It’s true confession time. Sometimes I assign a personality to my herbs. Rosemary is a wise old woman with lots of depth and endurance that emerges when things get hot in the kitchen. Basil is a temptress, just begging to be touched and stroked and added to the soup pot. But chives – they’re cute little imps, smiling and waving in the breeze, ready to add a flash of onion flavor to any food.
