With the arrival of spring and warm weather, the dandelions have once again made a reappearance around our neighborhood. This hearty weed is responsible for not only shelves full of lawn and garden weeding paraphernalia, but also quite a few bruised knees and sore backs.
When it comes to lawn maintenance, my father-in-law has a practical attitude: "If it's green, don't mess with it."
He may have a point. After all, seen from the car window at 20 miles an hour, what is the difference between perfect Marion bluegrass and a neatly mowed lawn decorated with a few dandelion plants? You've just got to keep the yellow flowers picked each day.
I assumed something along his line of reasoning at the first rental house I lived in. The lawn, especially during the summer, took on the ap-pearance of a style of gardening that could best be described as "California Brown." If I watered, I reasoned, that would only make the grass grow, and then I'd have to mow it. Dandelions didn't need water.
However, home ownership, a maturing outlook, neighborhood peer-pressure or matrimonial well-being (take your pick) have convinced me that the yard should be purged of the bothersome botanical blight. Nowadays, most non-rainy days will find me out patrolling the plantation with Dandelion Death foremost in my mind.
"I could have taken care of your problem with no trouble at all," commented one of my old college roommates. Mike was a Navy pilot who, when he wasn't stationed up at NAS Whidbey Island, flew attack bombers off carriers.
"It would have been easy to drop down from about 30,000 feet and lay a little defoliant on your yard. Presto! Your dandelion problem would have been cured. I was usually pretty accurate, too!"
I think the neighbors would have been a little leery and casting a wary eye skyward if I'd called in an air strike.
Chemical weeding does have its place, though, I'm convinced. I've found that through diligent use of the Killer-Kane (a large, hypodermic-type dispenser that allows you to apply toxin directly to each dandelion) you can pretty well forget the knee- and back-breaking weeding routine.
But just mention chemical weeding around some people and they begin to envision spreaders full of industrial-strength plant death crisscrossing the yard.
"You could probably do something useful with the plant," one friend suggested. "What about dandelion wine, or tea, or salad, or something?"
Fair enough, I thought. One of my partner's hobbies is collecting cook-books; there should be something about dandelions in them.
Sure enough, my first find in the Lady Marjorie's bookcase was in "The Sunset Salad Book"; dandelions are pictured as one of 12 "accessory greens" and described as having "a tart, bitter taste."
The next volume perused was "The Herb Book," by John Lust, "the most complete catalog of nature's 'miracle plants' ever published." It suggests, "The dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) has two important uses: to promote the formation of bile and to remove excess water from the body in edemous conditions resulting from liver problems. The root especially affects all forms of secretion and excretion from the body. By acting to remove poisons from the body, it acts as a tonic and stimulant as well."
"Joy of Cooking" commented, "It's easy to find [no kidding] and easy to handle if it is cut off at the root crown ... its slightly acid taste complements that of beetroot."
When I got to "The Fannie Farmer Cookbook," I finally found a recipe.
Dandelion Salad With Bacon
4 T vinegar
1 1/2 tsp sugar
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
6 slices bacon
1 pound (450 g) dandelion greens, trimmed, washed and dried
2 large ripe tomatoes, sliced into 4 thick slices
1/2 cup (1dL) finely sliced scallions
Mix the vinegar, sugar, garlic and pepper in a small bowl. Let stand at least 30 minutes. Fry the bacon in a large skillet until crisp. Place on paper towels to drain off excess fat. Remove the skillet from the heat and add the greens to the hot bacon fat in the skillet; gently stir for a minute or until the greens wilt a little. Add the vinegar mixture and mix well.
"Arrange the tomato slices on a large plate or individual salad plates, mound a portion of dandelion greens on each slice and sprinkle scallions on top."
Gee - I feel just like Emeril Lagasse.
The books do mention, though, that after the plants flower, the leaves become tough and quite bitter. I don't know about your yard, but I don't even begin to realize that I've got a dandelion problem until the plants begin to flower.
Also, when you think about the moss-control fertilizer that we've just finished spreading and then begin to count the number of animals that make their way through the yard ... I think I'll just keep busy with my Killer-Kane, thank you.
[[In-content Ad]]
