Zucchini Days of Summer, Part 2

Posted on August 17, 2009 by Chelsea

Anticipating a bumper crop of zucchini from the moment we planted our starts, I spent the late spring / early summer evenings scouring cookbooks for likely recipes. I marked so many that now it’s just a project of choosing between them. For Part 2 of this continuing series, I chose zucchini fritters.

These were sticky, but pretty easy to assemble, being simply a mix of shredded zucchini, onion, some herbs, and flour. The fritters in this photo look remarkably like cheddar cheese, but that is actually yellow zucchini, which is part of the reason for this sequence of posts. We thought we were purchasing one zucchini plant (green) and one crookneck summer squash plant. However, the yellow squashes ended up looking suspiciously like… guess what… zucchini! And indeed, that is what they are. Two zucchini plants = more creative zucchini recipes for me.

With the fritters delicately molded, I scooped them gently into a big pan of shimmering olive oil to fry (not to toot my own photography-skills horn, but I love how you can see the texture of the olive oil in the pan in this photograph. When recipes elusively call for adding the food when the oil is “shimmering,” I’m pretty sure this is a textbook example of what they mean). With the oil only about ¼ inch deep and nice and hot before adding the victims, they didn’t absorb too much.

After a brief drain on paper towels, I stacked them all up on a plate, added crumbled feta cheese and finely grated parmesan cheese to the top, and served hot. The hotter the better, I think.

You can see the texture here: the onion and flour made these fritters reminiscent of latkes, although the flavor was definitely zucchini, with the sharp greenness of the chopped herbs and the salty tang of the feta and parmesan. They were crispy but still moist, and despite it being our third zucchini dish in two weeks, there were no leftovers.

Zucchini Days of Summer, Part I

Posted on August 14, 2009 by Chelsea

It’s that time. The days are warm (mostly), the skies are blue (except when they’re cloudy, this is Oregon, after all), and the zucchini are swelling and ripening and filling up the garden with all the grace and timeliness of an animated stubbed toe.

Alright, I confess, that’s not quite fair. I do like zucchini. I’m just discovering, as a first time gardener, how right everyone is about how creative you have to be, and how strong the potential is to get sick of it. So in case you find yourself in similar straits, I’ll share some of my zucchini ambitions with you in what will most certainly be a multi-part series.

Part I is pretty simple: zucchini and mushroom pizza. I like a simple “sauce” on my Boboli crust; just olive oil, garlic (or garlic powder, depending on how tired I’m feeling), dried Italian seasoning, and salt and pepper. I topped this with a layer of Monterey jack cheese, and then stacked up thin slices of yellow zucchini and thick slices of crimini mushroom until you could barely see the cheese underneath anymore. Then I added another thin layer of cheese, some leftover crumbles of feta, and a collection of cherry tomatoes, carefully inserted between vegetables to hold them securely in place. Then, just for an added flourish, I sprinkled the whole thing with chopped chives. Eleven or twelve minutes in the oven, and the veggies are cooked, the cheese is melted and bubbly, the cherry tomatoes are just starting to burst their skins, and dinner is served.

Homegrown Feast

Posted on August 4, 2009 by Chelsea

Michael Pollan, author of “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” and “In Defense of Food” (the latter of which is on my wish list, if anyone is so inclined…) has written a New York Times article about the upcoming movie “Julie & Julia,” the show “The Next Food Network Star” and the network from which it springs, and about food and the American mentality for it in general. He considers why food, and cooking, have become spectator sports instead of daily endeavors, and concludes that a combination of increasing work hours, ever advancing kitchen technologies, and endlessly multiplying availability of quick and easy processed foods, are leading us out of the kitchen. However, speculating that the instinctive, reptilian parts of our minds that are always subconsciously searching for sustenance are attracted by the appearance of food being made, we like the Food Network with its fancy presentations, competitive cooking shows, and analyses of restaurants. Though this does not surprise me about American society in general, I am trying to set myself apart from this norm. Hence the blog, the backyard garden, the subscriptions to cooking magazines… I try to pick up techniques and inspirations from Food Network shows, though I do admit to sometimes just enjoying watching someone else do the cooking. However, today was something of a proud moment, considering Pollan’s article, which I read shortly after lunchtime. Today each one of my meals included something homemade or homegrown.

For breakfast I feasted on toast topped by pluot-raspberry jam, lovingly preserved by a friend and colleague. It was glossy and thick and sweet-tart with lumps of fruit inside, my favorite way. I like my jams and preserves to still resemble the fruits they once came from, so they feel a little more real.

