Dandelion Tea Prose
I wanted a cup of dandelion tea. Sounded sweet and simple, until I wondered if I preferred tea made from the blossoms, leaves, or roots—the roots roasted, or not.
Reminded me of the foreigner arriving in New York City, not knowing a word of English, getting hungry. He formulated a plan: follow someone into a restaurant, and if what they ordered looked good, try ordering the same thing himself. Things went quite well, as he listened to the folks ahead of him order bean soup; it looked appetizing, and smelled good. “What will you have?” “Bea-n Sou-p, pl-ease!” He enjoyed eating it that meal… and ordered it the next meal, and the next. Now he wanted anything but bean soup. He got in line, unknowingly behind regulars — who placed a ham sandwich order. He didn’t understand a word anyone said, and waited to see what showed up. The sandwich looked very appetizing, and a whole lot different from bean soup. When it was his turn, he repeated in his best English, “Ha-m Sa-nd-wi-ch, please!” “Plain or rye?” “…??? … ??? … … Bea-n Sou-p, please.”
Blossoms? Leaves?? Or, roots??? Well, I made dandelion tea using the whole plant!