We’ve finally crept out of the single digits, but it’s still firmly tea-drinking season here in Iowa. For weeks now, I’ve been on a steady drip of herbal—and occasionally caffeinated—tea, just trying to coax a bit of warmth and vitality back into my bones.
And while some of that tea comes in convenient bag form, much of it was grown right here in my own garden. From mint to chamomile and more, there’s something satisfying about reaching into the pantry or freezer for a palmful of leaves—clean, fragrant, and as fresh as it gets—knowing exactly where they came from and how they were grown.
If you’re a tea drinker, a gardener—or both—why not save a little money and harvest the best tea possible right from your own backyard or patio? Growing your own herbs for tea is surprisingly easy, and in this week’s post, I’ll share my favorite varieties for crafting soothing, aromatic infusions—perfect for whatever mood happens to strike. So, grab a cup and let's get started.
Mint
Mint is one of my favorite herbs for tea because it’s easy to grow, easy to prepare, and easy to drink. In fact, my kids will even drink mint tea when they have a tummy ache. They don’t exactly gulp it down—but they know it brings comfort, so they endure.
I genuinely love the flavor of mint, and I’ll often use it as a friendly cover for some of the more… assertive therapeutic herbs when I’m blending teas. It smooths rough edges and makes almost anything more appealing.
My preferred way to preserve mint couldn’t be simpler: I wash the leaves, let them dry briefly, then shove them straight into a gallon freezer bag. When it’s time for tea, those frozen leaves go directly into the cup. The result is remarkably fresh and flavorful—so much so that you may even notice little pools of mint oil floating on the surface. It’s a small moment of garden magic in the middle of winter.
Mint has a bit of a reputation for being thuggish, and it’s not entirely undeserved. I don’t mind its wandering ways—I actually enjoy letting it creep into my walking paths—but for gardeners who prefer a little more order, mint is best grown with some boundaries. The good news is that it adapts beautifully to containers, making it easy to enjoy all the benefits of homegrown mint tea without giving it free rein in the garden.
Lemon Balm
Lemon balm was my gateway into homegrown tea. Years ago, while visiting the home of a Turkish friend, he served me a cup of lemon balm tea prepared exactly the way I described for mint—this is, in fact, where I learned the method. I was completely taken by the flavor: familiar and mint-like, yet lifted by a bright, citrusy note. It felt as though I’d briefly slipped into some faraway, sunlit place.
Lemon balm is well known for its soothing properties, and today you’ll find it tucked into many popular stress-ease supplements. But there’s no need to spend good money on fancy formulations when you can enjoy lemon balm at its freshest and most potent, straight from your own garden.
With its bushy growth habit and lush foliage, lemon balm doesn’t require much space. A single container or short row is more than sufficient, and the plants rebound quickly after cutting, allowing for multiple harvests throughout the season.
German Chamomile
Chamomile is probably one of the most familiar herbs on this list—and for good reason. It has a gentle, slightly sweet flavor, and its calming effects are so well known that it’s practically synonymous with bedtime tea.
With my winter days often filled with writing, digging up long-forgotten heirlooms, and planning the coming garden and seed production season, it can be surprisingly hard to turn my brain off at night. That’s where chamomile steps in. There are very few evenings when I don’t reach for a cup before bed, using its soothing properties to ease stress, settle the nerves, and gently invite sleepiness.
Chamomile is also very easy to grow. The plants don’t demand much space, and harvesting is as simple as picking the flowers as they open. Dry them well, store them in a jar, and you’ll have a homegrown sleep aid that’s both effective and deeply comforting—no supplement aisle required.
Echinacea
Years ago, while I was in graduate school, I attended a presentation by a peer who was attempting to fractionate echinacea—to isolate the specific compound responsible for its therapeutic effects. “What will you do with it?” I asked. “I suppose someone will want to make a drug from it,” she replied. And such is human history.
The good news is that you don’t have to wait for the pharmaceutical version. You can grow the real thing yourself—right in the garden, or better yet, tucked into your landscaping. Also known as purple coneflower, echinacea is a striking perennial and a natural fit for pollinator gardens. Ours reliably attract all manner of butterflies, including the massive eastern tiger swallowtail, which is truly something to behold. But you’re not here for the butterflies.
In the tea world, echinacea is best known for its immune-supporting properties and is commonly blended into cold-fighting and sore-throat remedies. Preparations vary widely—some rely solely on the roots, while others use the whole plant. I always intend to dig roots for more traditional preparations, but if I’m being honest, that rarely happens. Leaves are my fallback, and they work just fine for everyday immune teas when the sniffles start making the rounds.
