The dandelion, eons old and the bane of every lawn fanatic’s existence, is most probably original to Asia in our prehistory, although it had naturalized extensively by the time we slithered onto terra firma, and was introduced into North America with grave purpose by our earliest settlers as a fantastic source of nutritious sustenance. A member of the Compositae family, the dandelion’s botanical name derives from the Greek taraxos, “disorder,” and akos, “remedy,” signaling a clear panacea-like reputation, and in Greek mythology, Hecate, goddess of sorcery, famously fed Theseus, hero of Athens, dandelions for an entire month to bulk him up before his hand-to-hand with the Minotaur.
“Dandelion” originates in the Greek leontodon, which permuted into the old French dent de lion, both meaning “lion’s tooth,” in reference to this food plant’s jaggedy-edged leaf form. Folk names for the dandelion truly are dandy, yielding up such other tasty morsels as “blow ball,” for its signature seedhead and “piss-a-bed,” from the French pis-en-lit, for its legendary diuretic qualities. The truth is, this pesky turf nemesis is not only nature’s richest source of cancer-fighting Beta-carotene, but has the highest Vitamin A content of any green thing on the planet, while also containing impressive amounts of Vitamins D, B, and C, iron, magnesium, potassium, zinc, manganese, copper, and phosphorus, as well as taraxacin, terpenoids, choline, and inulin.
All this makes the lowly dandelion about as-good-as-it-gets for you: the sap, leaves, and root extracts all being recommended as diuretics, to aid digestion, stimulate bile production, treat liver disorders, and help prevent cancer and high blood pressure, and the root also being considered a powerful detoxifier, accelerating the removal of adverse elements from the body. Every part of this remarkably nutritious plant is edible (as long as it hasn’t been subject to chemical or pesticidal spraying!): the young leaves exemplary as a salad green, and also lovely sautéed like spinach. The roots peeled, sliced, blanched, then sautéed are excellent, the young buds fried in butter are a piquant treat, but my favorite for its moniker alone is “yard squid”: cut young dandelion rosettes below the ground with enough of the root to keep the leaves intact, wash well, blanch, dry, dip in a thin egg/milk solution, roll in spiced bread crumbs, and fry. You will never curse your lawn again.
A member of the Portulacaceae family, purslane, also known as “Pigweed,” “Little Hogweed,” and “Pusley,” is believed to be antiquely indigenous to India and the Middle East, although, somewhat mystifyingly, there now seems to be conclusive evidence dating its presence in the New World to a moment prior to 1492. Hippocrates, in the fourth-century B.C., Dioscorides in the first-century A.D., and Galen in the second-century, all regarded purslane as an important “cooling” herb for fever, dysentery, stomach ailments, hemorrhoids, and wounds, and Pliny the Elder was so impressed by purslane’s healing properties, he advised that wearing the plant as an amulet would “expel all evil.”
Pliny had his point as we now know purslane contains a whopping six times more vitamin E than spinach, seven times more beta-carotene than carrots, is nicely rich in vitamins A, B, and C, riboflavin, potassium, magnesium, phosphorus, calcium, and iron, and boasts the potent antioxidants glutathione, alpha-tocopherol, and two types of betalain alkaloid pigments, all offering significant benefits in the treatment of high cholesterol and triglyceride levels, heart disease, and depressed immunity. But, even more importantly, purslane contains more Omega-3 fatty acids than any other leafy vegetable, and is one of the very few plants that contains the long-chain omega-3 ALA (alpha-linolenic acid), with recent studies suggesting that Omega- 3s may have a truly important impact on depression, bipolar disorder, Alzheimer's, autism, schizophrenia, ADD, and migraines.
With thick, succulent, rounded, golden yellow leaves far larger than that crawly, red-stemmed thing in your lawn, Golden Purslane is indeed a brilliant garden presence, and its taste is both lemony and freshly astringent. An easy to grow annual with a compact, mounded habit to about 14 inches, sow in a patch and thin to 8 inches. Pickled purslane was traditionally put up in Europe to be served as a winter sallet, so here I will leave you with our own Martha Washington’s 1749 recipe for it: "Gather ye pursland when it… will snap when you break it. boyle it in a kettle of fayre water without any salt, & when it is tender, make a pickle of salt & water, … & when it is cold, make it pretty sharp with vinegar &cover it…."
