When Gigi planted a fig tree on the border of her urban garden four years ago, she had no idea that it would take to the place with such ardor. But the tree settled right in to its new home, rapidly spreading upward and outward: a sprawl of great leafed branches ultimately producing hundreds of honeyed knobs of fruit. “It seems very happy here,” we both observed. “This could be the year of the fig.”

Throughout July and August, I’d get calls from Gigi, field reports you might say, about the status of the figs.

“If these all ripen, well, this is one rockin’ fig tree,” was one update.

“Thousands of figs! I picked two 5lb. baskets in less than an hour.” was another.

Over weeks, and as the summer heat became more severe, Gigi cultivated a relationship with the beloved tree; to me, it was really a reverence:

“It’s unbearably hot, and I keep telling her how wonderful she is, making all this fruit.” She set up a special watering system, “I told her I’d take care of her. I know she’s thirsty.”

To date, She has produced enough figs to make 100 pints of preserves. One hundred pints from a four-year-old tree! It seems unimaginable—

but true! Despite temperatures stuck in the nineties and rainfall spare, Gigi’s mighty fig tree became so laden with plump fruit you could easily pick a basketful in no time at all.

Which, given the intense heat and the sticky milky mess that you get allover your hands and arms from picking, was a very good thing.

Gigi set up a system of ladders and planks within the inner sanctum of the tree, cloaked under the leafy branches. It was with childlike glee that I clambered up and around the limbs, concealed from the outer world, immersed in the heady enclave of fig leaves and fruit.

And, soon, I had picked a large bowlful of figs, most dark purple, some yellow-green with a flush of rouge, all exquisite, ripe, and beautiful.

It was time to try something new with my fig bounty. Last year, I made luscious preserves with Maggie. Gigi had already been playing with different recipes: cutting back on the sugar, adding ginger to some batches, orange juice in another, and white balsamic vinegar in yet another. All methods were cooked on the stovetop. While each batch was delicious, none had the figgy caramel syrup she was seeking.

Then, one afternoon, I got a text: “Roasting is the way.”

Why, of course! But wait, another text followed–

“No olive oil. Sugar and white balsamic vinegar only. 425 degrees.”

A-ha! (Love the economy of a texted recipe.)

After carefully rinsing my figs, I placed them on a baking sheetpan, along with a few wedges of lemon–my addition. Then, I dusted with sugar, sprinkled white balsamic vinegar over the batch, and put them into that hot oven to roast. It didn’t take long—ten minutes or so—and the figs got puffed and charred, coated in a rich caramel created from melting of the sugar, vinegar, and natural fig juices. It was amazing.

After scraping into jars, I processed some in a hot water bath, as I had with Maggie’s figs, but kept one jar in the fridge–ready for this pizza I’ve been dreaming about since we first made it last year, about this time.

Covered with roasted figs, shaved gorgonzola, leeks, and ripples of prosciutto, this is one dreamy pizza. And, don’t forget–A few sprigs of rosemary, and drizzle of the figgy syrup takes the dream to wonderland.

ROASTED FIG-PROSCIUTTO-GORGONZOLA PIZZA

PIZZA DOUGH:
1 pkg. Dry Active Yeast (2 t.)
1 c. warm Water
1 3/4 c. Unbleached All Purpose Flour
1/2 c. Rye Flour
2 t. Sea Salt
1 T. Olive Oil

Sprinkle yeast into bowl of water, stir well, and let stand for 5 minutes to activate the yeast. Combine yeast water in a mixing bowl with flours, salt, olive oil. Mix until it forms into a ball. It will be moist, but not sticky. Cover and allow to rise for one hour.

Transfer dough to lightly floured work surface. Divide into two and form into balls. Cover and refrigerate, if you are not going to use immediately.
Otherwise, let stand out for 30 minutes, then roll out into whatever pizza shape—round, oblong, rectangle—suits you. Use additional flour, as needed, to prevent sticking.

Cover with toppings, and bake in a very hot oven–450 degrees–until browned and bubbly–10 minutes.

TOPPINGS:
Roasted Figs and their syrup
Sliced Prosciutto
Diced Leeks
Shaved (or crumbled) Gorgonzola Cheese
Fresh Rosemary

Around this time each August, when tomatoes are at that wondrous peak of perfection—and production—Nashville’s One and Only Tomato Art Fest takes place.

Not only does it give us the chance to express our love of All Things Tomato, we also get to push ourselves creatively, with the beguiling fruit of the Nightshade family as our Muse.

For some, it manifests two-dimensionally: the Art and Invention Gallery displays tomato-inspired works created especially for the Fest.

For others, it is chance to strut your stuff; the fest is a tomato-directed costume party that rivals Halloween.

