Sunday, May 1, 2011
The lady who eats weeds and takes home garbage continued
For some reason, I was unable to edit my last post, or add the photo I promised. I'll ask you to forgive the misspellings and I'll make another attempt to add the photo! Obviously, it can't be done, at least not tonight. Sorry!
The lady who eats weeds and takes home garbage
Yep, thats me. I earned that nickname when I worked a stint at my nephew's Amoco service station several years ago. The only garbage I took home was the used coffee grounds, but in the Como Avenue neighborhood where I worked, people liked to drink coffee! And when others complained of purslane invading their gardens, I gave them recipes for this nutritious herb. I bellieve it has more omega-3 than fish oil.
Anyway, I'm still at it. Yesterday, digging periennials out of one of our raised beds, my husband lifted out a beautiful green dandelion with a long tap root. "Do you want it?" he asked. He didn't have to ask twice. I soaked it in a pail of water to loosen the dirt while we finished our chores. At supper time I scraped the skin off the root with a potato peeler, sliced the white remains into coins and sauteed them in olive oil with the celery and onions for the hot dish Iwas preparing. I kept a little to the side for a quick taste, as I had only used dandelion leaves before. It was delicious, a bit bitter with a hint of licorice taste. Too much might be overpowering. One nice root was a great addition. The sworl of leaves was so plentiful that I sauteed what was left of them after making salad, and sauteed them as well.
Dandelions in my pesticide free yard have a whole new meaning. Spring is so late this year, that dandelions, chives, and onions that sprouted after I missed picking them last year are all the fresh greens we have had so far. Can't wait for the lamb's quarters!
Easter flowers from the backyard were also scarce this year. Even my hardy forsythia failed to blossom out in time for a table bouquet. On a whim, I cut off a few branches on Saturday and stuck them into a pail of warm water. Lo and behold, the branch burst forth with cheerful yellow flowers by Easter morning!
It was another kind of resurrection! I'll include a photo--the bouquet is one week old today and as perky as it was on Easter morning! The tiny bouquet on the right contains some bulbs that naturlize in my yard and the plant on the left is a succulant gone wild.
Anyway, I'm still at it. Yesterday, digging periennials out of one of our raised beds, my husband lifted out a beautiful green dandelion with a long tap root. "Do you want it?" he asked. He didn't have to ask twice. I soaked it in a pail of water to loosen the dirt while we finished our chores. At supper time I scraped the skin off the root with a potato peeler, sliced the white remains into coins and sauteed them in olive oil with the celery and onions for the hot dish Iwas preparing. I kept a little to the side for a quick taste, as I had only used dandelion leaves before. It was delicious, a bit bitter with a hint of licorice taste. Too much might be overpowering. One nice root was a great addition. The sworl of leaves was so plentiful that I sauteed what was left of them after making salad, and sauteed them as well.
Dandelions in my pesticide free yard have a whole new meaning. Spring is so late this year, that dandelions, chives, and onions that sprouted after I missed picking them last year are all the fresh greens we have had so far. Can't wait for the lamb's quarters!
Easter flowers from the backyard were also scarce this year. Even my hardy forsythia failed to blossom out in time for a table bouquet. On a whim, I cut off a few branches on Saturday and stuck them into a pail of warm water. Lo and behold, the branch burst forth with cheerful yellow flowers by Easter morning!
It was another kind of resurrection! I'll include a photo--the bouquet is one week old today and as perky as it was on Easter morning! The tiny bouquet on the right contains some bulbs that naturlize in my yard and the plant on the left is a succulant gone wild.
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