I am fortunate enough to be able to grow a lot of the herbs I use to cook and eat. But you know, sometimes I can’t. Or I just don’t feel like it. And off I go to buy fresh herbs from my local farmer’s market or from the French Broad Food Co-op. (Click here to learn more about food co-ops and find one near you.)
So I get a big, beautiful bunch of parsley/cilantro/dill/etc., and it’s almost always more than I need, unless I’m making a vat of salsa or keg’s worth of tabbouleh. (Note to self: Share my tabbouleh recipe in the next newsletter.)
Yes, yes, yes…I know I can blanch the herbs, stick ‘em in a little oil, and freeze the results in an ice cube tray so I have cute little blocks of seasoning ready for future use, blahblahblah.
But what I really want is for my herbs to stay perky longer so I can use them fresh, not frozen, and not all at once. I used to trim the ends off the herbs and stick them in a bit of fresh water, but within a day or three, herbs that had just been yanked out of the ground in my backyard or within a 20-mile radius of my kitchen started looking droopy and sad.
But there is a solution. And what’s even better is that it’s an easy one. Here we go:
INGREDIENTS:
Herbs
Jar/vase/glass/vessel of your choice
Water
Plastic bag
DIRECTIONS:
Grab the herbs, and remove any rubberband-twistie-tie-string-restrictive-type thingy from the bunch. Let them spread their stems and relax.
Trim a little off the ends of the stems.
Take your chosen container. I use an old mason jar, but I live in Southern Appalachia so I am legally obligated to use an old mason jar for everything from drinking coffee to storing half-dead AA batteries.
Fill said container with water—not too hot, not too icy-cold. Get all Goldilocks about it.
Stick your herbs in the water. (Stems first. You knew that, right?) Try to keep any leaves out of the water. Think of it like arranging flowers. You don’t want the petals to be submerged.
Take your plastic bag. This is a good use for an old Ziploc bag, especially if you hoard those sorts of things because you can’t see a reason for throwing them away after you’ve only used them once and you can never get the smell out of them even when you wash them in the dishwasher (which feels like a stupid use of water anyway) and after all you kind of wish you hadn’t bought the Ziploc bags in the first place because you feel as though by this point in your life you should be able to think of something to contain your snacks or leftovers or granola or sandwiches in besides a pre-packaged, re-sealable plastic bag.
I use an old Ziploc bag, but hey: You do you.
Gently and loosely place the bag over the top of the herbs and leave it open. You want to let the herbs breathe a little. Imagine you were putting a plastic bag over your own head. You would want some breathing room, right? (Please don’t do that.)
Place the jarred and bagged herb in your refrigerator. Like so:
Seriously. I have had cilantro, parsley, and dill last more than two weeks in the fridge like this. And don’t even get me started on how chubby and turgid* my scallions are.
You’re welcome.
* Turgid,in biology, refers to a cell that it bursting at its organic seams with water. It is the opposite of flaccid. It can also mean, according to our friends over at the always exacting OED: “figurative in reference to language: Inflated, grandiloquent, pompous, bombastic.” So, was my use of “turgid” to describe my scallions an example of “turgid prose”? Discuss.
