A weed to some, a culinary tradition to others—how this flavorful plant bridges the gap between generations of Italian-American cooking
I have often recounted to others the vivid memory of my freshman Parents’ Weekend back when I was in college. Visiting my family in their motel, I was surprised to find my first-generation Italian/Sicilian grandfather outside, up the hill from the building on his hands and knees, picking dandelions. “Oh, no, not here,” I remember thinking as a teen—concerned that my new friends would think my family unsophisticated or, even worse, weird. Yet over the years I had grown accustomed to seeing my grandfather pick dandelions not just in his backyard but pretty much anywhere he saw them.
Now, as an adult, I only wish I could see him doing this once more, and I long for how they tasted after he prepared them—faintly bitter like arugula or broccoli rabe, yet sweet from being slowly caramelized in garlic and oil. I also regret not writing down the rest of the dishes he created with those seemingly innocent “weeds.”
These memories also made me ponder: Does anyone else have memories of their Italian grandparents picking these weeds? Do New Jersey restaurants have dandelions on their menus? Or am I just being sentimental about my crazy grandfather, and most people merely consider the dandelion a pesky weed that ruins their garden?
“ANYTHING YOU CAN DO WITH SPINACH, YOU CAN DO WITH DANDELION.”
Dandelion Greens, Italian Roots
My investigation brought me first to Vineland, New Jersey, the self-proclaimed “Dandelion Capital of the World” where they host an annual Dandelion Dinner sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce. Luckily, the spring event had yet to take place so I gave them a call and started my dandelion exploration at their 34th such gathering, on April 4 at Merighi’s Savoy Inn.
The very first thing I noticed when I walked into the Dandelion Dinner was the familiar aroma of an Italian grandparent’s kitchen—garlic, oregano, and tomatoes filled the air. Held in the inn’s banquet room, the event was set up like a wedding—complete with a DJ and dance floor—only here the guest of honor was not a married couple but the humble dandelion.
Before the dinner got underway, I was greeted by Dawn Hunter, executive director of the Greater Vineland Chamber of Commerce, who explained the event’s roots. The dinner started as a festival back in 1973 to promote agriculture in the area. Over the years the event’s popularity has risen and fallen, but Hunter described a peak in the 1980s when, she said, “The mayor, Patrick Fiorilli, marketed Vineland as the ‘Dandelion Capital of the World,’ which gave us a lot of notoriety.”
In 1991 the Chamber took over the event, continuing it annually. Hunter also explained the Italian culture was connected not just to the dinner but also to their town, dating back to late 1800s.
“Vineland is a very Italian area,” she said. “It all started because the founder, Charles K. Landis, went to Italy and advertised that people could come here and own their own property. He had a utopian vision of an agricultural, self-sustaining society where everyone was welcome.” Hunter smiled as she added, “I still see Italian women out in their front yards picking dandelions. I know what they’re doing—not weeding, it’s to eat!”
ITALIAN AMERICANS HAVE EMBRACED THIS SEEMINGLY LOWLY “WEED” TO CREATE ENTICING DANDELION DISHES FOR COUNTLESS GENERATIONS.
A Plentiful Plant
By the time dinner was ready I was eager to see what dishes would be served and what role dandelions would play. On one of the buffet tables sat a large green bowl marked “Dandelion Salad,” surrounded by smaller bowls of toppings: sliced red onions, fresh bacon bits, diced hard-boiled eggs, and grape tomatoes. To the side of the salad was sliced bread swirled with dandelion and cheese—a savory treat that reminded me of Casatiello bread, the rich Italian Easter bread traditionally filled with greens and pancetta or another cured meat. The dandelions in the salad tasted as I remembered, a bit pungent, and combined well with the egg and a sweet red wine vinaigrette.
The main course dishes that included dandelion were decadent dandelion ravioli with a cream sauce, dandelion meatballs, and a chicken dish similar to chicken Florentine, but with a little stronger taste to the greens than usual.
“Anything you can do with spinach, you can do with dandelion, only the weed has more kick and many more vitamins,” said Merighi’s Executive Head Chef Tony Oliva, the culinary mastermind behind the Dandelion Dinner. “I call it Chicken Vesuvius. It’s grilled marinated chicken breast, fresh roasted peppers, sautéed dandelion, provolone cheese, and we use, like, a chicken velouté—a chicken stock sauce with a roux [equal parts butter and flour]. The roasted peppers and sauce erupt down the side like lava.”
Oliva, a first-generation Italian with Neapolitan and Florentine roots, said he thinks the dandelion cheese bread, baked special by Amigos Bakery in Vineland, still “blows people away” as does the ravioli, which they source from Conte’s Pasta in Vineland. Chef Oliva thinks the original dandelion ravioli recipe came from Mayor Fiorilli and a now-lost ravioli cookbook the mayor had published, but the chef also mentions drawing inspiration from an old cookbook, Dandelion & Regional Favorites Recipe Book, published by the Greater Vineland Chamber of Commerce in 1995.
The owner of Merighi’s Savoy Inn, Tom Merighi, whose first-generation Italian grandparents founded the inn in 1954, told me the salad predates any recipe book. “The salad you tasted—bacon, onions, hard-cooked egg—that is the classic from my grandmother, and her parents made it the same way.” He acknowledged that his grandparents may have foraged dandelions for their salads, because they didn’t have much money. Now, though, he stated that Merighi’s dandelions “are locally grown, picked straight from the fields at Petronglo Farms in Vineland.”
