Ms. Bordessa sees room for edible experimentation, even in the front yard. A clever homeowner could tuck food-bearing alternatives like basil, peppers, eggplant and blueberries into the flower beds without disrupting the neighborhood aesthetic. Grow a fruit tree and the neighbors might even come knocking for a free peach.

The lawn has already lost its luster in drier regions of the country, where homeowners have embraced trends like xeriscaping, a landscaping style that favors plants that need little or no watering.

In California, years of drought turned the manicured lawn into a potent symbol of wealth and excess, as sprawling properties in Los Angeles enclaves like Bel Air stayed green at a time when millions of homeowners across the state were turning to drought-resistant alternatives.

But in the Northeast, where summers are often wet, and cactus is hardly common, the green lawn still reigns. Consider breaking the mold with something more creative, particularly in the front yard, and you have few models to follow.

It’s no wonder that grass has become the default vegetation. The seed is cheap, the aesthetic predictable, and you don’t have to know much about landscape design to succeed. With a uniform palette, you do not have to tend to an eclectic brood of plants that may have different demands for light, water and soil conditions.

But this spring, I decided to plant more and mow less. A local landscaper who specializes in native plants stopped by my house to offer advice. When I suggested the possibility of a vegetable garden in the front, she steered me to the backyard instead, pointing to a narrow swath near the driveway that gets full light. And I could shrink the rest of the back lawn with native plants like sweet fern, sweetbells, witch hazel and silky dogwood that thrive without full sun. In the front, we could expand the existing flower bed and add new ones. She glanced at me and said, “Of course, you’d need to take care of all this.”

But maybe if you start digging up the lawn, you may not mind the extra work.

Stephenie MacLagan and Dave Oliver, who live in a 900-square-foot house on a quiet suburban street near Bangor, Me., started chipping away at their lawn almost a decade ago when they grew frustrated by the tomato options at the local grocery store. That, and “it was the realization that I mow my lawn and I hate mowing,” said Ms. MacLagan, 34, a natural resource economist. Mr. Oliver, 42, is a behavior specialist in the local schools.