In Defense of the Lowly Dandelion

Spring is in full swing here in Kansas City and the flowers are in full bloom. Though the crocuses have now faded, the mid-season tulips are out, along with the daffodils and muscari. The spring "weeds" are in full force, too--the purple and blue ground ivies, the violets, and the dandelions. I say "weed" because I don't think in the terms of many gardeners; I try to assess each interloper by its function or aesthetic value. For instance, ur yard is full of violets because I love the leaves and the flowers, and they fill in the spaces the grass refuses to inhabit. I usually only remove them to make way for other plants. The weeds I dig up are the ones I have no use for.

Everyone knows that the lowly dandelion is the worst "weed" of all, so of course it is the one most vigilantly combated. An overgrown dandelion can really ruin the look of a flowerbed, and once it's gone to seed you're guaranteed another batch to dig up in the summer. Thus the cycle never ends.

As for myself, I've learned to love the lowly dandelion and don't struggle much to keep them at bay. Growing up, I was always charmed and fascinated by fields of the cheery yellow flowers and the shimmer little seed globes that fell apart in the wind. When I read Bradbury's Dandelion Wine in my teens I was mesmerized by his description of a family gathering the flower heads to make wine:

The boys bent, smiling. They picked the golden flowers. The flowers that flooded the world, dripped off lawns onto brick streets, tapped softly at crystal cellar windows and agitated themselves so that on all sides lay the dazzle and glitter of molten sun.

"Every year," said Grandfather. "They run amuck; I let them. Pride of lions in the yard. Star, and they burn a hole in your retina. A Common flower, a weed no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion."

I never knew anyone who made their own dandelion wine (or any wine, for that matter), but I always imagined eventually tracking down a bottle or making my own.

The dandelion, despite its common weediness, is an immensely useful plant with a history of human cultivation going back some centuries. Every part of it is edible and considered to have medicinal properties. The bitter leaves, mildest before the plant has flowered, are similar to arugula and can be eaten raw in salads or sauteed with some oil and spices. The raw flavor is too strong for my tastes, but I love using it as a replacement for arugula in a pesto recipe from Serving Up the Harvest. The mature root of a dandelion can be dried or roasted, then ground into a coffee substitute or additive similar to chicory, which is popular in New Orleans and France. Last year I ground a bit with my usual coffee and found it added a very subtle but nice smoky flavor. And of course, there are the blossoms, which are most often used to make dandelion wine, something that I am finally attempting this year. Lacking proper winemaking equipment, I sought out a basic home recipe and found this one from Texas Cooking. I can't tell you yet whether it worked, but I should know in a few months.

Another thing you can make from dandelion blossoms is jelly (or preserves), which sounds a bit odd but turns out to be quite good. I made up my own recipe using Pomona's Universal Pectin based on this recipe for violet jelly. The process is basically the same (and quite similar to making dandelion wine): you make an infusion by pouring boiling water over the blossoms, then let it steep overnight to deepen the flavor. Once the infusion is made, it is similar to any other jelly. Here is the specific recipe I came up with:

Dandelion Jelly
1 C dandelion blossoms
1 C boiling water
2 TB lemon juice
1/2 tsp calcium water
1/2 C sugar
1/2 tsp Pomona Universal Pectin

1. Wash dandelion blossoms thoroughly and remove any stems. Pour boiling water over blossoms and let steep up to 24 hours, covered.
2. Pour infusion into non-reactive pan and then add the lemon juice and calcium water. Mix together sugar and pectin.
3. Bring infusion to boiling and pour in pectin mixture. Bring back to boiling and cook for 1 minute. Pour into one pint sterilized jar or two half-pint jars; process for 10 minutes.

The flavor of this jelly is interesting, sort of light and floral and "dandelionesque," with none of the associated bitterness. As noted in the base recipe, this can be adapted to any other kind of floral/herbal jelly (if using flowers, obviously make sure they're edible and not sprayed with pesticides).



Besides the practical uses of dandelion as a food, there is evidence to suggest that the oft-loathed taproots may actually be beneficial, drawing up nutrients that might otherwise be locked in deeper soil layers. Taproots can also be a helpful way of breaking up dense, clay-ridden soils.

