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It grows in rows and large as trees on the island of Guernsey. Margaret Mitchell wrote of its perfume as reminiscence, sachets hidden in the folds of a skirt evoking the memory of an older time. Faulkner spoke of its aroma as the one thing that rose above the scent of courage in his humid, dust-drenched South. Its bruised leaves and essential oils flavor dishes and atmospheres, and dried, they serve as a popular tisane in France. We too have a penchant for verveine citronelle tea. The golden, honeyed liquor offers up a citrus bouquet, a velvety mouthfeel, and a finish that reminds one of sage. An absolute delight.