The Teeth of the Lion

I look out on the verdant carpet beside the house and I see golden spots all over it.

Dandelions have arrived, in force. They proliferate in every single patch of grass on our property. This is because they are literally everywhere; they are native to all parts of the temperate zone in the Northern Hemisphere, and have become naturalized throughout the globe, including all 50 United States and most Canadian provinces.

Dandelions, or taxacum officinale, are weeds, certainly. No one in our culture cultivates these opportunistic and hardy little buggers. They are considered to be a blight on the landscape, an annoyingly pervasive yellow interruption in the green sward; they are to be sprayed, treated, tamed, eliminated. Rip them out!

And yet, there is hardly a more useful plant in the kingdom of plantae.

Where to begin about the helpful dandelion? Well, for starters, there are the leaves, or dandelion greens, which give the plant its name. The name "dandelion" is an English corruption of the early French term dent de lion, or tooth of the lion, due to the large jagged serrations on dandelion leaves (certainly not as if that majestic carnivore would be caught dead munching on a weed).

The young tender leaves, as well as the unopened buds, can be eaten in raw in salads. Older leaves can be cooked, like spinach. Their nutritional value is similar to that vegetable, as they are high in vitamin A, vitamin C, calcium, and especially iron (even more than spinach).

Dandelion leaves can also be brewed into beer, enjoyed in many parts of Canada. Other leaf concoctions, such as dandelion tea, have been used by herbalists for centuries to help liver and kidney function. Some of the first mentions of the plant as a medicine are of the use by Arab physicians in the tenth and eleventh centuries.

My maternal grandparents were skilled foragers; my grandmother used to gather dandelion flowers to make wine (also elderberries, but that is another blog). At the time that she was doing this, in the early 1960's, I was too young to taste the beverage that resulted, but all that I can say is that people drank Gram's dandelion wine, seemed to enjoy it, and no one died as a result.

The root of the dandelion also has many uses. When dried, ground and brewed, it can be used as a coffee substitute, especially before meals; apparently it not only tastes good, but it aids digestion, and is a mild stimulant. The root contains a diuretic, which may account for the more current French name for the plant - pissenlit, which literallly means "wet the bed." In Canada, dandelion root is registered as a medicine, for its diuretic properties.

The milky sap of the root has been used as a mosquito repellent.

I have yet to mention the entertainment value of the dandelion, which has provided children everywhere with immense enjoyment. After its life cycle is finished and the plant head has dried out, the little seed stalks, like so many fluffy parachutes, lift out of the dried head and expand into a ball of fluff that can be blown with a puff of air to gently waft away, carrying with them the curatives of centuries, to land and start anew.

My son Spencer was even inspired (and required, as a school assignment) to write a poem about the dandelion, in the fifth grade.

Somewhere around now, I'll bet that you, Gentle Reader, are beginning to feel a little remorseful about your past mistreatment of this noble and healthful plant (I know that I am.) Perhaps you are beginning to respect the lowly dandelion, and wondering if you too can make use of its beneficence.

Well, I for one am ready to go foraging. I can see a whole salad on my lawn.