Dandelions
Looking
back on my childhood in St. Louis on Aubert Avenue, I had many happy
experiences. However, one activity in the early and middle thirties
years that I was not very fond of, was going with my mother and gathering
dandelion greens.
Spring
was usually greeted with enthusiasm by my parents, because it signaled
the season that dandelion greens had arrived. They were a favorite of
my parents. Before we got our car, Henry the blue '37 Ford, which expanded
our dandelion trips, my mother would get big, brown kraft paper bags
and knives, and walk to Fountain Park, which was just a block away from
our house. My mother would take my sister Olympia and me with her. This
was usually in the spring before the yellow flower of the dandelion
had had a chance to bloom and its leaves grow bitter. Dandelions are
an excellent source of vitamin A and some B vitamins. Low in calories,
they contain protein, calcium, iron, sodium, phosphorous and a decent
amount of vitamin C, magnesium and potassium. I believe the feeling
was that the leaves were more tender to eat before the plant had a chance
to flower.
Fountain
Park was an oval shaped park, and it stretched from Aubert Avenue, east
past Euclid Avenue to Bayard Avenue. At the park's widest point, which
was at Euclid Avenue, there was a beautiful fountain with the water
splashing and often overflowing its base. Here the width of the park
was less than a half a block wide. There were beautiful large, brick,
two-story houses flanking each side of the park. The homes had long
front porch verandas.
My
mother would usually walk up and down the park, looking for the tenderest
young plants. When she was satisfied that she had found the best dandelion
greens available, she would take a knife, bend down, cover the tender
young plant with her left hand, grasp it firmly, slice the plant with
her right hand and yank it up out of the ground. She would shake it
gently to get as much dirt out of the leaves as possible; slice off
any of the root that may have remained, and then put the cut plant in
the bag. When my sister and I first started to go with our mother to
gather dandelions, she let us try our hand at pulling up the dandelion
plant out of the ground. I suppose she thought that method was safer
for us than trying to use a knife. However, soon we were promoted to
using a knife also.
Our
dandelion ventures were not restricted just to Fountain Park. My brothers
Platon and Johnny remember going to Forest Park, too, on Kingshighway
and Lindell Boulevards, to gather dandelions. That was after we had
gotten our car Henry. My mother or my sister would drive us, and my
mother would invite several of her friends to come also. The ladies
were quite pleased to be asked to join the adventure, because besides
the opportunity to socialize with each other, the dandelion greens would
be a welcome addition to any meal, and the price was right. It was felt
that in such a large area as Forest Park, there were many more dandelion
greens to be found than in any other local area. Grocery stores did
not sell these greens.
There
was always our standard equipment, big brown kraft paper bags and knives.
With the knife in one hand and the big bag on the ground, the ladies,
with much enthusiasm, cut the dandelion plant, shook off as much dirt
as possible, and placed the leaves in the bag. Johnny recalls playing
in the park as my mother and her friends filled up their bags. When
the bags were full, they got in the car and went home
One
of the things Johnny remembers on those dandelion trips to Forest Park
was the fountain at the entrance to the park on Kingshighway Boulevard.
The fountain had four spouts of water running continuously. If you stopped
up one spout, the other spouts shot up higher. He would plug up three
spouts and the water out of the fourth spout shot up very high. If he
tried to stop all four spouts, the water would squirt out from all four.
He always enjoyed watching the water.
It
wasn't just the women who were interested in gathering dandelion greens.
Platon remembers going with our neighbor, Kyrio Yorgie (Laskaris) who
rented and lived with his family on the second floor of our two-family
flat. Platon recalls going with Kyrio Yorgie on Sunday mornings to the
Delmar Wabash train depot located on Delmar, Kienlen and Skinker Avenues,
bordering the western city limits of St. Louis. The trains went underground
at Delmar Boulevard, but up to that point the sides of the train tracks
were like the side of a small hill; above the incline the ground became
level.
In
the spring this piece of ground was covered by dandelion plants. It
is difficult to determine how or who discovered this site, but Platon
and Kyrio Yorgie, armed with their six to eight brown shopping bags
that had handles,and with their knives,were able to gather and completely
fillup their bags with greens. It was a trip well worth the cost of
the fare for they went by streetcar, riding to the Delmar Wabash train
site. The street car fare was ten cents for adults and five cents for
children, one way. A successful endeavor indeed.
I
was at times apprehensive about collecting dandelions. As I got older,
I became self-conscious of what people passing by would think of us,
women armed with small knives and brown bags, cutting, as far as they
could tell, weeds out of the ground and saving them; middle aged women,
slightly plump, each with her hair pulled back in a tight bun at the
base of the neck, speaking a foreign language. A bunch of small children
running around playing. I was not aware that any other people would
even take a second look at dandelions as food. I hoped that no one who
knew me from school would see me.
When
we got home with our brown bags full of dandelion greens, we had to
wash them carefully, rinsing them several times to get out all the dirt.
Then my mother would boil them.
When
cooked, she would serve them with olive oil and lemon juice. They had
a slight bitter taste, but even so, they were delicious. When I became
an adult, I learned many other people, non-Greeks, knew about dandelions,
and even made wine out of the yellow flower! .
©
2003 by Jennie Constantinides
Vlanton
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