Lavender Hyssop
Also known as anise hyssop, lavender hyssop is a fragrant, easy-to-grow perennial prized for its elegant purple flower spikes and gentle licorice-like flavor. On this list, it naturally follows echinacea because it plays a similar—though slightly different—role during bouts with colds and flu. I tend to think of lavender hyssop as a supporting player: where echinacea brings the immune-supporting muscle, lavender hyssop steps in to ease symptoms, soothing sore throats, calming coughs, and helping break up congestion. It also has mild calming properties, encouraging rest—which, when you’re under the weather, is exactly what the body needs.
In the garden, lavender hyssop is a true showstopper. Its tall, graceful spires are magnets for bees and other pollinators, and it looks perfectly at home planted in drifts among native perennials. I’ll admit, though, that I often treat it like an annual, tucking it in among my culinary herbs each year so it stays front of mind. As a bonus, it seems to help recruit pollinators straight into the heart of the garden—never a bad thing when you’re growing herbs for both beauty and purpose.
Wild Bergamot
Also known as bee balm, wild bergamot is another time-tested cold-fighting herb that grows naturally across much of the United States. Its soft lavender-purple flowers bloom in early to midsummer, often popping up along woodland edges, prairie remnants, open hillsides, and sunny roadside outcroppings. When in bloom, it’s hard to miss—both for gardeners and for the bees that crowd its flowers.
As a tea herb, wild bergamot has a bold, herbal flavor best compared to oregano or thyme. That resemblance isn’t accidental. The plant is rich in thymol, a compound long valued for its antimicrobial and antiseptic properties and commonly associated with sore-throat and respiratory remedies. The tea is assertive rather than delicate, but when you’re fighting a cold, that strength feels purposeful. If you find it to be too much, try blending it with a bit of mint.
And while bee balm grows wild, there’s no need to forage for it unless you want to. Wild bergamot is easy to grow right in your own backyard, patio, or landscape. It’s a hardy perennial, well suited to naturalized plantings and pollinator gardens, and once established, it provides both beauty and a reliable source of medicinal leaves—no wandering required.
Holy Basil (Tulsi)
Holy basil is the most recent addition to my tea garden. For years, I’d enjoyed it only in commercial blends—usually paired with lemon and ginger—so my first homegrown tasting caught me a bit off guard. On its own, prepared the same frozen-leaf way I use for mint, the flavor was decidedly grassy and very earthy. It’s entirely possible my preparation wasn’t ideal, or that my taste buds simply weren’t acclimated after years of drinking it alongside brighter companions. Since then, I’ve had much better luck using holy basil in smaller amounts, blended with lemon and freshly grated ginger, or softened with a bit of mint—combinations that feel far more balanced and approachable.
Medicinally, holy basil is best known as an adaptogen—an herb traditionally used to help the body cope with stress and restore balance. It’s often turned to during times of mental fatigue, emotional strain, or seasonal illness, and many people find it both gently energizing and calming at the same time. That dual nature makes it especially appealing during long winter stretches when stress runs high and resilience feels in short supply.
In the garden, holy basil is easygoing and productive. It’s typically grown as an annual, thrives in warm weather, and responds well to regular cutting, which encourages bushier growth and more tender leaves. We offer both green and red-leaved varieties, with red holy basil being noted for its more pronounced flavor. If you’re curious about tulsi, growing your own is a low-risk, high-reward way to get to know it—especially once you find the blend that suits your palate.
Culinary Herbs
The last category isn’t a single herb at all, but a familiar group: culinary herbs. Thyme, oregano, sage, and even basil all have a place in the tea garden, though I’ll admit I rarely brew a cup made entirely from any one of them. Instead, I use these herbs sparingly—as accents—to deepen other blends or to lean into a particular therapeutic quality.
Thyme and oregano, for example, are both rich in thymol, making them especially useful additions to cold and sore-throat teas. Sage brings a resinous, grounding note and has a long history of use for throat and respiratory support. Basil is a little different. For tea, I tend to reach for the spicier types—cinnamon basil, clove-scented basils, or spicy globe basil—where the warmth and complexity translate far better to the cup than the sweeter Italian types.
Used thoughtfully, culinary herbs add structure and purpose to herbal teas, turning simple infusions into something a bit fancier. They’re not always the star of the show—but they’re often what makes a good blend truly work.
Harvesting Tips
You've done the work, now it's time for reaping—and before long, steeping! Here are a few helpful tips to help you capture the best flavor while keeping your plants healthy and productive all season long.
