The appeal of herbs is that they look good, smell and taste great, can make you feel better, and need so little care

Last summer, my family revelled in a bounteous first harvest from our kitchen garden in west Oxfordshire. However, my husband, Gerard, recently reminded me that he and I had a fundamental conflict of interest. As a cook, he naturally prefers to use fresh, tender produce and insists on wrenching crops from the soil while at their youngest and sweetest – still barely out of nappies in human terms. On the other hand, as a gardener, I am bent on bringing my young plants to maturity. This resulted several times in my squealing “no” as he hauled yet another batch of defenceless baby leeks out of the ground. 

Nowhere was this conflict more apparent than in the herb garden. Sited just inside the gate, this small haven is the first thing you see when you shut the car door. Often considered weeds in their natural habitat, most herbs need very little looking after, and many are perennial, giving you a great return on your initial investment of time and money. They look good, smell and/or taste wonderful and can often be planted and forgotten about. It’s no wonder this group of plants is practically recession-proof. 

I laid out the herb garden two years ago in a formal symmetrical design, with two large squares quartered by narrow paths to form eight triangular beds. There’s a standard bay tree in the centre of each square and box balls define the corners of the beds. These were planted with a range of taller herbs in the middle – bushy lavenders and clumps of green and purple sage – and edged with contrasting creeping thymes, which spill artfully onto the gravel paths. 

My original intention had a practical purpose, if rather idealised. I imagined being able to enjoy looking at and sitting among the herbs – it really is breathtakingly pretty in summer – the whole family sharing the idyll with sated bumblebees and flitting butterflies, while my husband snipped a few stems of aromatic thyme, sage or rosemary for the pot.

Although I made the herb garden largely to please my husband, I had somehow blanked from the perfect picture in my mind how he uses them. Not for him fiddling about with pinches of this and that. He cooks with gusto, surrounded by enormous bunches of fresh herbs, throwing handfuls of parsley – it has to be the flat-leaf variety – into the pan. Clearly our lovely herb garden wasn’t up to the job. Left to his own devices, it would quickly be stripped back to the box balls. I know, I ought to concede, because herbs are useful plants. Many are invaluable culinary ingredients, others are cultivated for their medicinal properties, but I confess to wincing every time a bald patch appears and spoils the scene. 

In the interest of marital harmony, my husband has come up with a solution. We’ve added another couple of smaller raised beds to the main kitchen garden and dedicated them solely to herbs, grown in a businesslike fashion, specifically for the plate. Here, I’ve promised not to raise an eyebrow when he attacks the rows of parsley, basil, chervil, coriander and thyme that are the mainstays of his culinary repertoire. In return, the ornamental herb garden will continue to be used for occasional pickings, but I also plan to investigate more unusual plants in this part of the garden, and other ways to use them. 

Jekka McVicar, the doyenne of herb cultivation, is my “phone a friend” when it comes to suggesting something out of the ordinary. Without hesitation, she says: “Bergamot [or monarda]. Most people don’t realise it’s a herb, but it’s a member of the mint family. It’s stunning when in flower – each one like a flamboyant wedding hat – and they’re edible. The leaves, which taste like posh earl grey, make one of the best cuppas, though I also use them in fish and chicken dishes.” 

McVicar is also a huge fan of hyssop (Hyssopus officinalis). “I cannot understand why people don’t use it. It looks fantastic in any garden with a sunny aspect, and has deep blue flowers, which are brilliant for attracting bees to improve pollination in the vegetable garden – blue is the colour bees go to first. The leaves taste wonderful, with a bitter minty thyme flavour that works well in tomato dishes and vinaigrettes.” 

In common with many herbs, hyssop has medicinal as well as culinary uses. As McVicar says, any herb with officinalis in the name is medicinal, and this is an area that is currently creating a buzz. Growing herbs to improve health and wellbeing is all the rage. James Wong, the botanist presenter of Grow Your Own Drugs, which was recently aired on BBC2, is a keen exponent of what herbs can do for you. I asked him to recommend his three must-haves. 

“At the top of the list is lavender, which, both as an edible and a medicinal plant, has a list of uses as long as your arm, and a lot of that is backed up by science,” he says. “It’s antifungal, antibacterial, antiviral, and it contains chemicals that have been suggested may reduce anxiety.” Wong and I also share a love of thyme. “It is easy to grow and contains a chemical called thymol, which is used in modern dentistry. This powerful antibacterial substance is used to make mouthwash and treat cuts and scrapes. It’s also a food preservative because it cuts down on bacterial growth. Thymus vulgaris is the one to grow for medicinal purposes because it has the highest concentration of thymol.” 

As for mints, I always confine mine to pots because of their propensity for invasive expansion. Wong values these thuggish tendencies. “I would also choose mint because it takes over your garden, so you’re forced to cut it back and actually use it. It smells great, and peppermint oil improves digestion and is used commercially to treat irritable bowel syndrome.” 

However, it’s important to be cautious when self-medicating. McVicar points out that one should always use separate equipment – including electric food processors – that are dedicated solely to preparing plant material that could be toxic if you are pregnant or already taking medicines, in order to remove the possibility of contaminating food. It’s also common sense to get more information before giving them to children. “Most modern medicines are plant-derived, so herbs can be extremely powerful,” says McVicar. 

Wong is also keen to stress the common-sense element. “A lot of people have misconceptions about herbal medicine. They think either it doesn’t work at all or it’s very dangerous. As with commercial drugs, they should be treated with respect but not suspicion – after all, if you take too many aspirin you’ll be in trouble.” 

I am lucky to have the space to try a wide range of herbs. But this hasn’t always been the case. My herb-growing experiences go back many years, and I’ve cultivated them in pots, window boxes and on rooftops, in semi-shade and full sun. The key is choosing the right ones for your own growing conditions. While you’ll struggle to grow them in deeply shaded sites, don’t assume that an open, south-facing position is a prerequisite for success. It’s true that Mediterranean herbs, including thyme, rosemary, hyssop and lavenders, do need to bask in sunshine in open, gritty soil, but others with larger, softer foliage, such as chervil, parsley, lemon balm and red orach, actually appreciate varying degrees of shade. 

If space is at a premium, don’t feel you have to confine herbs to a dedicated area. Many, including tall, airy fennel and mound-forming variegated sage, are so beautiful that they will look quite at home in an ornamental planting scheme. Some, such as bay and box, are already highly valued as decorative plants and, aside from an annual clipping, are undemanding, low-maintenance plants. Rosemary and lavender are ideal candidates for a sunny spot next to a bench, where you can brush your hand against the aromatic foliage to release their unmistakable fragrances. Curled-leaf parsley can be grown as a vibrant emerald-green edging plant for the front of a border, while slender leaves, pretty flowers and a neat growth habit make chives a welcome addition to the flowerbed or rockery. 

Many herbs are easily grown from seed, so I’ll be spending much of this weekend sowing contentedly in the greenhouse. However, it’s also a good time to visit a nursery or garden centre, where I may not be able to resist buying a few pots of thyme to get the new raised beds off to a good start. With family harmony restored, we’ll tuck in to spring lamb at lunchtime – cooked with home-grown rosemary, accompanied by our own mint sauce, and followed by a pot of herbal tea to aid digestion – and count our many blessings.