiens in!
Liza, Impatiens, once they’re in, they’re in for the long haul. Try slipping a few herbs in around the flowers.