Preamble
There is something almost embarrassingly satisfying about walking out my back door, scissors in hand, and cutting herbs I grew myself. Not the sad, wilted plastic-wrapped kind. Not the ones that go limp in the crisper drawer three days after you buy them. Mine. Lush, green in six different shades, so fragrant you can smell the basil before you even touch it.
No black thumb here — not this year, anyway. (More on that another time.)
This week’s Gathering is all about what happens when herbs actually work — and then keep working, and working, until you’re standing on your deck wondering what on earth to do with all of it. A good problem to have. Let’s get into it.
Farm Stand Report
You can tell the season is turning. The farm itself looks a little tired — fewer plants left for purchase, the summer rush winding down — and the stand is already getting ready for early fall, with chrysanthemums starting to arrive. Inside the general store, there were still a few weighty Jersey beefsteak tomatoes to be found, but the shelves have mostly shifted over to pickled vegetables, preserves, relishes, and chutneys — all put up from the abundant harvest just a few weeks ago, as if inviting us to carry summer with us into the next season.
Speaking of gardens: my own beefsteaks are still playing hard to get. More on that next time.
The Weekend Menu
Friday
Herb Garden Gin & Tonic
Baked Ricotta & Herb Crostini
Whipped Feta with Dill & Chives
Grilled Rosemary-Lemon Chicken Skewers — cubed chicken breast, olive oil/lemon/garlic/minced rosemary marinade, soaked wood skewers with whole rosemary sprigs tucked in
Saturday
Herb-Marinated Warm Olives & Goat Cheese
Grilled Swordfish with Mint-Parsley Chimichurri
Lemon-Herb Orzo with Butter & Chives
Charred Corn Salad with Lime & Herbs
Sunday
Savory Herb & Ricotta Cheesecake served with crusty bread and crackers
Marinated Zucchini Ribbons with Mint
Lemon & Lavender Olive Oil Cake
Featured Recipe: Savory Herb & Ricotta Cheesecake
Serves 10–12 as an appetizer • 9-inch springform pan
Ingredients
For the crust:
1½ cups finely crushed crackers (buttery round crackers or water crackers)
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Pinch of salt
For the filling:
16 oz whole-milk ricotta, well-drained
16 oz cream cheese, softened
⅓ cup grated Parmesan
3 large eggs
Zest of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons fresh basil, finely chopped
2 tablespoons fresh chives, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh dill, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh curly parsley, finely chopped
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon black pepper, freshly cracked
To finish:
Drizzle of good olive oil
A few whole herb leaves for garnish
Flaky salt and extra cracked pepper
Directions
Preheat oven to 325°F. Wrap the outside of a 9-inch springform pan in foil (to guard against leaks) and lightly grease the inside.
Combine crushed crackers, melted butter, and a pinch of salt. Press firmly into the bottom of the pan. Bake for 8 minutes, then set aside to cool slightly.
In a large bowl, beat the ricotta and cream cheese together until smooth. Add the Parmesan, eggs, lemon zest, herbs, salt, and pepper. Mix until just combined — don’t overbeat, or the cheesecake can crack.
Pour the filling over the crust and smooth the top.
Bake for 50–60 minutes, until the edges are set and the center still has a slight jiggle. Turn off the oven, crack the door open, and let the cheesecake cool inside for 1 hour.
Remove from the oven and let cool completely to room temperature, then run a knife around the edge and release the springform ring.
Just before serving, drizzle with olive oil, scatter a few whole herb leaves on top, and finish with flaky salt and cracked pepper.
Notes
Can be made a day ahead — cover and refrigerate, then bring to room temperature for about 45 minutes before serving.
Serve with crusty bread and crackers, not crostini, to keep it distinct from Friday’s starter.
If it cracks slightly while cooling, don’t worry — a drizzle of olive oil and a few herb leaves on top will cover it beautifully.
Leftovers keep well covered in the fridge for up to 4 days.
Nonna’s Note: A savory cheesecake sounds like a trick until you taste it — creamy, herb-flecked, and the perfect answer to a garden that gave you more basil, chives, dill, and parsley than any one dish could use.
Shoppable List
From your herb garden (no need to buy): basil, rosemary, mint, dill, chives, curly parsley, oregano, culinary lavender
Produce
Lemons (6–7, for zest and juice across multiple dishes)
Limes (2–3, for corn salad)
Garlic (1 head)
Zucchini (2–3, for ribbons)
Corn on the cob (4–5 ears, for charred corn salad)
Red onion (1 small)
Jalapeño (1)
Protein
Chicken breast (2 lbs, for skewers)
Swordfish steaks (4, about 6 oz each)
Dairy & Cheese
Ricotta, whole-milk (2 containers — one for crostini, one for the cheesecake, ~16 oz each)
Cream cheese (16 oz, for cheesecake)
Feta (for whipped feta starter, plus optional for zucchini ribbons)
Goat cheese (for marinated olives)
Parmesan, grated (small amount, for cheesecake)
Butter, unsalted (for orzo, cheesecake crust)
Eggs (3, for cheesecake; check pantry for cake eggs too)
Heavy cream or milk (for olive oil cake, to steep the lavender)
Pantry & Dry Goods
Buttery round crackers or water crackers (for cheesecake crust)
Orzo pasta
Olives — Castelvetrano and/or Kalamata
Olive oil (good quality, you’ll go through a lot this issue)
Red wine vinegar (for chimichurri)
All-purpose flour, sugar, baking soda (for olive oil cake — verify exact cake recipe quantities when drafted)
Wooden skewers
Bakery
Crusty bread (for the cheesecake course)
Baguette (for crostini)
Bar
Gin
Tonic water
A little preview: the next Jersey Nonna cookbook, The Summer Table, is shaping up to be just as herb-happy as this issue — more on that soon.
