I could not resist the fried blossoms. I sent my children out to the yard, even though the recent downpour had sort of pulverized the dandelions. What children don't like to pick flowers? And what children don't like to make a real contribution to the adult world? Genevieve and Ben were in raptures. Since then, Ben keeps bringing me fistfuls of limp dandelion heads, beaming with purpose and pleasure. I find the piles everywhere and I am charmed.
I've never fried anything batter-dipped before, so I wasn't sure what I was aiming for; I think my batter was a bit thin, so I ended up with little fritters with my sodden flowers instead of puffy individual flowers. But! the little fritters were fantastic (especially, like all fried things, with cocktail sauce).
Actually, it was a fabulous meal: pasta salad with oranges, asparagus, feta and mint, plus some cold broiled salmon with rosemary from my mother in law (everything looks better on a robin's egg blue plate - especially peachy colored things).
Nobody asked about dessert. Should I roast and dry some dandelion roots now, to brew like as a coffee substitute? Hey, if the economy crashes any further, we may be grateful for such quixotic tricks.