My husband was furious when he found out I planted eight zucchini seeds—a baroque, striped and ridged Romanesco variety that hearkens back to my Italian heritage. Every single one sprouted within days, erupting into dozens of gorgeous umbrella-sized leaves, vines snaking their way around and then, predictably, out of the bed in which they’re planted. We’re now at that time of year where every 48 hours there’s a new harvest, and if I neglect them for a few days I find a couple of intimidating cudgel-sized squashes to be reckoned with.
To which I say: Bring it on. I will use every last one. I said what I said.
Despite all the jokes, which happen to be true (I do carry a few zucchini in my car this time of year and try to pawn them off on friends and even strangers—with consent, of course!), I consider zucchini season to be a celebration. A few years ago I started launching this period of largesse with a fritto misto, deep frying spears together with onion rings, lemon slices, and the beautiful orange blossoms stuffed with smoked mozzarella, anchovies, or herbed ricotta. Everything is eaten blistering hot, straight out of the basket, basically until we can’t take any more.
Tonight’s dinner will use zucchini two ways. First, a catch-all Italian minestrone featuring the first Jersey tomatoes, fennel, chickpeas, and potatoes, with a dollop of basil pest from the garden. Second, a crunchy cornmeal rosemary-flecked scarpaccia that’s become a favorite zucchini delivery system in our house.
I thought it might be fun for me and helpful for you to offer up a non-exhaustive list of every way I’ve cooked zucchini in the past few weeks.
Zucchini bread, of course. If you don’t have your own recipe, here’s a good one.
“Strega Nona” flourless zucchini brownies that I started making when my kids were toddlers. Highly recommend.
Spiralized zucchini (the word “zoodle” will never cross my lips; anyone who tries to pretend zucchini is pasta will hear my prepared diatribe on the topic) tossed with salt, pepper, grated garlic or scallions, lemon, and fresh herbs like basil, parsley, thyme. It’s actually very good.
Ottolenghi’s turkey zucchini burgers with sour cream-sumac sauce, perfect on a potato roll with a thick slice of tomato
Zucchini flower tacos or quesadillas. My favorite method is to cook open-faced with Oaxaca cheese on a corn tortilla (best with a nonstick pan, though cast iron works too).
Spaghetti alla Nerano, which went viral last year when Stanley Tucci smoldered over it on his show Searching for Italy. Actually, as soon as I fried the zucchini chips for this recipe my family ate them all so I never got around to making the spaghetti. Maybe next week?
Zucchini scallion dill feta frittata. ‘Nuff said.
Frida Kahlo’s ensalada de calabacín is a creamy-tangy dream with avocado and a little crumbled cheese on top.
Thomas Keller’s roasted zucchini: crosshatched, fried, roasted, with a grated tomato relish. This recipe is overly fussy IMO; no need to make sauce vierge, just grate some good Jersey tomatoes and add chopped shallot or onion, wine vinegar, nice olive oil to spoon on top.
I love to find a healthy, protein-packed, flavorful, one-dish meal like this Turkish scramble with egg, potato, zucchini, mushroom, scallion, halloumi, olives, parsley, mint/cilantro, and chili. Very high ROI.
Also from delightful British-Turkish food personality Meliz, this sheet-pan meal (or tray bake) with kofta (she uses lamb, I use pork, beef or chicken would work too), potatoes, zucchini, and onions (which I double). The result is crispy yet jammy roasted veg, super savory, one of my favorite flavor profiles.
Smitten Kitchen’s cheesy zucchini rice gratin, for a day that’s cool enough to turn on the oven.
Last weekend I observed my other zucchini tradition, which comes later in the season. It’s a somewhat labor-intensive Sicilian zucchini antipasto that involves slicing, salting, sprinkling with vinegar, drying the slices halfway until they’re a little leathery, and then packing in extra virgin olive oil with garlic, mint, and chilies from my garden. The result is a flavor bomb that’s reminiscent of salami—garlicky, tangy, herbal, a little spicy. It’s greater than the sum of its parts, and it’s a warming reminder of summer’s bounty.
If you’ve got questions about any of these recipes or are looking for more, feel free to message me. I’m a vegetable evangelist, after all.
Your husband is a smart guy. Did you really say “jammy”?
I don't think you'll ever get to make the spaghetti alla Nerano. What self respecting person can resist eating fried zucchini chips right out of the bowl.
Also, zoodles.