I'm not suggesting that every gardener stop pulling up these lovely and useful weeds altogether. We all have a certain aesthetic standard we'd like to maintain in our gardens, and too many weeds can disrupt our enjoyment. Nonetheless, it is surprising how little people consider the practical value of the plants growing around them (many of which, like the dandelion, have escaped cultivation) and spend all their time fighting the poor things in a quest for the perfectly neat lawn. Permaculture asks us to rethink the ways we live within our environment, whether there are not more harmonious ways to deal with it. So I'll keep letting a few dandelions grow and enjoy what they have to give.

P.S. For an overview of uses and lore associated with the dandelion, A Modern Herbal is worth checking out. Also information on various wildflowers and herbs with medicinal/culinary value. One of my favorite online plant resources.

Pickling Hot Peppers

This is my second year participating in a CSA and I'm still enjoying the weekly batch of produce I pick up each week at Badseed Market direct from the farm. Last year I didn't really take advantage of the bulk list, which would have provided more opportunity for preserving food over the winter, but this year I've ordered a few bags and already have much fuller cabinet. Our last order included basil for pesto, pepperoncini peppers, a pound of tomatilloes for salsa verde, and a bunch of jalapenos. If you've been keeping up with my garden blog for a while, then you'll remember last year how I extolled the virtues of pesto; there's already a fat bag sitting in the freezer, waiting for the frost to hit. That particular entry also extols the virtues of salsa, canned and fresh.

Of course, one can throw only so many jalapenos into salsa before it becomes barely edible, and after you're used up all the tomatoes or tomatilloes, it's time to find something else to do with the little buggers. Probably my favorite way to preserve peppers is to pickle them. Pickled jalapenos are a good replacement in any recipe that calls for fresh, and they're an awesome topping on nachos and fall chili. The recipe I use from Andrea Chesman's Serving Up the Harvest is very basic; you don't need much to augment the flavor of chiles, just a bit of salt, sugar, some garlic, and some mustard seeds (I didn't have any mustard seeds in my cupboard, so I left them out). Process 10 minutes and viola!

While planning what to do with my jalapenos, I remembered a recipe I found online 2-3 years ago for a pickled condiment, not unlike a Mexican giardiniera, featuring hot peppers, garlic, onions, and carrots. It's called escabeche, and you can find the recipe online at Simply Recipes. The recipe requires a bit more labor compared with a basic hot pepper pickle, but as I recall, the flavor is richer and more nuanced. I'm sure this comes from the additional vegetables, spices, and frying everything in olive oil first.

Here's a photo of the two recipes after processing:



Looks tasty, eh? All but a couple of those peppers came from the CSA, since my jalapenos have not been supremely productive this year. The carrots, however, came from my garden.

After I spent the day pickling hot peppers, I took the time to reorganize my cabinet, so the oldest items were in the front. It was already quite packed with the whole cucumbers I pickled in July and the strawberry jam I made back in May. I can't wait to see what everything tastes like in another few months when the flavors have had time to blend.



My preserves stay inside an old Hoosier cabinet my mother bought as a birthday present last year:



I'm very fond of the cabinet, since it provides me with an extra work surface and nice dark places to store preserves and potatoes.

Last weekend I picked a bunch of cucumbers from my mother's garden and am planning on making some relish before the weekend is through. Do you have any plans to pickle before the season begins to wane? Or will you be making that last batch of salsa or pesto instead? Do tell!

Spring in the Vegetable Garden

A shot of the garden as it looked earlier today.

It's been nearly a month since I last posted, but things have been busy in the vegetable garden. Since my last post almost everything (save a few herbs) has been planted for spring; the peas are flourishing, and the beans are growing tall; the cabbage plants are starting to develop small heads. There have been quite a few harvests, so I thought I would share some of what I've been eating in roughly the order of each harvest.

Raab, 'Sorrento'

I covered this in my last entry on the first harvest in late April. You can read my thoughts in that entry. The plants have continued to send up stalks since that harvest, but the leaves and heads are much smaller. I attempted to use the whole stalks in a pasta dish one night and, despite blanching and sauteeing them, found them far too tough. Last night I just used the leaves and heads and found them quite tender.

