A Tale About Our Lovage

Many of the plants (and furniture for that matter) that I grew up with and that populate the gardens around the house have stories attached to them. Friends gifted them or traded them with my mother over the last 40 years. The lovage that we eat every year is one of them.

Dorothy and Ernie lived across the road from the farm, where my parents built the workshop, the barn and the house where we now live. They were Swiss, and had come from Switzerland in the 70s. Ernie had orchards and gardens and died when I was young and I don't remember him as much as Dorothy, who we called 'Dorky'. She  had leathery fine wrinkled skin and curly hair in a grey afro around a round face, and deep set eyes. Even though it was so long ago, I still vividly remember her Swiss German accent and her long winded, slow worded stories. We used to make those pressed Swiss cookies called Bratzeli together. 

Ernie smuggled this lovage plant, 50ish years ago, in his Swiss alphorn (the long wooden horns that were traditionally used to communicate in the mountains) when he came from Switzerland, and gave some to my parents when they were planting their gardens.  

In my casual research for this newsletter, I have learned that in Ukraine, lovage is considered an aphrodisiac - and traditionally, women would rinse their hair with a tea made from lovage to attract men with its beautiful scent. 

Generally I just add a leaf (it's strong!) to a salad dressing in spring, or mince it and add it to soups, deviled eggs or potato salad.