Over the past few years, my husband and I have been trying to fill in some holes in the landscaping of our front yard. During the bad winters of 21 and 22 several very, very, very large bushes died, leaving a bare area of more than 20 feed wide and about 12 feet deep in front of the dining room window.
We didn't want to refill the area with more non-native, water guzzling landscaping bushes, and have instead been trying to find shrubs and perennial plants that fit our very restrictive list:
Native or easy to naturalize, but without the risk of becoming invasiveEarly flowerbud on my surviving lavender - Low water or true xeriscape
- Good for pollinators
- Edible or medicinal (or both!)
- Grows densely enough that I don't have to weed
So far we have a large mat of native-to-the-southwest blanket flower (Gaillardia) surrounding the ginkgo tree (which fortunately survived), an English lavender shrub that was supposed to be 6 plants but only one survived, a seedling Feijoa (Acca sellowiana) which I believed had died twice but came back stronger each time, and a native-hybrid "hot lips" sagebush (salvia microphylla) which seems to be trying so hard to die and I just won't let it. There were supposed to be 3 different sages with 3 different flavor profiles, but this is the only one which has (so far) survived.
Given all the plant deaths, what has survived covers barely 1/10th of the available space. But on the plus side, the weeds that have popped up in the remaining area are all edible. The crown jewel of wild plants in the space must be the very large black nightshade, Solanum nigrum, which produces an insane amount of fruit, but must be cut back repeatedly or it will fully engulf the salvia. Also popping up are wild lettuce, Asiatic dayflower, purslane, and some other nightshades I can't quite identify yet, but I think might be groundcherries (Physalis).
An ancient understanding of herbs
There is a historical tradition in many parts of Italy, that when it comes to curing meats, like capicola, you want to season the meat using the same herbs plants that the pig itself has been eating. So while a generic capicola curing packet might contain thyme, juniper and fennel, the small, local batches that have been done the same way for centuries will use ONLY fennel from the region, only thyme from the hillsides where the animals roam, and only the local juniper berries that fall and are gobbled up by the pigs.
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Horseweed & lavender, I actually added a bit more than this |
Why do I bring this up?
Well, this is what inspired me to make this recipe. You see, I saw the horseweed growing so abundantly in and around the lavender that I couldn't help but wonder if the two would taste good together. And the combination is WONDERFUL!
Savory shortbread recipes have been trending for a while. Or maybe they are past trending, I tend to only become aware of trends by the time they have largely ceased to be trends any longer. But regardless, they often contain thyme and rosemary. I do like thyme in small amounts, but I really don't care for rosemary. So I was excited to try the idea of the recipe with other herbs I enjoy.
Savory horseweed, lavender and parmesan shortbread recipe
Makes 25-30 shortbreads, depending on size. Can be doubled or tripled.
- 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 8 tbs / 4 oz / 1 stick of butter (I used grass-fed European butter)
- 4 oz parmesan cheese, grated*
- 1/2 cup finely chopped, freshly picked horseweed and lavender, about 3/4 cup un-chopped
- 2 medium navel oranges, juice and zest
- Pinch of kosher salt (omit if using salted butter)
*Don't buy pre-grated cheese here, it's worth it to grate your own--and very easy to do in a food processor. Pre-grated parmesan has cellulous added to keep it from sticking together, and that will really mess with the subtle flavors here.
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Images a bit out of order, from left to right: The butter softened and whipped, the finely chopped herbs, and the zested orange. All of this was done in the food processor. |