Lunch was one of my favorite summertime meals. In celebration of our first full size ripe tomato (we’ve had great luck with the sungold cherries so far, but the big tomatoes are blushing only grudgingly), I picked it, carved it into thick slices, and had myself a juicy, creamy, yummy tomato sandwich. I like my bread toasted, with mayonnaise on both sides to hold in the seeds and tender flesh of the tomato. That’s all. Ungarnished. Unfancy. Fresh and delectable.

Dinner was a big triumph. At my best estimate, about 70% of our dinner came from either my garden, or our neighbor’s. Armed with cherry tomatoes, a few yellow pole beans, green onions, basil, and oregano from my yard, and a cucumber accompanied by a zucchini practically the size of a T-ball bat from our neighbor’s garden, I went to work. I blanched the beans since a few of them were quite long and I was afraid they would be tough, before combining them with the halved sungolds, sliced cucumber, and a cup or two of defrosted frozen corn.

I tossed these with a really simple vinaigrette of just red wine vinegar, some sugar, and a touch of olive oil. Salt, pepper, and a small handful of julienned basil, and the salad was done. I set it aside to marinate while I fixed the main event.

The zucchini was so big that I knew the seeds would be fully developed, so I sliced the monster in half lengthwise and scooped out the seeds, leaving the flesh behind. I added salt, black pepper, and a little olive oil to the flesh before placing the halves in a roasting pan. Per a distantly related recipe I found in a vegetarian cookbook, I added a little water to the roasting pan and slapped some aluminum foil over the top before letting them cook for about fifteen minutes, just to start softening up the flesh. Meanwhile I mixed up the filling. After finely chopping the green onions and oregano from the garden, I mixed them into some goat cheese along with garlic powder and Penzey’s Black and Red pepper mix that I particularly like. When the zucchini halves finished their steam, I took them out, filled them with the cheese mixture, and topped them with considerable mounds of fresh white bread crumbs. Then it was back into the oven for another 25 minutes, when the bread crumbs were suitably golden for my taste.

When they came out, we cut off thick slices and ate them with the salad as a side. The zucchini flesh was tender but still had some texture to it, and I was surprised to find that the skin was not a bit bitter. The goat cheese lent a tangy flavor that was, surprisingly, not so strong that it overpowered the vegetable. The bread crumbs were a nice touch, adding a crunchy texture and toasty flavor to the dish. I think when I make this again (our own zucchini promise that I will), I may add some lemon juice or another acidic flavor to the cheese mixture. I generally like my vegetables with lemon, and the goat cheese has a unique tartness that leads me to believe it would pair well with a squeeze of citrus.

Feeling like a ecologically, environmentally, locally responsible citizen of the world, I can’t help but feel a twinge of longing for ice cream… packaged, processed, hermetically sealed… but maybe I’ll settle for a homebaked blueberry struesel bar instead.

First Bounty

Posted on July 22, 2009 by Chelsea

Though we have been harvesting sugar snap peas by the bowlful for the past few weeks, and though we probably still have enough preparing for maturity on the vine for me to freeze a bagful, it didn’t feel like we really had a harvest on our hands until a few days ago, when I picked these:

I know it seems crazy, and I know I’ll be sick of it before August is over, but despite the heat and despite the impending pounds of zucchini and despite my encouragement to myself to eat better at breakfast time, I couldn’t resist. Despite all that, I made zucchini bread.

As you can see, whether it was the monster zucchini I grated up that exceeded the recipe’s requirement a little bit, or whether it was because my thrift store loaf pan was on the small side, I had extra batter. Fortunately, my sweet little too-seldom-used ramekins called to me from the cupboard, and I heeded their siren song. In addition to the loaf, we also had four big muffin-sized servings. The advantage of this was that they were ready for consumption much sooner, and consume we did. Here’s my serving suggestion:

The recipe I use for zucchini bread right now is from Bon Appetit’s latest cookbook. This isn’t the magazine, it’s the full book, and this particular version is called Zucchini Spice Bread. It has a hefty teaspoon of cinnamon added to the standard mix, and with 2 cups of zucchini as well as a cup of toasted nuts (I used pecans because I was out of walnuts, and may have liked it better with the substitution), it seems like one of the healthier quickbreads out there, as well as using up a decent amount of zucchini. And the flavor. The flavor is stupendous. Since the nuts are toasted, they donate more of a crunch and a warm richness to the bread. Because there is so much zucchini, they don’t dry out the bread too much, which is sometimes a complaint I have about nuts. The zucchini itself is mild but still present, and the bread is not too sweet. It has a nice moist crumb to it but the top gets crusty, so the whole thing is just a medley of textures that I really enjoy. Here’s to the joy of baked goods, the joy of home grown vegetables, and the very special joy of being able to eat them both at the same time!

