Springtime after a barren cold winter can seem like a time of plenty, and along with the wild ungulates and domestic bovines, you can usually find me out “grazing” in warm meadows. The often persecuted and despised dandelion is one of my favorites. Researchers have identified this amazing herb as one of the most nutrient-dense and vitamin-loaded plants worldwide. How it stacks up against common greens grown in your garden, like spinach and kale: it is loaded with multiple times more Vitamins A, C, and K, folate, calcium, and potassium, to name a few. The entire plant from bloom to root can be utilized, and it is thought that dandelions traveled to the New World with colonizers because of the amazing abilities this plant has to adapt and grow in a great variety of soils and climates. One of the earliest and most prolific herbs to peak in spring, it provided early and often for those who gather their foods.
One of my favorite preparations is sautéed blossoms. This quick, easy, and simple snack has a deep history within my family, and I have found it indeed has traveled from the Old World to the New with the immigration of my family over a hundred years ago. First, ensure that your source of dandelions is clean and not sprayed with herbicides, as this is a common “pest” and high on the hit list of many. Roadsides and dog parks are also common no-go zones for obvious reasons. Fortunately, the abundance of meadows in the Gunnison Valley where dandelions grow and thrive are numerous.
Carefully pluck the blossom, taking as little of the stem as possible (as it has much more bitter flavor stored within). I seek out tall shoots as they usually offer larger diameter and cleaner blossoms with less dirt within the petals. I get excited for “trophy” blooms! A quick tap rids each golden beauty of any small bugs or pollinators. The cleaner the blossom, the better the snack. Once I have a quart or two picked, I give them a gentle rinse under cool tap water, then let them soak in their cool bath for a half hour to remove fine dirt, sand, and grass clippings. It’s sometimes necessary to drain, rinse, and repeat a few times, especially if rains have not been frequent enough to do this part for you before you picked them.
Next, drain the flowers, let them sit a few minutes, and transfer back into a bowl. I add some milk and toss them around a bit. Then I season flour and cornmeal with salt and pepper. Taking flowers from the milk bath, I go straight to the flour mix and then into a skillet or sauté pan with just enough oil to coat the bottom. Cook to your desired doneness, as you really can’t get this part wrong. They can be eaten in any state of doneness, from barely brown to very crispy. Once removed, plate on paper towels to catch any oil drips and add salt and pepper to taste.
Growing up in farm country, I often heard my grandparents talk of “spring tonic,” and their knowledge of plants that provided a much-needed boost to their diets was simply amazing. How I wish I had paid more attention. But this well-traveled little herb was one of the ones that stuck with me—and always will—as it grows across the continent. No matter where you go, it is usually found wherever your boots take you.
