Dill

Dill is a herb of moods. Fresh, it smells sharp and green, almost like anise crossed with grass — that's how you know it's alive. Cut it, and the smell rises fast, filling the air the moment the leaf is bruised. Leave it sitting out after that, and the leaves go flat, both in scent and in looks. This is why you add dill at the very end, off the heat, never before. Cooking it in a hot broth for long will thin out its aroma and leave the steam smelling better than the soup.

Choose it by the stem, not the leaf. A tired bunch goes limp and droops in your hand. The color should be deep green, never yellow at the tips.

Some people say dill is only good chopped over the finished dish — decoration, nothing more. No! The stems, the thick ones you usually throw away, carry flavor too — simmer them in a pickling brine or a fish stock and pull them out later. Throw them in the bin, and you've thrown away part of the plant's flavor for nothing.