Wedding Cake Redux

Posted on July 16, 2009 by Chelsea

Yesterday, N. and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary. I know, I know, we’re practically newlyweds still, and maybe that’s why I wanted to make something special for us to eat. N. wanted to go out to dinner, since I cook a lot, and so I hatched a plan for dessert. I’ve been getting a subscription to Cuisine at Home, and a few months ago I received an issue with a recipe for Pink Champagne Cake. At our wedding, the cake flavor was champagne, and the filling was fresh strawberries. It looked like this:

Chelsea_Nick-264

Though this recipe didn’t call for strawberries, the idea behind it seemed perfect, so early yesterday morning while N. was in a class, I set to work on what was easily the most complicated cake I have ever baked. The first part was easy:

Like any cake, the layers needed to cool completely before frosting them, which was convenient because it gave me ample time to clean up the incredible mess I had created in the kitchen. Not only do I enjoy creating food, apparently I like to throw my whole self into the process. When the cakes were cooled and the kitchen was clean(er), I embarked on step two: frosting. This cake was more complex than my normal baking projects not only because the batter involved champagne, two mixing bowls, and egg whites, but because the frosting was a multi-step process as well. The first frosting step was for the filling between the two layers. Here I decided to go a few extra kilometers in recreating our wedding cake, and arranged slices of fresh strawberries atop the frosting layer:

Next, after carefully stacking the cake and performing some fancy heating, cooling, whipping, and folding with gelatin, heavy cream, and the remaining already mixed frosting, I carefully stacked on the second layer, frosted the bejeezus out of the whole thing, and then covered the cake and refrigerated it so that the frosting could set up a little before eating. When it came out, it looked like this:

Then we ate it. The addition of strawberries was really wonderful, both for reminiscence sake and because the frosting was powdered sugar based, which is often too sweet for me. The tart juiciness of the strawberries cut the almost overwhelming sweetness of the icing, and the layer of red in the middle was pretty, since I didn’t use the food coloring required to make the “Pink” part of the recipe’s title. This didn’t seem necessary, both because our wedding cake was not pink, and because I didn’t want to spend the money on food coloring. This is a change I would advise keeping. My only other critique of the cake, which was ultimately my fault, would be to use white shortening in the frosting. Mine was butter flavored and yellow, which is usually fine, but it did make the frosting on the cake a creamy color, when bright white would have been a little more aesthetically pleasing.

But the important thing here is the flavor. It was delicious. The cake was moist and a bit dense, and though it was not particularly strong, there was definitely a hint of champagne flavor in there. It was definitely more complex than a simple white or yellow cake, and maybe with a simpler frosting – just whipping cream, sugar, and a splash of champagne – this would be a perfect showy dessert. In fact, with so much left in the fridge, I might just have to taste it again and make sure it’s as good as it was last night…

Ravioli

Posted on June 25, 2009 by Chelsea

What does one make with half a package of wonton wrappers slowly succumbing to freezer-burn, a yard full of fragrant spearmint, and a package of cherry tomatoes?

Homemade ravioli.

A few months ago, during that first spell of beautiful heat, N. and our friend S. and I went to the annual Friends of the Eugene Library booksale. Amidst nerdy volumes, I found two glorious, inexpensive cookbooks, and it was from a volume called “Everyday Epicurean” that I found the recipe for this simple and really quite delish ravioli concoction.

The filling combines crumbled feta cheese, cream cheese, herbs, and the magic ingredient: a small pickled jalapeño pepper. After a whirl in the food processor, half a tablespoon of filling gets mounded in the center of a square wonton wrapper, which you fold into a triangle after moistening the edges with water. Stow your raviolis safely on a WELL-FLOURED cookie sheet while you finish producing the batch.

I stuck mine in the refrigerator for a few hours before dropping the delicate little stuffed triangles into a boiling pot, though the recipe didn’t call for this. While the little darlings boiled, I mixed up the sauce, which consisted mainly of cherry tomatoes and mint, just barely heated up in a sauté pan with some hot olive oil. Since my tummy doesn’t do well with heavy processed tomato sauces, this was near perfect for me.

The result was heavenly. The raviolis stuck together a little bit while I was pulling them out of the pot, and one or two of them may have leaked a little bit (the water was pretty cloudy by the time they were done), but it didn’t seem to matter. Unlike the usual frozen variety we depend on in a pinch, the wonton skins were ultra-thin and delicate, and tasted more like restaurant fare than the quick fix from the freezer section. The filling was creamy and rich, but not overpoweringly so, as the sharp bite from the pickled jalapeño inside and the sweet acidic tang from the tomatoes outside cut through the potentially cloying velvet of the cheese. Served up with a toaster-oven broiled slice of romano-garlic toast, this was completely worth the effort of creating all those little packages. Maybe the cliché about good things is true after all.