Lemon balm is one of the first plants I ever made tea with. On the path to the front door of my childhood home, the home my parents still reside in, lemon balm grew feral (and still does) in patches amongst the rhododendrons. I was a child.
I recall picking plenty of leaves and making a somewhat disappointingly bland tasting tea. I later learned that lemon balm truly shines as a tea (or tisane, for you purists reading this) when the leaf is dried.
After my failure to brew a good cup of tea, I resorted to picking a few leaves to chew them like a sugarless but refreshing gum or occasionally, I’d toss a few in my water bottle to add a subtle hint of flavour.
Years later, in my late twenties, I attended my first tincture making workshop. Our teacher had acquired garbage bags filed with lemon balm and huge jugs of apple cider vinegar the kind with the mother for us to fill our jars with. My jar sat in my cupboard for a month before I strained the leaves and bottled the tincture for use.
Now a decade or so later, lemon balm grows in my garden (in a pot! very important!) and I pick it and dry it for tea, although these days I prefer it blended with dried peppermint which gives it a boost.