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Harvest early in the morning
For most herbs, the highest concentration of aromatic oils is found in the morning, after the dew has dried but before the heat of the day sets in. This is when leaves tend to be most fragrant and flavorful, making it an ideal time for harvesting herbs intended for tea. -
Take no more than one-third of the plant
A good rule of thumb is to never remove more than about ⅓ of a plant at any one time. This ensures the plant can recover quickly, continue growing vigorously, and provide multiple harvests over the course of the season rather than a single, exhausting cut. -
Harvest before flowering when possible
Many herbs are at their peak for tea just before they flower, when leaf growth is lush and flavors are at their most balanced. Once flowering begins, energy shifts away from leaf production and flavors can become more bitter or medicinal. If you’d like to extend the harvest window, pinching off flower tips can help delay flowering and encourage fresh leaf growth.
Now, I'll admit that I'm not always the best rule follower. If you've let them flower, don't let it discourage you from harvesting leaves—they'll still be better than the teas you can get from the grocery store. This is real-life here. Sometimes accommodations must be made.
Storing Homegrown Tea
There are two primary ways that one can store homegrown tea—freezing and drying. Which one you choose will depend on the plant, your space limitations, and your own preferences.
After Harvesting: Rinse the sprigs to remove any dirt then gently pat dry, being careful not to bruise the leaves. Proceed to freezing or drying.
Freezing is my preferred way to store aromatic herbs like mint, lemon balm, and hyssop. To freeze them, I lay the springs out on a baking sheet and place in the freezer. Once frozen, I'll move them to airtight containers. If I have time, I'll strip the leaves, which at this point will be easy, but sometimes I just shove the whole mess into a freezer bag and pluck leaves off as needed.
Drying is more appropriate for floral herbs, like chamomile, and culinary herbs which are typically prepared with cooking in mind. You can bundle these herbs and hang them to dry in a cool, dark place. I've also run them through my dehydrator when I'm in a hurry or am dealing with thicker-leaved, slow-to-dry herbs like basil.
Photo by Drew Jemmett on Unsplash
Serving the Tea
When it comes to serving herbal tea, the tools matter far less than the leaves themselves. Over the years, I’ve used just about every style of infuser—vintage metal acorn types, clamp-style mesh strainers, cup-top mini strainers, even kettles with built-in infusers—and in terms of flavor, they’re all more or less interchangeable. The best choice is usually the one that fits the way you harvest and store your herbs.
Choose an infuser that matches your leaf form
For fresh or dried leaves, shallow cup-top strainers work perfectly well. Frozen leaves, however, tend to be stiff and awkward until they thaw. In that case, clamping mesh infusers are easier to load and keep submerged, making them far less fussy to use.
Give the leaves room to move
No matter the infuser style, avoid packing herbs too tightly. Loose leaves circulate better, allowing flavors and aromatic compounds to extract more evenly into the water.
Mind the water temperature
Most herbal teas do best with just-off-the-boil water. Exceptionally delicate leaves (like lemon balm or mint) can benefit from slightly cooler water to preserve brighter, greener notes.
Steeping time matters
Below are some general guidelines for steeping times, but don't follow them blindly. Experiment for yourself and find the best steep times for your favorite herbs and prep method.
- Tender leaves (mint, lemon balm, basil): 5–7 minutes
- Heartier leaves (echinacea, sage, thyme): 7–10 minutes
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Woody stems or roots (if used): 10–15 minutes
Longer steeping will intensify flavor, but it can also bring out bitterness in some herbs—especially once flowers or mature leaves are involved.
Final Thoughts
Well, there you have it—some of my favorite herbs to grow for tea making. Some are soothing, others calming, and still others useful for bringing you back to health when illness sets in. If you want to grow your own tea, all you really need is a little space—an empty corner of the garden, a few pots on the patio, or even a spot tucked in among your landscaping plants.
In time, you’ll find yourself infusing homegrown botanicals into everyday routines: a cup of mint after dinner, chamomile before bed, or a stronger, more purposeful blend when a cold starts making the rounds. These are not precious plants, and tea making doesn’t require perfection. Harvest when you can, use what you have, and adjust as you go.
If there’s one takeaway here, it’s this: growing herbs for tea is accessible, forgiving, and genuinely useful. Start small, grow what you’ll actually drink, and let the garden do the rest.
Ready to get started? Check out our ready-made tea gardening kit or create your own tea garden by browsing our full collection of herbs for tea making.
