Plantcestors: St. Basil

1 day ago
6 min read

When the mundane becomes spiritual

The green leaf of Italian Basil, Ocimum basilicum.

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Prequel: Where Bones Belong to the Earth

Prologue: Everything Makes Sense Now

Part 1: The Portal: An Introduction

Plantcestor: My Friend Fennel
Plantcestor: Queen Anne’s Lace

Part 2: Never Felt Italian-American Enough

Plantcestor: St. Basil (below)

There are a number of herbs that have always felt quintessentially Italian. Oregano, Marjoram, Rosemary, and Thyme (aka Italian Seasoning) - and of course Basil.

The trifecta of tomato and cheese on a Margarita Pizza, the ingredient that makes pesto sing, need I say more?

Yet as an herbalist for over a decade I had not given this herb much thought. Largely because it’s not very easy to grow basil in San Francisco.

I’ve certainly tried!

A honey bee visiting the white flowers of Ocimum basilicum

My Life with Basil Before Visiting Southern Italy

The intoxicating scent of this tender annual is well worth the frequent pinching back that needs to be done to keep the plant producing the delicious aromatic leaves, which I’ve seen done in warmer climates like a summer in Olympia, WA or Montreal, Canada.

But Basil does not thrive in San Francisco. Mark Twain comes to mind, with his famous description of SF summers “the coldest winter I ever spent, was a summer in San Francisco,” which means that many neighborhoods can’t consider planting Basil, while other neighborhoods (think: east side, Mission, south-facing Bernal, Bayview) are limited to a short growing season.

As an urban farmer in SF you're better off spending your time growing parsley or marjoram for a similar effect.

I recall the impression that Basil imparted on me when I first started frequenting San Francisco’s (first ever) Farmers Market on Alemany Blvd. They say that scent is a powerful way to access memory and this is true for me and Basil in the height of summer, late July. Bushels of it. The kind of market harvest you might throw over your shoulder, resembling the way a firefighter carries a person to safety. The scent wafting in the air as I shopped for stone fruit.

In the kitchen Basil also feels finicky. It doesn’t last long in the fridge, so if you do commit to the bargain bushel, don’t let them talk you into two. You had better hope that you don’t get invited to a Lammas ritual (the neo-pagan cross-quarter day at the end of July/early August celebrating “the first harvest”) or a Leo Birthday Party, because if you skip out your Basil making session for a fun time, the quality of your product (if you ever get to it) will decline. “I’ll make a bunch- freeze it, it will last all winter!” (Famously optimistic words after a Basil purchase).

Thai Basil (Ocimum basilicum var. thyrsiflora) is a special treat to pick up at markets with a uniquely spiced and licorice flavor. I’ve seen the perennial hybrid African Blue Basil (Ocimum kilimandscharicum x basilicum ‘Dark Opal’) do well in gardens in foggier neighborhoods for friends who are in denial about which SF micro-climate they live in.

Basil as Medicine (Before Southern Italy)

Holy Basil, also known as Tulsi or Tulsi Basil (of which there are many varieties including Rama, Krishna, Kapoor (all O. tenuiflorum) and Vana Tulsi (O. gratissimum), share a genus, Ocimum, with all other basils. Ocimum tenuiflorum is native to Southeast Asia, modern day India and Nepal and are literally worshiped in the practice of Vaishnava tradition of Hinduism.

Ocimums are all members of the Mint Family (Lamiaceae) who love warm temperate regions, and are found on all 6 continents where humans reside! Clearly the plant has something to offer us as two-leggeds!

As for etymology, Ocimum comes from the Greek word for “smell,” a nod to the delightful aromatics the plant imparts on our noses. Basilicum, also Greek, and the origin for the word “basil” in English means “kingly herb” which tells us how significant it was in the Greek Empire. My mind has often lingered on the connection between this name, basilicum and the term “Basilicas,” which are the most special Catholic churches, meaning “royal house” in Greek. There is certainly a royal and/or spiritual connection to this plant!

As for medicinal use, I’ve usually leaned on Rama Tulsi which has been a self-sower for several years at The Medicine Garden at Alemany Farm. The seeding I’ve done in the greenhouse on-site is often so successful and I’m often looking for ways to pawn off my excess tulsi in August, September and October when SF gets the most heat.

Like culinary Basil, Tulsi doesn't dry well. Just like my hauls from the farmers market, leaves turn dark in the dehydrator and this makes the flavor taste odd. I prefer to use my Tulsi in a seasonal fruit shrub or process it immediately as a tincture. A yummy one at that!

I must mention here that while we might refer to this type of basil as Italian Basil, it’s certainly not originally from Italy. Most likely the plant and its Ocimum family members originated in a hotter region, like north Africa, or Southeast Asia. There is recorded cultivation of the herb for over 5,000 years (source Wikipedia).

Holy Basil growing at Alemany Farm in San Francisco, CA.

Basil as a Portal in Southern Italy

Up until my trip to Southern Italy in the summer of 2024, I didn’t have any experience using Italian Basil in my herbal practice. I had merely considered it a culinary herb.

Shortly after arriving near Gangi, Sicily - a rural mountain town in the north, I was sitting poolside getting my bearings. Looking for a plant preview, I pull out Italian-American herbalists, Kara Wood and Jade Alicandro’s Materia Medica and start at the beginning.

Materia Medicas are often organized in alphabetical order, and there were no plants that started with “A” so, naturally:

B - Basil.

In their overview of Basil I came to learn of a new herbal action - exhilarant, which they define as “a substance which arouses the vitality in the spiritual heart and inclines the spirit towards joy” citing American herbalist Paul Bergner, who is summarizing the work of Ibn Sina (also known as Avicenna) who was an Arab philosopher and physician who lived in present day Uzbekistan at the end of the 10th century, beginning of the 11th.

Put simply, I didn’t know there was a word for a plant that increases joy. How delightful!

This put Basil on the map for me.

A new Lens

When I arrived back home, I got a living basil plant from Trader Joes. Sometimes the mundane is spiritual. Sometimes the mundane is spiritual.

Now I have a Basil roommate. We’re still getting to know each other. I was impressed because they made it through one winter! On occasion I would trim a few leaves to level up a dinner begging for a garnish.

I’ve also come to understand there’s a traditional connection to basil as an herb for protection, which makes sense because it’s full of yummy (and carminative) essential oils. According to my teacher Karyn Sanders at The Blue Otter School it’s also gently cooling and stimulating to the liver. It’s safe for use in babies who won’t latch or gain weight. It can increase appetite and gently support drug and alcohol detoxification. Considering it’s so common in food, this shows us that it’s safe to use for a wide range of people.

While I’m still learning and deepening my connection to Basil, I must say it’s been delightful to have curiosity about a plant that isn’t new, yet I see it in a new light. It’s delightful to feel excited and curious about a plant! Especially one as charming and exhilarating as Basil.

This summer I hope to work with Basil even closer, making a shrub and/or tincture from one of my hauls from a late-July haul from the Alemany Farmers Market.

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