Dandelions’ adaptability makes them one of my favorite cooking greens.  They are tasty raw (or perhaps slightly wilted with a warm bacon vinaigrette), lightly sauteed with some hot pepper flakes, or slow cooked southern style, braised for hours with a smokey ham hock.  They are one of the few greens that are both delicate and bold at the same time — their strong slightly bitter taste is offset by their delicate texture, making them supremely well-rounded.  Young swiss chard sometimes falls into this category, but overall dandelions are in a category of their own.

I feel a bit “off” in my seasonality as of late.  Between the international move,  massive amounts of work, and hosting out of town guests, I haven’t visited the farmer’s market in nearly a month.  I am having a hard time remembering if dandelion greens are typically available year round or only during the spring.  The bunch I bought from Whole Foods was lush and fresh looking, but to be honest, I have no idea where it came from — California, Peru, Turkey, Mexico — something that is usually an important factor to me in my food shopping.  Though I am a bit critical of myself for not knowing this information, part of me says that this is just one of those times when as my sister says, “people need to live their lives”.  It’s important to keep food issues in the forefront of one’s mind and work towards a more ecologically sustainable system, but it’s also important that one not become obsessed and single-minded and miss the joy of a caringly prepared dish, even if out of season.

But hold on a minute while I put my soap box away on the other side of the room…

This gratin comes together in no time, and the simplicity of its ingredients belies its complex taste.  The secret ingredient here is the nutmeg — not enough and the dish is a bit flat, but add too much and that’s all you taste.  Err on the side of too little, and sprinkle a bit over the top as a garnish if you feel like it is missing something.  It’s a particularly nice dish since the bottom is quiche-like, while the top is pure gratin with crispy breadcrumbs and bubbly cheese.  And it even reheats well!

On a different note, with Thanksgiving leftovers just a stone’s throw away, a nice adaptation of this dish would be to use shredded cooked turkey (dark meat is preferable) in place of the cooked chicken.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Chicken and Dandelion Greens Gratin

1 large bunch dandelion greens, about 1 1/4 lbs, cleaned and stems removed
3 small boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (about 10-12 oz)
2 T. butter, divided
1 T. flour
1 cup whole milk
1/8 t. nutmeg
2 eggs
1/4 c. breadcrumbs
~1/2 c. shaved parmesan cheese (to taste)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees, and grease a 2 qt. casserole dish or 9 inch pie plate.

Blanch dandelion greens in a large pot of boiling water.  Boil for about 6 minutes, then drain, run under cold water, and squeeze out excess moisture.  Finely chop greens and set aside.

Season chicken with salt and pepper.  Heat 1 T. butter in a medium skillet over medium-high heat, then add chicken and saute until browned, about 5-7 minutes.  Transfer chicken to a small bowl and set aside.

In the same skillet, melt the other 1 T. butter, then sprinkle flour over it.  Whisk with a fork until smooth and cook for another 1 minute or so.  Slowly add the milk and whisk until smooth, taking care to scrape up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan and incorporate it all into the sauce.  Add the nutmeg, and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Reduce heat to low and cook until thickened, about 5 minutes.  Remove from heat, then stir in the greens and mix well.  Add the eggs, gently breaking the yolks and whites as you fold them into the greens mixture.

Transfer the greens to the prepared baking dish.  Sprinkle the chicken and any accumulated juices over the top of the greens, and gently press it into the mixture.  Sprinkle the bread crumbs over the surface, then top with cheese.  Bake uncovered for about 20 mintutes until the cheese is bubbling and the breadcrumbs are golden.  If after 20 minutes the cheese isn’t bubbly or the breadcrumbs browned, broil for 1-2 minutes.  Enjoy!

Still Hungry?  Try one of these:

- Wilted Dandelion Greens with Garlic and Pecans

- Slivered Dandelion Greens with Chorizo

- Potato Gratin with Caramelized Fennel and Leek

Slivered Dandelion Greens with Chorizo

1 bunch of dandelion greens, any unappetizing-looking stalks removed (or substitute collard greens)
~ 1T. olive oil
1/2 of a medium onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 – 1/2 t. red pepper flakes, to taste
4 oz of dry chorizo, cut into small pieces

Stack the dandelion greens and cut into 1/4 to 1/2 inch ribbons.
Heat olive oil in a skillet or chef’s pan over medium high heat. When oil is hot, add onions and garlic and saute for about 1 minute. Add dandelion greens and saute for 2-3 minutes, until greens are wilted. Stir in red pepper flakes and chorizo and saute for an additional 2 minutes. Enjoy!

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Whether foraged from the backyard or purchased at the farmer’s market, dandelion greens occupy a special place in my heart during the spring. Their bitter bite enlivens my palate and makes sweetness even sweeter. Dandelion greens rarely slink quietly into the background as spinach or swiss chard sometimes does — they announces their presence with bravado and flair — love them or hate them, dandelions are one of spring’s most unique offerings.

I purchased this bunch of dandelion greens from the High Ground Organics stand at the Mountain View Farmer’s market this past weekend. These, along with some strawberries, young fava beans, fresh eggs, and green garlic were the finds of the day. Wandering through the market I felt both peaceful and at ease, grateful to live in such a bountiful food shed, and also happy to be supporting my local economy.

