Dandelion Wine: make some booze with those beautiful weeds!

When I was a little girl, I spent almost every weekend with my Nonno Emilio. His wife, my babcia Mary had died a year before I was born. So I never knew her. But I had him. And he was like a mix of all the best of grandmas and grandpas put together.

He passed on the old country ways; how to prayer the rosary in dialect, and do it right — under flickering candlelight. How to build what you needed with wood, how to identify plants and flowers on our long summer evening walks. Mostly, he taught me how to be in connection with the land. His hands were always covered in soil. It was only in the winter, in snow covered, freezing upstate NY where we grew up—that he had clean/soil free hands.

His garden, though I didn’t know it then, was reminiscent of the way things were grown in the old country. There was always an abundance of fennel for the greens, malanzana, pomodori, cipolli, — all the good stuff. Next to the garden was a big stone shrine, a grotto-like situation right there in the front yard. He built it of course and in the center of it was a huge statue of Our Lady, La Madonna. At night it became a fountain and it lit right up. It felt like magic; between that, the crickets and the lightening bugs.

He loved wine. And he loved to make wine. He also made bitters and cordials — any plant he could get his hands on he’d figure out how to ferment it into spirits. His basement was his alchemy lab with big bottles and tubes and lots of jugs of homemade liquor. One of things he was kinda famous for making was dandelion wine. He’d send me out to the yard with a basket and tell me to fill it up. I’d deliver it back to him in his basement lab and we’d pick the petals off (he used the greens and roots in his bitters) and he’d tell me stories about when he was young and in love with my grandma— a proper woman, a polish woman… not Italian (can you imagine! she’s the one part of my blood that is NOT Italian) And we would put the petals in boiling water with sugar and…. and then eventually… he had wine.

I don’t have the amazing hand made and configured set up my grandfather had in his basement. But I do have a yard full of dandelions. And a more simple recipe to share.

The other day I lit a candle for my grandpa and asked him to guide me through these times, to help me know how to mothers these girls in lock down for Covid-19. I mean, he survived WW1, The Spanish Flu, immigration, the Depression, WWII– he knew how to show up and do what was needed in the times of trouble. And then all of a sudden, all I could think of was dandelions.

This is how our ancestors talk through us. It was like he was saying to me “turn to the land”. He was saying to me: remember how simple things could be, how easily we could feed ourselves, how we can get back on rhythms of the seasons again. I am learning how to be in these times. I am showing my girls how to be in them. I remembering how delicious life can be even when the shit is really hitting the fan.

So. I wanted to share this dandelion wine recipe with you before you 1. decide to mow that lawn! and 2. to invite you to look right outside and see the abundance and the nourishment given to us from the soil. and 3. hope you can find a connection to your ancestors through making this wine, too!

This wine has a warm, sweet, grounded tastes. You can leave some of the greens on it if you want a little bitter it in.

It’s truly the easiest thing in the world to do (this is the easy recipe, not my grandpa’s).

1. Gather 4 cups of dandelion tops (when you do, say thank you to the earth, offer up a little prayer of gratitude)

2. Put them in a heat proof pot (I love my vintage La Creuset)

3. Pour about 8-9 cups of boiling water over them and cover it with a lid.

4. Wait 5-10 hours for it ti infuse.

5. Strain the flowers out

6. Boil the liquid that was strained (cast a spell for delight, protection and joy over the boiling infusion)

7. While liquid is boiling, put 2 cups of sugar in a big ball jar and cut some slices of lemons and oranges

8. When liquid comes to a pour, pour liquid in the jar with sugar. Throw the citrus slices in.

9. Put a lid on the jar and store that jar in a cool place for 2-3 weeks.

10. Pick it up every other day and give it a shake of love.

11. After 2-3 weeks, enjoy a glass!!

 saluti!