Maybe it was simply a day of firsts.
As I was lunching al fresco for the first time this year, having savored our first asparagus of the season (which I’d sautéed with minced garlic leaf in olive oil and then fried two eggs atop the mixture), I realized I was still hungry. So glancing up, I noticed a sprout of dandelion, got up, plucked a leaf, brought it to the table, wiped it in some of the remaining egg yolk, and … it was good. It was very good. Somehow, the yolk overcame whatever bitterness I expected at the end of the bite.
So I harvested the remainder of that cluster (which also doubled as weeding, let’s be candid), went indoors to rinse it and fry another egg to serve with it, covered the resulting salad with salt and coarse-ground fresh pepper … and it was still good. Very good.
So for dinner, another round, this time with a fresh mustard vinaigrette my wife had just made … and it was still good. Very good.
Maybe I’m hooked. Yes, we’ve read some fine food writers who’ve extolled their pleasure in fresh dandelion every spring, before the leaves turn too bitter and too tough. Until now, though, our dandelions were treasured only by our pet rabbits.
Not anymore. Another first.
Now, to see how it works blanched. Or maybe as a spinach substitute, say in a Florentine-style dish.
Not that I have any intention of turning the Red Barn into a food blog. Oh, no. I know my limitations.
Jnana's Red Barn 
Granpa used to make dandelion wine every year – never did aquire a taste for it, but we had to drink it in the warm weather, no matter! I was served it in a shot glass starting at age 10.
Good Post