Go Ahead And Mow Yours, But I'll Eat Mine

My neighbors might be unhappy with me next year. I won't be mowing my grass again. I didn't mow it for most of this year, but that wasn't by design. From now on, though, it will be very deliberate. I may toss out a peace offering and mow the quarter-acre out there beside the road. Appearances, and all that. But the floodplain around the creek and the mountainside behind the house? Those weeds may get a good whacking in the fall, but as long as their active growing season lasts, they get a free pass from me to just do their thing.

The land around my rescue is verdant and lush with all manner of edible and medicinal plants. I didn't know this until I failed to mow for the last half of the summer, and just let nature have its way. Goldenrod and dandelion, Joe Pye weed, Queen Anne's Lace, jewelweed, ironweed, burdock, curly dock, and chicory--it's all here, waiting for harvest and use.

Goldenrod gets a bad rap. Many people blame it for allergies, but the truth is that goldenrod pollen is too large and heavy to become airborne like ragweed pollen. In fact, consumption of goldenrod can actually inhibit allergic response by alleviating inflammation of the mucous membranes. Goldenrod is also therapeutic for kidney and urinary tract issues, again behaving as an anti-inflammatory and antiseptic. Dandelion is another common weed with health benefits. The entire plant is edible. I have brewed gallons of strong goldenrod tea this summer and cut it by half with dandelion root tea. I mix in a little honey and it's not only tolerable and good for me, but it's downright delicious.

By itself, goldenrod tea is bitter. It's bright yellow and pungent. Dandelion root tea is much more pale and mild. Honey flavoring would overwhelm it. I boil goldenrod flowers and leaves until they've darkened, strain the liquid though a coffee filter and let it cool a bit. I then boil two or three chopped, scrubbed dandelion roots until they're soft and sweet, strain the tea and add it to the goldenrod. Usually, I season the boiled roots and eat them as a snack. They're a little potato-y, and not bitter at all when cooked.

Here's a look at some of the other plants growing on my mountain.

Chicory grows wild here in Appalachia--everywhere. Roadsides, mountains, floodplains...it's a very opportunistic plant. Most people have heard of chicory coffee, but don't associate that with all the blue flowers in the meadow. Chicory has a reputation of being very bitter, and one taste of an uncooked root will confirm that.

But chicory root chips toasted until dark and crispy lose that trademark bitterness. Chicory contains inulin, which is an type of fiber known as an oligosaccharide. Inulin is bitter until caramelized, and then it behaves more like a sugar. I've jerked dozens of chicory plants up by the roots this year, toasted the tarnatation out of them, then boiled them into a beverage. Chicory has a wonderful aroma, and the teas or coffees brewed from it are not only tasty, but healthy. It's high in Vitamin C and has potent prebiotic properties.

Joe Pye weed (pictured above) grows in majestic clumps on the hill behind my house. This is the first year I've seen it since living here--perhaps because this is the first year I've let the wildflowers bloom. Joe Pye weed has been used for centuries to prevent rheumatism and all manner of internal stones, including gallbladder and kidney. I haven't yet brewed a tea with this plant, but it's next on my list.

One of my absolute favorites species growing here is jewelweed. It's not recommended for consumption, but when used as a poultice, it has powerful anti-fungal and antiseptic properties. It's also the best natural remedy for poison oak and poison ivy irritation, outperforming many drugstore products. It frequently grows near poison oak, making it handy to grab and smear the juices on a fresh exposure. This will often mitigate local skin reactions. If irritation does develop, a warm poultice made of boiled leaves and juices from this plant not only offers comfort, but also healing effects.

And let's not forget the fact that jewelweed is a very lovely plant, with succulent leaves and stems and beautiful bell-shaped yellow and orange flowers.

I didn't even get into the docks. I've uprooted and eaten all the burdock on my property, which means I couldn't get a picture of it today. I found one or two remaining curly dock rosettes--a plant closely related to rhubarb--but they weren't in ideal condition for photographs. I've eaten almost every dock on the entire seven acres that can be accessed on foot. Curly dock is bitter so it must be boiled, drained, boiled again, then sauteed with flavoring, which for me is balsamic vinegar and seasoned salts. I add dandelion greens to the second boiling and eat the mixture over cornbread like some eats collards. To me, the taste is much milder than turnip greens, collards, mustard greens, or spinach, and every bit as healthy.

So no, I won't be mowing the yard next year. But I might be able to help with that poison ivy rash, or brew you up a steaming mug of dandelion tea. Chances are, whatever ails you has a cure growing somewhere on my mountain.