Overall, I'm liking raab (or rabe or rapini, etc.), but I have previously expressed my love of greens. It's definitely more useful in its initial leafy state, although the fact that it continues to produce something edible after that initial harvest is a plus. Another plus I've discovered is that most pests, especially cabbage butterflies, tend to avoid it.


The bok choy and kale together...

Kale, "Improved Dwarf Siberian"

I already knew I liked kale, which is why I decided to plant it this year. The primary advantage of this variety was the (fairly) flat leaves and dwarf size that would presumably tolerate close spacing. Kale must typically grow rather tall, because I estimate the full grown leaves at about a foot. I've had a few bites raw and used this kale in a few stir-fries, and honestly, in terms of flavor, I haven't noted a substantial difference in flavor from the Scotch varieties. If you're like me and dislike the thick, curly leaves of those varieties but like the flavor, this one is worth trying. Another thing I really like about kale is that it grow leaves quickly, so you can do a measured harvest every 1-2 weeks.

Dwarf Pac Choi, "Ching-Chiang"

I tried some dwarf/baby bok choy from a local grower at the City Market last year and really liked it. The water content in the stalks seems lower than the full-sized varieties, which makes it a bit more flavorful. Also, with the close-spacing I use and only two people to feed, dwarf plants tend to make better sense. The flavor on this variety is good, somewhat similar to cabbage but milder and lighter. I used a couple plants for stir-fry one night and then the remaining four for dinner the next week.

I noted that the cabbage butterflies also avoided the kale and bok choy. For whatever reason, they seem to prefer the brassicaes with the broader, leathery type leaves, i.e. cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, collards. My theory is that it related to the scent of the leaves.



Now on to the lettuce! Since I planted only crisphead and romaine varieties, I had few thinnings to munch on while waiting for the heads to develop. I did experiment a bit and clip a few outer leaves from a couple varieties, apparently to no great detriment to the plants. After a few nibbles of the 'Reine des Glaces,' I decided to back off and let it develop full juicy heads, so I'll just cover the other two varieties I planted.

Romaine/Cos Lettuce, "Flashy Trout's Back" (Organic)

This is an heirloom variety which, absurdly, I just received in this week's CSA share. Like most romaine varieties, this one forms a sturdy head with pale, crisp leaves in the center, but you'll notice from the photo that the outer leaves are quite loose. The spread of the leaves gets to be problematic as they grow, so chances are next year I'll space them a bit further apart. Otherwise, I real like this variety. It's a bit softer than most romaines, in some ways similar to a looseleaf or butterhead variety, but it has more of the bite one expects from a romaine. I've found it pretty adaptable--good with a Mexican salad or a side salad dressed in mustard vinaigrette. The lime green, red-speckled leaves also add some much-needed visual interest.


The lovely & interesting leaves of the 'Flashy Trout's Back' lettuce.


'Winter Density' lettuce beside some young 'Bull's Blood' beets.

Romaine/Cos Lettuce, "Winter Density"

This is, in a lot of ways, just a good basic romaine lettuce, with a nice deep green color and thick, tasty leaves. What I like most about this variety, and what I'd primarily recommend it for, is that it develops small compact heads, not much bigger than 8" high. It's awesome for close spacing and small servings.

The main problem I've been having with my lettuce is snails or slugs munching on the leaves at night. This is a typical problem with lettuce and not one I've made much effort to solve. They've been mostly attacking the outer leaves. And since the rain let up last week, they appear to be less active.

I'm pretty happy with the vegetable garden thus far. One great thing about starting a cool weather garden is that by May you already feel a small sense of accomplishment. In previous years, I've had to wait until June or July for that feeling. While I'm certainly nowhere near where I'd like to be in terms of production, I've still been able to contribute to a meal or two a week for nearly a month now.

Regarding what I've been making, I've been following a lot of recipes from a great book called Serving Up the Harvest, by Andrea Chesman. I'm really still exploring the book, but I love how it's divided according to seasons, along with the selection of basic recipes that can be modified according to what's on hand. If you find yourself online quite a bit, searching for recipes to match whatever's fresh from the garden or market, like I have, it's an extremely useful book.