While the dandelion greens dominated the savory side of the menu, the desserts at the dinner were mostly traditional (cannoli, biscotti, cookies, etc.). However, I had saved my sample of Bell-view Winery’s Dandelion Wine to have with my cannoli, because it seemed to me like a perfect dessert wine. A few days after the dinner, still curious about the origins of the wine I had enjoyed, I sought out Jim Quarella, whose family founded and now co-owns Bellview Winery in Landisville.
Quarella acknowledged that dandelion wine is a good dessert wine “with tiramisu or a lemon tart.” How he came to brew dandelion wine is—like all the dandelion recipes I’ve been encountering—deeply rooted in tradition. “My great-aunts Ada and Mary [from the Bologna area of Northern Italy] picked the dandelions and brewed the wine every spring just for the family to enjoy. Initially I wasn’t big on making it commercially, but in 2003 my oldest son wanted to honor the family tradition.” The winery now produces a few hundred gallons annually. He recounted how Aunt Ada, soft spoken, reacted upon hearing the news: bursting out “You’re gonna ruin it!” He continued, “but we promised her we’d keep her secret family recipe.”
While careful to not reveal some key ingredients, he hinted at the process (“yellow flowers of the dandelion brewed like tea, some lemons for acidity, some sugar, and alcohol. Can’t tell you any more!”) There are no grapes in the recipe, but like wine it gets better with time. In fact, for Quarella’s 50th birthday, he said, “We found an old bottle from 1958 and drank it—delicious!”
The yellow dandelions used to make Bellview Winery’s Dandelion Wine are sourced wholesale from Petronglo Farm. “It takes about a pound of hand-picked yellow flowers per gallon,” said Quarella. “Picking by hand is essential because you’d get too much greens in there if you used machines.”
From Field to Fork
When Quarella said his winery’s dandelion flowers came from Petronglo Farms, I assumed it was the same farm providing the greens to Merighi’s. But there are two Petronglo farms in Vineland—owned by cousins—specializing in different stages of the dandelions. One supplies flowers for wine and the other, Buster Petronglo & Son, grows the greens for restaurants. I had a chance to speak to Michelle Petronglo, who runs the latter farm with her husband.
Michelle Petronglo said they aim to “harvest at the very beginning before the yellow bud comes out, because that’s usually when the bud is most delicious.” She is very enthusiastic about this year’s dandelion crop. “It’s just one of those specialty crops; some people don’t know it, but the ones who do go wild for it, because it’s tradition.” Even though they are wholesalers, Petronglo talked about occasionally making exceptions: “One man from Trenton told us buying our dandelions was like Christmas to him—it brought him right back to his childhood…,” she said. “Another woman said her parents had moved from Vineland to Florida and she asked us to ship the greens to surprise them. We shipped them overnight and her parents were thrilled!”
An interesting note is that the Petronglos have grown their dandelions for generations without ever buying commercial seed. After using the greens, they wait for the yellow flowers of the remaining crop to turn white. “That’s when we harvest the seed to plant for next year’s crop.”
While the dandelions in South Jersey are quite celebrated, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that you can purchase dandelion greens all over New Jersey at your local Whole Foods, Fresh Direct, and specialty stores. I’m also happy to report (living in North Jersey) that you don’t always have to go to South Jersey to find restaurants that cook with the greens. Executive Chef and Founder Antonio Grande from Il Capriccio in Whippany puts dandelion on the menu later in the spring and early summer when they are fresher up north.
He told me what I can try and what he has made throughout the years: “You can make a purée of dandelions with fresh fava beans, or put dandelion inside focaccia. You can mix dandelion with garlic, anchovies, capers, and black olives, and you can use it as a side dish or eat it with pasta” He said he used to “pick the dandelions with his aunts and uncles just like they did in Calabria.” I was delighted to also learn that Chef Grande sometimes makes dandelions just like my grandfather did: “Fry it in olive oil and garlic. It’s filled with vitamins!”
Like every other Italian I spoke to for this article, Grande proudly told me the dandelion came from Italy. While my new Italian friends are correct that dandelions, despite being ubiquitous in this country, are non-native to America, how they specifically got here is still up for debate, with some tracing it to the Mayflower after they first originated millions of years earlier throughout Eurasia.
What isn’t disputable is how creatively Italian Americans have embraced this seemingly lowly “weed” to create enticing dandelion dishes for countless generations, including my late grandfather’s. Who would have thought that one could find such culinary richness from such a seemingly modest plant!
RESTAURANTS & ESTABLISHMENTS
35th Annual Dandelion Dinner
Merighi’s Savoy Inn
March 27, 2026 (more details in late December/January)
Check vinelandchamber.org for more information.
Merighi’s Savoy Inn
4940 E. Landis Ave., Vineland
856.691.8051
savoyinn.com
II Capriccio
633 Rt. 10 E., Whippany
973.884.9175
ilcapriccio.com
Bellview Winery
150 Atlantic St., Landisville
856.697.7172
bellviewwinery.com
