Shopping The Lawn

The pink tinged blob wheedled its way onto the lawn, nudging aside the clover. It looked like the answer to a children’s puzzle where two obviously related items like a shoe and sock were grouped with a unicorn. Then, the puzzle solver was challenged to identify the misfit.

A unicorn blossomed on my lawn.

Unicorn Identified As A Chicken

Poking the lawn blob with my index finger, I expected it to give like the midriff roll I struggled to lose. Surprisingly the firm flesh resisted the pressure. The smooth surface formed an oblong disk. A central core attached it to the earth.

Using my keen deductive skills (It wasn’t crab grass or a dandelion.) I determined it to be fungus. A mushroom had populated property where a white ash, that had succumbed to the emerald ash borer, had once grown.

Since the extent of my mushroom identification knowledge encompassed hunting the baby portabellas on sale in Mariano’s produce section (and those were labeled) I sent a photo of the blob to my neighbor, Betsy, who foraged for mushrooms. 

“Chicken of the woods,” Betsy announced as she squatted over the blob that became more interesting to me with a name. “They’re delicious.”

After assuring me that “chicken” was definitely not poisonous, she suggested that I let it be for a while then harvest it.

I followed Betsy’s advice and let it be, but I failed to let the idea of random edible flora erupting on its own, be. What else grew right under my nose that I overlooked and mowed? I walked the lawn and scrutinized the possibilities.

Dandelion, The Versatile Bee Weed

Dandelion splotches dotted the backyard. My practice of not treating the lawn for weeds grew from a concern for bees. Those critters needed these spring flower oases for survival. My diversified lawn (a euphemism for a lawn gone amok) offered a “bee banquet.” I’ve heard of dandelion wine. What else could be made from “lion’s tooth” I wondered. 

A quick search revealed that all of the dandelion’s parts could be consumed in some way. Dandelion vinegar, tea, cupcakes and even soap utilized the sunny flowers. The jagged leaves offered iron, calcium, and an alphabet of vitamins to diners who collected and sautéed the toothed greens. The root, dried, chopped, roasted, and boiled, yielded a caffeine-free coffee substitute.

With trowel in hand, I harvested a basketful of these herby weeds. Soon I’d be sipping dandelion tea with my dandelion cupcakes after washing my hands with dandelion soap.

Purslane, The International Weed Food

A low growing succulent lawn invader spidered in the drought. Using the appropriately named app, “Plant Identifier,” I identified it as common purslane. Prodded on by the purslane’s abundance, I researched its uses.

Though not as versatile as dandelion, it, too, could be eaten raw, sautéed, and boiled. The Turkish tossed it into salads, the Egyptians treated it like spinach, and the Portuguese stirred it into soup. 

While snipping the tips, I planned an international menu featuring Turkish salad and Portuguese soup with a side of Egyptian greens – a meatless Monday meal.

Everyday Epiphany

Purslane tips crowded dandelion leaves and roots in a rustic basket. It could have been a Whole Foods ad, but all I saw were tasks, endless tasks, added to my “To Do” list which rarely morphed into a “Done It” list. I envisioned “Learn how to make soap” and “Construct drying rack” elbowing out “Clean bird feeders” and “Create Shutterfly Italy vacation album” (tasks that I respectively needed and wanted to do).

I could support craft soap makers at farmers’ markets and buy dandelion soap. Why would I make it?

I enjoyed caffeine. Why would I dry dandelion roots to make a noncaffeinated breakfast beverage?

My habitual “I can do that” thinking answered the whys. Whenever an idea mildly interested me, it led to biting off more than I can chew situations. I needed to reel myself in with careful consideration as to which envelopes I pushed. 

I tossed the organic soap and noncaffeinated beverage ingredients into the yard waste bin. 

A week or so later, the chicken of the woods blob ripened to harvest stage. Fingering the slightly wrinkled mushroom, I admired the coral fans.

I could pluck this guy and have it as an appetizer tonight, I thought. It would be too much for one dinner, so I’d freeze the rest. What’s a tasty chicken of the woods recipe? How do you properly freeze mushrooms. I could do this!

. . . but I really didn’t want to. 

“Hi, Betsy,” I texted. “The chicken of the woods is ready. Come and help yourself.”

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