The Quiet Art of Potting Summer Herbs in Salt

August has a particular kind of generosity to it. The herb beds are sprawling and abundant — more than any one kitchen can use before the first coolness arrives — and I have always believed it a small sin to let that richness go to waste. For more years than I care to count, I have spent the middle weeks of this month at my wooden worktop, layering fresh herbs with coarse sea salt, and putting summer quietly to bed in the pantry.

The method itself is beautifully simple, which is perhaps why it has survived so long. You take your chosen herbs — rosemary, thyme, marjoram, sage and flat-leaf parsley are my own favourites — and strip the leaves from their stems whilst they are perfectly dry, ideally gathered on a warm morning after the dew has lifted. Into a clean glass jar they go, in layers with coarse sea salt, roughly a tablespoon of salt to every handful of herbs. No heat, no fuss. Just patience and a well-fitting lid.

The salt draws out the moisture and the fragrance both, and what you are left with by September is something quite extraordinary — herb-scented salt that carries the very breath of a summer garden. Use it as you would ordinary salt, but with awareness that it is something finer. A pinch into a winter stew, a little rubbed into a chicken before roasting — it lifts a dish in a way that no dried herb from a dusty supermarket shelf ever quite manages.

Do be mindful to use a salt without iodine added, as iodised salts can discolour the herbs and muddy their flavour. I prefer a plain sea salt with a generous grain — something that you can feel between your fingers when you work it. The whole business takes perhaps twenty minutes, and yet it provides comfort deep into the cold months ahead. There is something deeply satisfying in that small exchange.

If you have never tried this before, I do hope you will set aside an afternoon this week whilst the herbs are still at their best. You need not follow any recipe precisely — this is the sort of preserving that rewards instinct and attention more than exactness. Trust your nose, be generous with your harvest, and label your jars clearly before you slide them onto the pantry shelf. Then stand back, and feel quietly pleased with yourself. August deserves to be remembered.