Everyone knows dandelions (Taraxacum officinale), and everyone, it seems, has an opinion about them. Loved by children. Reviled by owners of suburban lawns. Dandelions just evoke strong feelings. Foragers are no exception. Many are enthusiastic fans, but some of the best foragers I know, who are otherwise effusive about wild food, hold them in contempt. For me, the dandelion was one of the first wild plants I learned, and it remains one of my favorites.
Controversy arises because dandelions are bitter. There’s no way around it. I’m not a person with a high tolerance for bitter flavors; I don’t even like coffee. But the flavor of the dandelion has always appealed to me. So how does someone fall in love with a green of such bitterness? A few tips regarding identification, timing, taste-testing, and preparation can help.
People think they know a dandelion when they see one. They’re usually right, but even with something so familiar, it is still essential to make a definitive identification. Hawkweeds (Hieracium spp.), for example, have bright-yellow composite flowers, though their hairy leaves are entire and their flower stalks are not hollow. Chicory (Cichorium intybus) looks similar in the early spring before the flowers emerge but can be identified by the fine hairs along the midribs of the leaves.
Dandelions greens are most tender in spring, when the rosettes of leaves appear but before the flowers grow. Gather them when the flower bud first emerges as a little button at the center of the rosette. As with other plants, I taste as I forage to find the patches with the best flavor.
I like these little nibbles, but I recognize that some people don’t. And even I wouldn’t sit down to eat a bowlful of raw dandelion greens any more than most people would sit down to eat a bowlful of mint leaves. But dandelion greens can still be enjoyed in quantity. The secret is in their preparation.
Some years ago, I came across an essay in Backwoods Home Magazine entitled “Making Dandelions Palatable” by John Kallas. It has been my guide to preparing dandelions ever since. Kallas interviewed old-timers who grew up loving dandelion “salad.” How? The answer, it turned out, was that the dandelions were often fried in bacon fat. From these interviews, Kallas derived several principles for dandelion preparation. First, get young leaves from plants that don’t get too much direct sun. They’re still bitter, but the leaves are tender and flavorful. Next, cook the leaves. A few minutes of boiling will dissolve many of the sesquiterpenes, the chemicals primarily responsible for dandelions’ bitterness. Then, prepare the leaves in dishes with ample fats; this may inhibit the water-soluble sesquiterpenes from stimulating your tongue’s bitter receptors – hence the bacon. Finally, mix the leaves with other flavors, especially acidic or sweet ones. Following these rules, I have prepared dandelion green dishes that have impressed many skeptical dinner guests.
I like dandelion greens, but my favorite parts of the plants to eat are the bright flowers. Kids know how much fun they are to play with, but their flavor holds as much enjoyment as their color. With them, my wife makes a tasty marmalade. My kids gobble up dandelion-flower fritters. We just batter and fry the newly opened yellow flower heads. And try the recipe below for cheery muffins whose splashes of yellow are sure to impress company.
Dandy-muffins
INGREDIENTS
2 cups white flour
2 tsps. baking powder
½ tsp. salt
1 ½ cups milk (Milk substitutes are fine.)
¼ cup maple syrup
¼ cup vegetable or canola oil
1 egg
½ cup black walnuts (optional)
1 cup dandelion flowers (Pull the yellow flower from the green receptacle. Discard the green, and keep only the yellow ray florets. Fluff to loosen before measuring.)
Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees. In large bowl, combine dry ingredients (including flowers).
In separate bowl, mix milk, maple syrup, and oil. Beat egg into wet mixture. Add liquid ingredients to dry ingredients. Pour mixture into greased muffin tins. Bake for 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.