Herb of the Month
Remembering Rosemary:
Rosmarinus Officinalis
By Louise Dunlap
Last month was thyme and now it's rosemary,
a close relative with a similar--and possibly even more dramatic--role
in cuisine and healing. Ophelia's painful herb of "remembrance"
is a bush two to four feet high at maturity, with woody stems. Rosemary
is the only member of the Labiatiae (mint) family with leaves
like pine needles. Small white to blue-violet flowers grow near
the ends of branches, and the entire plant has a spicy, pungent
odor, especially when you brush against it. The needle-leaves have
a taste especially prized in mediterranean cooking. There are many
horticultural varieties. In my home state of California, where mediterranean
plants do very well, a vine-like version is used as a groundcover
along sidewalks and even freeways.
The first records of rosemary being used as
a healing agent come from Northern Africa. It is thought that teas
and tinctures of rosemary can help with digestion (by stimulating
enzymes); with colds and flu (by promoting sweating and loosening
phlegm); with infections (by stimulating the immune system); and
with clear thinking, mental energy, and memory.
Rosemary also is said to increase estrogen
and to help with premenstrual depression--as well as with confusion,
sleep loss, dry skin and other problems that can begin when a woman's
estrogen diminishes at menopause. In addition rosemary has helped
with depression that stems from mental or physical overwork or chronic
illness.
A friend of mine recently discovered a deep
personal connection to rosemary, or at least to a particular rosemary
plant. While learning to live more in balance after surgery and
chemotherapy for breast cancer, she found herself drawn to an energetic-looking
clump of this herb in her backyard garden. Picture a huge dark green
mass a full five feet tall shaped like writhing serpents--a little
like the cypress trees painted by Van Gogh in Provence. (This friend
lives in California where, as I said, rosemary really thrives.)
The plant was obviously healthy, its leaves exuding a fragrance
that was almost sharp. Neither of us knew, then, that herbalists
use rosemary for exactly her condition--to strengthen the immune
system, promote tissue repair, stimulate hair growth, and energize
those debilitated by overwork and chronic illness.
Fortunately the holistic practitioners she
was seeing alongside her conventional doctors encouraged her to
pay attention to her intuitions--to use this remarkable rosemary
plant in any way she could. In a spirit of joyous relief, she brought
branches of it into the house, wrote about it, drew and painted
it and--yes--talked to it. She even let me make a favorite rosemary
recipe for her. She will probably not be surprised to learn from
a reprinted university wellness letter that rosemary has just been
found to have special potency in working with breast cancer. In
a recent experiment with laboratory rats at Penn State, a diet of
1% rosemary powder apparently blocked development of breast cancer
cells in 76% of the subjects.
Other schools of health also find rosemary
potent. Flower Essence therapists use rosemary flowers to stimulate
the energy of self-healing when people don't feel secure in their
physical bodies. Aromatherapy practitioners find the fragrant oil
useful for varicose veins, dandruff and hair loss, digestive and
circulatory problems, and aching or sprained joints, including arthritis.
Inhaling the aroma of rosemary oil may also help relieve headaches,
even migraines.
Herbalists say that rosemary is literally heartwarming;
it stimulates circulation and the heart, relieving chills (even
hypothermia), and helping with anemia, low blood pressure, and cardiac
problems. As one medieval author said of rosemary tea, "The
spirits of the heart and the entire body feel joy from this drink,
which dispels all despondency and worry."
Ever since I read in Homer how Greek adventurers
grilled whole muttons over the holy smoke of rosemary wood growing
beside the sea, I have wanted to incorporate this herb in my cooking.
In my carnivorous days, I roasted large quantities of it with lamb
and chicken, especially combining it with garlic. Now I use the
same combination sauteed in plenty of olive oil to flavor a simple
tomato sauce for pasta and to substitute for butter on grilled garlic
bread.
My favorite dish--the one I made for my California
friend--is a very simple main course feast of aromatic roasted vegetables.
In a large shallow casserole or roasting pan, I crush several garlic
cloves and chop a handful of fresh rosemary into a few tablespoons
of olive oil. Usually I also add fresh chopped sage. (Both herbs
can be bitter if you use them too heavily, but at the same time
you need enough for a hearty taste.) I fill the casserole with root
vegetables like turnips, onions, carrots, potatoes or even beets,
cut into inch-wide cubes (unless I'm in a big hurry and need shorter
cooking time, in which case I cut them as small as a half-inch).
Unpeeled winter squash is also a good choice, and I often cut up
some more delicate vegetables like red peppers, green beans, or
mushrooms to add partway through the cooking.
Toss and mix the contents of the casserole,
coating every chunk with a mixture of oil and herbs. Roast in the
oven at 350 to 400 degrees for 45 minutes or until the vegetables
seem done when tested with a fork. You can cover the casserole or
not, as you like, but you need to toss the vegetables occasionally
and leave the lid off for ten minutes or so near the end to allow
a delicious, sizzly crust to develop. This dish fills your home
with a warmth and aroma that itself feels healing.
If you are growing rosemary outdoors, it probably
won't outlast the New England winter without special measures, so
here are three suggestions. You can say goodbye to the plant, thank
it, and harvest all its branches (hanging them to dry for winter
vegetable roasts and teas). Or you can try mulching it with a blanket
of dry leaves at least a foot thick and held in place against winter
winds with a network of sticks or branches. A third alternative
is to dig up the plant and put it in a pot to keep inside on a sunny
windowsill. (You need to do this while it is still unweakened by
frost.) This way you'll have the aroma--and a few fresh branches
for cooking--all winter long.
| Any medicinal descriptions are given for information only.
Refer to an herbal medicine book or an herbalist for dosages.
The reader is solely responsible for the results of using
herbal remedies. |
Louise Dunlap teaches yoga and writing,
and is working on a book called Writing for Social Change.
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