THE HERBERY

HANDLED WITH CARE, THIS FRAGRANT, LEMONY LEAF WILL ADD ZING TO DISHES AND IS ONE OF THE FEW GARDEN HERBS THAT WILL SEE YOU THROUGH WINTER

I have rarely been ordered for in a restaurant but it happened once near Siena as I sat, awkward and bamboozled by the menu and a group of new colleagues all chatting in Italian. “You must have the sage gnocchi,” said one of my companions, turning to the waiter and taking the decision out of my hands, and I nodded politely and tried not to wrinkle my nose. I associated sage with stuffing, a dusty, musty flavour that I couldn’t imagine elevating to a main ingredient. But then it arrived, the buttery sauce made lemony, robust and fragrant, the hint of bitterness that sage brings offsetting the pillowy blandness of the gnocchi, all topped with parmesan, cracked pepper and the frazzled sage leaves. It was gorgeous, the very definition of “more than the sum of its parts”.

I still find sage a very serious herb, and its camphorous dustiness can be forefront and overwhelming in the wrong company, but paired with the right things – pork, apple, winter squash – it has a brooding richness. It even brings a grown-up wintry complexity to sweet dishes, when infused with a light hand.

Sage is one of the few garden herbs that will see you through winter. It’s one of the woody herbs, though more ever-grey than evergreen, its silvery leaves having evolved to deflect summer sun in spots much hotter than here. But even in my soggy back garden on clay (with a little grit mixed in at planting time), sage is dependable and will provide all winter long.