Such is not the case as of late in other parts of the world. In Egypt, Bangladesh, and Haiti (and other places too), people are rioting due to the skyrocketing cost of food staples — rice and wheat in particular — due much in part to the export of commodity crops for consumption in the western world. In the past year alone the price of wheat has risen 120%, and in the past TWO MONTHS, the price of rice has risen 70%. According to this CNN article, a 2-kilo bag of rice in Bangladesh now consumes half the daily income of a poor family. Really, just TRY to imagine that — imagine that your food needs for the day cost HALF of your salary — take your yearly salary, drop the ‘thousands’, and divide in half; this is roughly your ‘hourly’ rate; now multiply that times 4, and that is how much a bag of rice would cost you — imagine a five pound bag of rice that costs $50 or $100 or $200. It is, of course, impossible to make an apples to apples comparison here, but I still find this little exercise very alarming.

But what can I do? My answer to this is to opt out of the broken, industrial food and energy system of America. Small actions like buying locally, using less fuel (ride a bike, ride a motorcycle instead of a car, buy a hybrid, convert your diesel car to run on vegetable oil), eating less meat, eating less processed food, and even simply becoming more informed can all make a difference. By simply being mindful of your consumption and of the waste you produce, it is possible to become much more aware of how connected we all are.

One of the things I mentioned above was the idea of eating less meat — many of us are quite used to having meat at every meal and also that it is the centerpiece of the plate. This recipe highlights the idea that meat need not be the centerpiece of a meal — a few small bites of potent, garlicky chorizo add a lot of flavor to this dish (and satisfy my carnivorous partner’s desire for daily meat). Alongside the dandelion greens I served a hearty portion of skillet roasted celeraic and potatoes (recipe to follow soon), a sectioned cara-cara orange, and a glass of Spanish Rioja for a satisfying meal (with only about 1 oz of meat per person). (Also note, the dandelion greens wouldn’t suffer if you omitted the chorizo — just add a little extra oil, garlic, and pepper flakes for some additional kick — a lovely vegan side dish, in my opinion).

I would love to hear what YOU think about the global food shortages, and also what you think the role of meat is in our diets — are you vegetarian? vegan? complete carnivore? ethical omnivore?

Still Hungry?  Try one of these:

- Wilted Dandelion Greens with Garlic and Pecans

- Collard Greens with Spaghetti

Wilted Dandelion Greens with Garlic and Pecans

1 bunch dandelion greens, center ribs removed if large
1/4 c. pecans
2.5 T olive oil
4-5 garlic cloves, minced
1 small shallot, minced (optional)
2 T apple cider vinegar
Salt & Pepper

Coarsely chop dandelion greens and place in a serving bowl.

Toast pecans in a dry skillet over medium-high heat until fragrant, about 5-6 minutes. Remove from pan and coarsely chop.

Heat oil in skillet. Once it’s hot, add garlic and shallots (if using) and cook for 3-4 minutes. Add pecans and stir to coat. Remove skillet from heat and add apple cider vinegar. Mix dressing, then pour over dandelion greens, along with a generous pinch of both salt and pepper, then toss to coat. The hot vinaigrette will slightly wilt the greens. Enjoy!

To make this into a main dish, simply add a sliced hard-cooked egg on top of the dandelion salad. Serve with some good crusty bread, a small bowl of soup or other side dish, and a glass of white wine for a light meal. (Shown below with Ever-So-Slightly-Sweet Mashed Turnips)

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A new twist on an old saying — one woman’s weed is another woman’s dinner.

It’s true, I really enjoy eating a few plants that are typically thought of as weeds — dandelion greens, sorrel, purslane, and mint, to name a few. Though sorrel is probably my favorite of the ‘weeds’, dandelion greens are a close second. They have a lot of body — more than spinach, less than chard — and have a pleasant bitterness to them, a little like chicory.

Sometimes dandelion greens are cooked like traditional southern collard greens — long and slow with plenty of bacon and onion. This method reduces the bitterness of the greens substantially, and is one of many delicious ways to prepare dandelion. A favorite method of mine is quite the opposite to this long, slow simmer — the greens are served almost raw, wilted only by a hot vinaigrette. When you’ve only got a few minutes, or you want to highlight the bitter character of the greens, this is a great way to go.

Bitter greens are a bit of an acquired taste, but once acquired, it’s hard to imagine the culinary world without them. Just as it’s hard to know happiness without knowing sorrow, it’s hard to know sweetness without exploring bitterness. Plus, broadening your palette is rarely a bad thing.

Dandelion greens are often available at the farmer’s market, and they’re showing up more and more in natural foods stores and boutique groceries. It’s also possible to forage for your own dandelion greens, BUT BE CAREFUL, since dandelions are often sprayed with toxic weed killers etc. Unless you can guarantee the plants haven’t been sprayed, I’d recommend leaving them alone and going for cultivated dandelion from the market.

Still Hungry?  Try one of these:

- Simplest Tomato Sauce with Roasted Onion, Shallots and Garlic