[from the Letters archive] Duncan Street Herb Garden The Roof is in Bloom Nonna (that's my wife, for those of you not lucky enough to know her) has been laboring away these past several weeks in "the back forty" – Incanto's rooftop herb garden, which overlooks Duncan Street. It was one of those ideas that sounded smart when we first thought of it: "Let's plant a rooftop herb garden! We can grow our own food. It will be a model of sustainable urban agriculture. It will be fun!" In truth, it has been fun. But it certainly has not been easy or inexpensive. Soon after the "gee-isn't-this-a-great-idea" phase, I had nightmares about the roof caving in on a rainy night, collapsing under the weight of mud-filled planters. So, before doing anything we consulted a structural engineer. He made some calculations based on the depth and size of the planters and the weight of planters filled with waterlogged dirt. Structural engineers actually have books filled with tables to assist in such calculations: "Yes, they're using organic dirt, not agro-chem potting soil, so you need to use Table 832.d not Table 641.a." He advised me where we could place planters (on load-bearing walls and on the newly framed part of the roof) and where we should not place planters (pretty much everywhere else, unless we were pure-bred Irish). I ordered lumber from a local lumberyard. Somebody in that business is making a killing and I'm pretty sure it's not the trees. Then one day our good friend and skilled carpenter Don Matter came over and helped us build deep redwood planters and haul them up to the roof. We placed them on load-distributing sleepers in locations based on the recommendations of the structural engineer. Looking on, a curious neighbor asked what all the boxes were for. We told her we were planning a mass grave. She hasn't been by to eat since. A fellow Slow Food member, Therica Elliot, assisted with lining the planters, filling them with dirt, and planting our first crops. After a few months of growing, the first harvest came. It included red chicories, peas & leeks. They were all beautiful. Each of the ten servings the harvest produced was delicious. So much for sustainability. Over the winter, Nonna replanted, putting herbs everywhere. We went for quantity, not variety. Sage, parsley, thyme, mint, and rosemary. Now we're starting to see some of the first leaves of our labor. The parsley is going into the salsa verde, a hundreds-of-years-old Italian recipe. We're making Duncan Street rosemary salt to season roast potatoes. Rooftop sage is flavoring soups and beans. Upper Noe thyme is scenting our braised meats and stocks. And, in a moment of true inspiration, we lifted some of the beautiful, delicate, light-purple rosemary flowers and candied them. We served the candied flowers with our olive oil cake.  They were ethereal. And I'm pretty sure Incanto is the only restaurant on our block that offers them.