In the Bronx, a garden of healthy delights

The herb garden was designed by Martha Stewart, and here common aromatics such as lavender and thyme rub shoulders with the lesser-known Thai basil, French sorrel, and Greek oregano. Perfectly pruned sweet bay trees stand sentinel in large terra cotta pots, and pale green, frilly hops vines wind through the iron gate as casually and convincingly as though this occurred naturally. Bronze fennel grows close to nose level, and its warm, sweet, licorice fragrance fills the air.

Spiky, silver-gray fronds of cardoons dominate the center of the herb garden, contrasting with the otherwise familiar and somewhat cuddly seeming herbs. The stems and roots of these relatives of the artichoke are eaten raw, and the toothy-looking plants make for a striking visual. Chef Mario Batali, who will be at the garden for a cooking demonstration on Oct. 16, looks on from a placard featuring his headshot and an invitation to visitors to contribute their own thoughts on cooking with herbs by text message.

Part of the exhibit’s appeal is its interactive nature. While strolling the grounds, visitors can sample garden-inspired recipes, learn techniques for growing, and listen to audio tours narrated by celebrity chefs on their cellphones. A weekly farmers’ market is held on the premises every Wednesday, and on those days admission to the garden is free. You cannot, however, buy produce grown in the Edible Garden. Besides the occasional handful of herbs pinched by a visiting chef, the garden goes uneaten (except by a rabbit or two) so it will remain attractive.

At the container garden on the steps of the conservatory, which has not yet opened for the season, city dwellers are presented with models for growing vegetables using limited space. Clusters of cherry tomatoes spill out from their pots, maroon amaranth grows near gangly, aptly named yardlong beans, and a nearly ripe pineapple dangles over the edge of its planter as if daring visitors to consider the seemingly endless possibilities for gardening where there is no garden.