Guerrero Lemon Balm Tea (Te de Toronjil)

Guerrero's te de toronjil lives in the home kitchens of the Costa Chica, the Centro, and the mountain towns where a woman keeps a pot of herbs near the back door because the mercado is not the only place food begins. This is not the Mexico of chiles and lard. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and Guerrero also has its quiet cups: infusions for the nerves, for sleep, for a child who came home frightened.

Toronjil is the herb that defines the cup. In the markets of Chilpancingo and Acapulco, the bundles sit next to manzanilla, hierbabuena, tila, and epazote, tied with string and sold by women who know exactly which plant you need before you finish explaining yourself. Ask for toronjil fresco, not a dusty tea bag that has been sitting in a box for a year. Pregúntale a las señoras del mercado. They know.

The technique is restraint. You do not boil toronjil until it tastes like wet grass. You warm the canela, turn off the heat, add the herb, cover the pot, and let the leaves give what they have. My mother wrote in the margin of her notebook: 'las hierbas tiernas no se maltratan.' Tender herbs are not mistreated. She was right.