10.6.26 | Breaking Basil

Thucka-thucka-thucka of chopper blades whir in the air. The house is surrounded. The closet walls are closing in. Bright lights are beaming through the cracks in the door. The dial on the electrical meter is spinning dizzily. Jellybean is raising hell at the front door. The house reeks of Italian herbs and spices. What have I gotten myself into?

Okay, okay, nothing crazy is going on. Well, nothing illegal anyways. I am starting a winter grow room in a back closet. I have wires, timers, lights, and a 50lb bag of soil. All this for someone who doesn't even have a green thumb. In fact this all started because I decided to grow some basil in the spring. It immediately went to bolt. Died. Resurrected itself. Grew sideways across the lawn and then at what should be the end of its growing season produced beautiful basil leaves that I brought in to work.

The three hearty basil leaves I did grow were excellent. They lasted twice as long as anything I bought in from the grocery store or produce company. Some of my local farms provided me with fresh basil that was excellent, as well, but during the summer season basil is on everything. Between my little basil that could and the farmers, I was blowing through the herb faster than we could grow it. Don't worry, I've got a company specifically for that?

I give ‘em a ring, they sell me some basil. It shows up in a neat little plastic box that I throw directly into the ocean and the basil is brown, wilted, and dead by the end of service. Perfect.

Now I have come up with the grand scheme of bending nature to my will and growing basil out of its natural growing season. I got a taste for the good stuff and now I'm hooked. That's how they get ya! Before you stop me and, one, tell me I have a problem and need to see someone about my fresh herb addiction and two, explain to me that basil doesn't belong on a bunch of fall and winter dishes and that I am wasting my time and electricity and will surely end up with pounds and pounds of basil with nowhere to put it. Look, I know, but I've started this project and now I can't stop.

Jellybean is side-eyeing me as I haul in the soil. Becca is side-eyeing me as she reads the electric bill and asks about the efficiency of LED lights, heat output per return and so on and so forth as I reply. “Just wait till you try my pesto! Then you'll see! You'll alllll see!!”

As of right now, this is just in the early planning stages. I have to get through the next few busy weekends before I can really get this project off the ground. In truth it may just end up being a pile of dirt with some wires and a light bulb in my closet for a year until I realize we have moles living in it and Becca makes me take it outside before I name them and get too attached.

But give me a few weeks and hopefully you'll see such classic fall and winter dishes as braised short ribs...with basil, coq au vin...with basil, apple pie.... 

Okay, maybe it's time to rethink this.

—Chef Matt