plantago

Plantago is a common weed found in lawns, meadows, and sidewalk cracks. Its common name, plantain, is a misnomer, as it is not related to the plantain (in the banana family) or the plantain lily (Hosta), though the leaves of the broadleaf variety (Plantago major) do resemble those of hosta.

Plantago grows from a fibrous taproot that produces basal rosette leaves and seed stalks from April through October. When young, all parts of the plant are tender and edible. By midsummer, the leaves toughen and require cooking to render them edible and the mature stalks are too fibrous to eat. An advantage of allowing plantago to grow in the lawn is that mowing curtails seed production, forcing the plant to continuously produce new seed stalks that are tender, nutty, and buttery when only a few inches tall.

Medicinally, plantago is a powerhouse, used as an emollient, astringent, antimicrobial, antiviral, antitoxin, diuretic, demulcent, and vulnerary. When taken internally as a tea, it lowers blood sugar and treats lung and stomach disorders. Externally, as a poultice, it treats sores, burns, stings, rashes, and insect bites.

left: Embryonic seeds on a tender stalk of Plantago major growing in the lawn.

right: The mature seed stalks of the narrow-leaf variety (Plantago lanceolata) can be harvested and roasted for a delicious, nutty treat. When soaked, the seeds become mucilaginous (particularly those of P. phsyllium) and are used to in fiber supplement products.

scallop milkweed curry

I found some old photos of my very first garden. I was taken aback by how pristine it looked– perfect rows, not a weed in sight. I remember how diligent I was back then. A lot has changed.

I used to think that if I was going to put the time, work and expense into cultivating a patch of earth, that I had the right to choose what could live there– the freeloaders had plenty of other options. Despite my democratic world views, any semblances of egalitarianism were firmly checked at the garden gate.

Over the years, I've made peace with the weeds. Mostly, I grew tired of feeling defeated. But the softening could also be attributed to a newfound appreciation that runs parallel with an accumulation of life lessons:

Life Lesson Cliche #1: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade (or better yet, wine). I've always collected tender, young dandelion leaves for salads and such, but this year it was gratifying to utilize the blossoms for dandelion wine.

Life Lesson Cliche #2: Pick your battles (aka Parental Survival Tactic #1). I still pull dandelions out of the lawn, but I leave the more tenacious clover for 'textural character'.

Life Lesson Cliche #3: You can't turn a sow's ear into a silk purse (don't believe it). Even fierce and hostile stinging nettles can be transformed into an elegant and refined soup.

Life Lesson Cliche #4: Shit happens (deal with it). On the morning of an important dinner that I had planned down to the last detail, I went to the rock garden to harvest newly planted cultivars of oxalis that I had purchased for the occasion, only to find that they had been loped off by an animal. The common yellow-flowered oxalis that proliferates everywhere came to the rescue and no one was the wiser.

Life Lesson Cliche #5: Stop and smell the roses (and the weeds). While working in the yard one night, I caught a whiff of a sultry, sweet scent that I couldn't identify. I followed it to a patch of tall plants with large allium-like flowers with a captivating scent that I later identified as milkweed. Though I didn't know what they were then, I instantly recognized the leaves as being the same weed that I had been pulling out of the vegetable garden for years. To make up for my indiscretion, I gave milkweed a place of honor in my flower garden. And because it's edible, it's also welcome in the vegetable garden.

Regarding weeds, the best lesson is: If you can't beat 'em, eat 'em.

scallop ceviche

milkweed

cucumber

curry

salad burnet

milkweed

Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) is often viewed as a weed because of its tenacious and invasive tendencies. Others categorize it as a beneficial wildflower as it is an important source of nectar for bees, moths, and hummingbirds and it is the only plant that hosts the entire life cycle of the monarch butterfly.

Milkweed gets its name from the sticky white sap that it excretes. The sap is composed of latex, alkaloids, and cardiac glycoside which is toxic to livestock, but is used by the monarch butterfly as a clever defense system.

Despite the potentially harmful sap, milkweed is well documented as an edible wild food. Foragers regard the young spring shoots as a delicacy. The leaves, flowers, and young pods are all edible and abundant. The sap can be drawn out by blanching in boiling water.

Although I haven't tried the leaves, I can attest that the young pods (harvested at 1-2" long) are quite delicious. When blanched, they have a nice crunch and mild green apple-meets-cucumber flavor. The flowers have a pleasant sweet taste and were once used by indigenous people to make a type of sugar.