Marjoram and oregano

Who knows the difference between marjoram and oregano. Put up your hands. Yep, I thought so. No one. Everyone gets baffled by this one.

The family of wonderful herbs is called origanum. Hang on a mo, I need to check that.  Pause while I dive into the internet. It looks wrong.

So no wonder it’s confusing, origanum is the herb. And it is also spelt oregano. And the herb I have in my garden is called oreganum marjorana.  Which I call marjoram.

I like the way the RHS puts it with this brilliant culinary herb:  Marjorams are generally used fresh, unlike their close relation oregano, whose leaves are more likely to be dried and stored. Most marjorams also have a more delicate flavour.

It’s probably why you can easily mistake the marjoram for other herbs, it’s not a knock-out scent.

My oreganum marjorana here in the potager links both in a rather neat way.

I inherited this marjoram from my friend Leslie and I placed it in a teensy corner of the vegetable garden.

It is the perennial variety which will put up this lush fresh growth in spring, flower (tall purple spikes which the bees adore) and then die down in winter. You have to cut it back in winter otherwise you get a thicket of dead stalks.

If I cut it regularly all year (ie stop it flowering) I get fresh leaves all summer.  And it is the perfect accompaniment to courgettes. And scrambled eggs. And aubergines. You name it.

It is such a weed that if you come by for a visit you get to take home a compulsory party bag of the stuff.  It’s tough; you have to lever the roots up with a fork.  And it spreads.

So think very carefully where you want it to go.  I keep mine corralled by just severing a few feet each year to stop it encroaching on the vegetables.  But its flowers dry really well and are a regular feature of my bouquets in the summer.

What’s not to like?

Well, bland. It can be a bit bland.  So for me, it’s oregano all the way.  I found three pungent plants at a supermarket (of all places) a few years back.  Not knowing how frost hardy they were, I blithely planted them in the potager, thinking they were like the hardy marjorams.

Two promptly died in the first winter, but one struggled through. It was more stick than leaf, but it was alive.   I loved its sharp flavour – powerful and it can probably cure warts or heartburn or whatever ailment you choose. Just a few leaves in a dish will make a difference.

My friend Teo warned me it’s a devil to propagate, but I bravely had a go last autumn.

And here is Artur modelling the result. I have five (five!) new plants.  Dumb luck, believe me.  But if you find an oregano you like, then take cuttings in autumn and cross your fingers and toes and see of the tiny plants make it into root and then growth.

If you come to the farm begging oregano you are going to leave thwarted. These are too precious until I can build up my stocks.