Weekend Kitchen Planner
Friday
☐ Snip herbs from the garden — rosemary, mint, lavender for tonight’s round
☐ Soak wooden skewers 20–30 minutes before threading the chicken
☐ Marinate chicken in olive oil, lemon, garlic, and minced rosemary
☐ Whip feta with dill and chives; chill until serving
☐ Assemble and bake the ricotta and herb crostini
☐ Cut lemon and mint for the gin & tonics
Saturday
☐ Make the mint-parsley chimichurri a few hours ahead so the flavors meld
☐ Marinate the olives and goat cheese in herb oil
☐ Cook the lemon-herb orzo
☐ Char the corn, toss with lime and herbs
☐ Grill the swordfish just before serving
Sunday
☐ Bake the Savory Herb & Ricotta Cheesecake the night before — it needs time to set
☐ Marinate the zucchini ribbons with mint
☐ Steep the lavender in warm milk before mixing into the cake batter
☐ Bake the Lemon & Lavender Olive Oil Cake
☐ Slice the cheesecake, set out with crusty bread and crackers
This week’s standing invitation: cut a few extra sprigs and tuck them in a jar by the sink — you’ll use them before Monday, I promise.
Nonna’s Notebook
Growing up, herbs came from a jar. Dried, dusty, the kind you’d shake out over the sauce and hope for the best. My mother didn’t grow herbs — nobody I knew did, really. That’s just how it was done.
When my own turn came to feed a family, I graduated to those little plastic snap-top cases from the supermarket — fresh basil, fresh parsley, a small victory over the spice jar, though I didn’t know yet how small a victory it really was. I used them for years. Never questioned it. It was fresh, wasn’t it? That’s what the label said.
This year, for the first time, I grew my own. And I have to tell you — I get it now. I finally get it.
The basil off my own plant doesn’t taste like the basil from the plastic case. It’s not close. There’s a brightness to it, a freshness that doesn’t survive a truck ride and a grocery store shelf. The mint doesn’t just smell like mint — it smells like it means it. I’ve become, without meaning to, a total convert. I’ll never go back to the jar. I’m not sure I can even go back to the plastic case.
Here’s my dilemma now: the herbs I planted this year are perennials, which means most of them could simply stay outside, tucked in for winter, and come back on their own next spring. But I don’t want to wait for spring. I want them now, in February, when I’m standing at the stove wishing for something green and alive on the counter. So I’m bringing them in — attempting to keep this little herb garden going right through the winter, indoors, windowsill and all.
I’ll let you know how it goes. (I’ll also tell you, one of these days, about the lemon tree. That’s a whole separate saga.)
Around the House
Sundays have become my quiet weapon against Monday mornings — even now, as a nonna with no school-age kids of my own underfoot. I learned that trick years ago, and here’s what I’ve noticed: it still works at this stage of life. Fifteen minutes, that’s it — whatever’s pending gets sorted, tomorrow gets a head start, the week ahead gets a quick once-over. Turns out you don’t age out of needing a calmer Monday. I’ll be sharing more of these small systems in the weeks ahead — the kind that make the house run a little easier, no matter what your Sunday actually looks like.
I've put together a free printable version of my Sunday Reset — grab it here: The Sunday Reset
Nonna Explains
A little herb garden secret: “barbecue rosemary” and “mojito mint” aren’t special varieties — they’re just clever names. Barbecue rosemary is still rosemary (though some cultivars do have those thicker, sturdier stems good for skewering). Mojito mint is simply spearmint, dressed up for cocktail hour. Don’t let the label talk you into paying extra for something your regular rosemary or mint can already do.
Worth Knowing
How to prep wood skewers before grilling: soak them in water for 20–30 minutes beforehand so they don’t scorch or catch fire on the grill. A small step, but it makes all the difference with tonight’s chicken skewers.
Worth Keeping
“There is something almost embarrassingly satisfying about walking out my back door, scissors in hand, and cutting herbs I grew myself.”
Before You Go
The school supply aisles are already full, and somewhere out there a kid is picking out a first-day-of-school outfit with entirely too much confidence. There’s something about that particular chaos — new shoes, new backpacks, the nervous excitement of it all — that gets me every year, even now. Here’s to the new-year energy, however far removed we are from actually going back.
See you next Friday. Bring your appetite.
— The Jersey Nonna