There was once a plague of locusts on the island of Minorca, so the story goes, that
devoured just about every plant on the island. The islanders survived for the better part of
a year, apparently, by living on dandelions.
That concept can seem appalling, because as Americans, we HATE dandelions.
Dandelions are the enemy. They are weeds, invaders, parasites that suck the life out of our
lush, green lawns. Most of us have memories of our fathers grimly pulling on work gloves
and equipping themselves to go outside to do battle with the dandelions. They pulled,
sprayed, burned and dug up their lawns until they looked like war zones - all in vain. The
dandelions always came back.
That's almost inevitable, because in the war against dandelions, we are hopelessly out-
matched. The head of a dandelion is not actually a flower; it is a cluster of flowers. Pick a
yellow dandelion sometime and look closely at it. Each of the yellow tufts is an individual
flower; an average dandelion has somewhere between 150 and 200 of them, each bursting
with a type of nectar that is irresistible to bees, who swarm from plant to plant, pollinating
each one with fanatic loyalty. The people who run apple orchards have to be careful to
mow down any dandelions in their orchards each spring, because the bees will ignore the
apple blossoms in their frenzy to get at the dandelions.
And even if an individual dandelion is missed by the pollinating insects, it is equipped to
pollinate itself; the stigma of each of its 150 flowers grows in a tight loop, which rubs up
against neighboring flowers and collects their pollen before curling up tightly to pollinate
itself.
The seeds, once they develop, have two parts, the actual seed, which is called an achene,
and a fluffy, parachute-like tuft of hairs called a pappus, which catches the wind and can
carry the seed as far as 25 miles in a stiff breeze. The achene is covered with little hooks
that give it tremendous gripping ability; when the seed lands, it grabs the ground tightly and
quickly works its way into the soil.
"The dandelion is an incredible plant for its ability to take over an area," says John Roberts,
a biologist with the University of New Hampshire Cooperative Extension Service. He says
that each dandelion has a long, tough tap root that can burrow a foot or more into the soil,
making the plant tremendously drought-resistant. "They thrive in dry, stressful conditions,"
he says. "When lawns are dying all around them, dandelions will be green and vigorous.
Dandelions can regenerate from a root or stem, so when the plant is mowed, an individual
plant doesn't lose its hold on an area of turf."
Roberts says that dandelions are very opportunistic. "They will infiltrate areas that don't
have heavy turf," he says. "Thin or unhealthy lawns are the ones that are particularly
vulnerable. Once a dandelion starts growing, it sends out a rosette of leaves that spread out
laterally and prevents light from penetrating and reaching other plants, such as your grass.
The best means of control is to maintain a dense turf with good cultural practices."
To prevent dandelions from getting a foothold in your lawn, he suggests fertilizing it to
keep the grass as healthy as possible and setting the blades on your mower higher than you
think you need to - "at least 2 - 2 1/2 inches," he says, "though I set mine at 3."
That's one side of the story. There is another one.
North Americans are just about the only people who look on the dandelion as a problem.
Most of the world thinks of it as a food crop. The dandelion or Taraxacum
officinale is in the same family as thistles, daisies and lettuce, but is most
closely related to rooted crops like chicory, escarole and endive. Almost every part of the
plant is edible. It is grown around the world for its roots, flowers and leaves. There is a
theory that the dandelion - which is not native to North America - was brought over from
Europe originally as a garden crop and then went native.
"It's been around for... well, almost forever," says Marty Shiel, who grows dandelion
greens on 3 1/2 acres of his 25-acre vegetable farm in Southampton, Mass. "It was
harvested during the Civil War for its roots, which were roasted and used as a coffee
substitute. it was called 'Poor Man's Coffee'. He points out that even today, in areas of the
deep south like New Orleans, a proper cup of coffee has chicory in it. "It's interesting that
a hundred years ago, the focus was on the roots," he continues. "Today, it's on the greens.
Back in the Pilgrim days - who knows? Probably just on not starving."
According to Shiel, dandelions are better for you than almost any other vegetable.
"Nutritionally, it puts almost all greens to shame," he says. "Capsicums (chili peppers)
come close in terms of vitamin A, but those aren't really greens. If you compare dandelion
greens to something like spinach, they have twice the vitamin A, twice the calcium, more
vitamin C and as much iron. It's really interesting that one of the greatest nutritional plants
is viewd as the lawn's public enemy No. 1."
In his book, Stalking the Wild Asparagus, Euell Gibbons suggested
harvesting dandelions for their roots. "In my opinion," he wrote, "these white roots furnish
a better vegetable than either parsnips or salsify, although it tastes very little like either of
them. The newly grown roots are tender and peel readily with an ordinary potato peeler.
Slice them thinly crosswise, boil in two waters, with a pinch of soda added to the first
water, then season with salt, pepper and butter."
Gibbons recommended harvesting dandelion roots and leaves in the early spring, when
they are the sweetest. Eva Sommaripa agrees. She is the owner of Eva's Garden, a
wholesale produce farm specializing in herbs and greens in South Dartmouth, Mass. "All
the chicories have these big tap roots that store up sugars all winter," she says, "so first
thing in the spring, all the flavor seems to go out into the leaves." Shiel goes along with
that, too. He says that cold weather is the key. "The difference between eating greens like
Swiss chard or dandelions in the early spring or around first frost and at the height of
summer is like night and day," he says.
Both Shiel and Sommaripa grow dandelions for their greens, selling them mostly as part of
a bitter greens salad mixture, but also as a vegetable. "One of the great things about
dandelion greens," Sommaripa says, "is that they do have those two distinct flavors: very
sweet when they're young and more bitter later on in the season. They are good in salads,
as what we call a 'braising' green and in soup. They're wonderful."
Sommeripa says that one of the great benefits of growing dandelions is their ease of
maintenance. "I like them because they are very winter-hardy in our climate," she says.
"What strikes me is that they all survived this past winter with no protection whatsoever."
There are several commercial varieties available from seed houses. She prefers either the
Red Rib or Catalonia Special varieties. "If you are just getting into dandelions, you'll
probably want to stick with one of the domestic varieties," she advises. "The wild greens
are good, but you have to have a taste for that bitter flavor."
Dandelion greens are available in the produce sections of most large grocery stores.
