In Praise of

I’m going wild again, just like I did last year.  It’s a civilized wildness - if such a thing is possible - centered around a simple, delicious spring ritual that starts in mid April and continues through mid May in my area: harvesting wild dandelion greens at their young and tender best. 

For my neighbors who watch the spectacle, I suspect it’s a curious sort of wildness, the likes of which most folks don’t see very much any more.  In my case, it consists of a grown man crawling around on the ground on his hands and knees with a sharp knife in one hand and a colander in tow.  Although dandelions can be found throughout my yard, I’ve discovered that the best ones grow in the wildest of places, safe from the punishing foot traffic of my three young boys and the whir of the lawnmower blade. 

The wildest spot in my yard is behind our house under the protective canopy of 50-foot pines.  The trees were planted many years ago as a natural border between my yard and our neighbor’s. As they’ve grown, they’ve created a miniature sort of fringe forest ecosystem.  The soil there is particularly rich due to the accumulation and decomposition of pine needles and windswept autumn leaves.  Just enough sunlight passes through for dandelions and other opportunistic plants to thrive.  

Although these wild salad greens are only 30 yards away from my backdoor, my path to discovering them was very indirect.  In fact, it veered off course by about 3000 miles to the east.  I learned the pleasures of eating dandelion salads in Europe from my Belgian mother-in-law, affectionately known as “Mami” by my sons.  Mami grew up on a small family farm in the rural foothills of the Ardennes.  Although the nearby battles of WWII were over by the time she was born, the wartime mentality of thrift and frugality held fast in Europe throughout her childhood.  The thinking was that if the land was prepared to offer up free food in the form of salad greens, mushrooms, and wild berries, one would be irresponsible to refuse. 

For me, eating dandelion salads is not about economy but gastronomy.  Food writers often say that the best foods are those having a sense of time and place. If I love these mildly bitter greens as much as I do, it’s because I know the ground they come from and know that they only come once a year.  They also serve as a useful reminder that good foods are closer than we may think, sometimes as close as our own backyard.

Roger Doiron works for the Eat Local Foods Coalition of Maine and is founder of Kitchen Gardeners International.

Did You Know?

The word "dandelion" comes from the French term "dents de lion" meaning lion's teeth, describing the jagged shape of the plant's leaves.  There are over 100 different varieties of dandelions.  Although they are now considered a nuisance by many gardeners, history shines brightly on them.  Dandelions have long been revered for their medicinal qualities.  Since the 7th century, the Chinese have known about the antibacterial properties of dandelion juice. Researchers recently discovered that dandelion may protect against liver disease. All parts of the dandelion have their uses: the roots can be dried and roasted as a coffee substitute; the young, tender leaves can be eaten either raw in a salad or steamed; the flowers can be used to make  wine.

by Roger Doiron

On Making Dandelion Wine

"Gather 1 gallon (3.75 liters) of dandelion flowers on a dry day. Put these in a two-gallon crock and pour 1 gallon of boiling water over them. Cover the jar and allow the flowers to steep for 3 days. Strain through a jelly cloth so you can squeeze all the liquid from the flowers. Put the liquid in the kettle, add 1 small ginger root, the thiny pared peels and the juice of 3 oranges and a lemon. Stir in 3 pounds (1.36 kilos) of sugar and boil gently for 20 minutes.  Return the liquid to the crock and allow it to cool until barely warm. Spread 1/2 cake of yeast on a slice of toasted ryle bread and float it on top. Cover the crock with a cloth and keep it in a warm room for 6 days. Then strain off the wine into a gallon jug, corking it loosely with a wad of cotton.  Keep it in a dark place for 3 weeks, then carefully decant into a bottle and cap or cork tightly.  Don't touch it until Christmas or later.  My "drinking uncle" says that, even during the worst blizzard in January, a glass of dandelion wine will bring summer right into the house"

- from "Stalking the Wild Asparagus", by Euell Gibbons

Kitchen Gardeners International is a 501c3 nonprofit organization founded in Maine, USA with friends from around the world.  Our mission is to celebrate home-grown, home-cooked foods in their many international forms and their role in building a healthier, tastier, and more sustainable food system.