But for us local food activists, it means getting in the kitchen and baking up sweet and savory tomato goodies for the Everything Tomato Bake Sale. Proceeds from the sale go the Field of Greens Fund, which was founded to benefit farmers in our local foodshed who suffered damage from the Great May Floods.

For last years sale, I made this, and it sold so well that I knew I would make it again.

But I also like the challenge of coming up with something new for the sale. How best to combine my garden zucchinis, my surplus of fat ripe cherry tomatoes….

…and some beautiful fresh Greek Oregano and Summer Savory, grown by Arugula’s Star?

With these at hand, some Greek yogurt and goat cheese in my fridge, a roll of phyllo stashed in the freezer, a sunny-along-the-Aegean-Sea direction began to form.

Roasted Zucchini planks smeared with herb-laced goat cheese stacked with sliced tomatoes encased in phyllo: the result was a cross between a terrine and a napoleon.

It baked up beautifully, with sharp feta nose, bright acid tomato pop, and robust herbal notes that conjured the rocky coast of a Greek Isle. Sliced, it’s delicious for snacking, or served as a first course. I think it would be nice for brunch, too.

But, here’s a hot tip:
At the Everything Tomato Bake Sale, it was the First Thing to sell out.

COOK’S NOTES:
Phyllo can be a little tricky to work with; thank goodness it is so forgiving.

Thaw your package in the refrigerator overnight before using.
Have all your ingredients organized and ready to assemble, including your brush and bowl of olive oil.
Work quickly, and don’t worry about piecing the Napoleon here and there. Layer over layer of phyllo will create the right shape, bring it all together.

TOMATO-ZUCCHINI NAPOLEON
1 roll Phyllo Dough (one of the two pkgs. in a box)
3 medium Zucchinis
1 medium Onion
3 medium Tomatoes, or 1 1/2 pts. Cherry Tomatoes
6 oz. Mild Goat Cheese
4 oz. Feta
6 oz. Greek Yogurt
several sprigs fresh Summer Savory
several sprigs fresh Oregano
1 Egg
Salt and Black Pepper
Olive Oil
1 terrine or Loaf pan

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Slice zucchini into long planks, about1/4″ thick. Slice onion into strips. Lay out both vegetables onto a baking sheet pan and brush with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and roast for 7-10 minutes. Remove and allow to cool. Drop oven temperature to 375.

In a food processor fitted with a swivel blade, pulse together the yogurt, goat cheese, feta, egg, salt, pepper. Then add fresh herbs and pulse again until the herbs are chopped—but not too finely—throughout.

Oil the terrine or loaf pan. Unroll phyllo pastry and cover with a damp towel. Lift a couple of leaves of the phyllo and lay into terrine. The leaves, or sheets will fold over the sides of the pan. Brush with olive oil and repeat the process until the terrine base and sides are covered, several sheets deep.

Place a layer of sliced tomatoes at the bottom. Spoon some of the cheese mixture over, then place a layer of the roasted zucchini planks. Continue this layering process until you fill the terrine. Finish with a few sheets of phyllo to cover the top.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for 30 minutes. Phyllo will brown and crispen.
Allow to cool, and invert. Serve in slices for snacking, or as an appetizer.
Makes 10 slices.

A few summers ago, Maggie’s garden caught her by surprise. All at once, her zucchini plants began producing in quantities that quickly grew beyond manageable. Garden Leviathans!

Sure, everything started off fine: Maggie kept up, preparing dinners of ratatouille, breakfasts of zucchini muffins and quickbreads, handing out baskets of lumbering green squash to her friends. But, it didn’t let up. Each day she was shocked to find a mob, a frenzy, a zeal of zucchini!

“A garden will teach you,” she later said. “That’s the last year I plant them all at the same time. Stagger your plantings. Or have a kitchen factory ready to go.”

Sound advice. But, in the meantime, she wanted to find some other clever use for all those zukes. She had been making bread-and-butter pickles with her modest cucumber crop…..couldn’t zucchinis work just as well in their place?

A little scrolling around the internet confirmed her suspicions.

And, she had all the pickle-fixin’s in her pantry: cider vinegar, sugar, and salt, plus mustard seed, celery seed, and bright finger-staining turmeric.

In dervish-mode, she swirled those ingredients together, and boiled them long enough to make glazy brine.

While the brine cooled, she sliced her zucchini trove into rings, layering gallon sized jars. She poured the sweet-sour liquid, screwed on the lids, and stashed her pickle experiment into the fridge. Then, she let out a sigh of relief. Now, the wait….

It takes about a week for them to “cure.” Seems pretty simple, doesn’t it?

Soon after the curing time was complete, I drove out to her country place for a visit. She couldn’t wait to have me sample her discovery.

I wasn’t sure about them—but one bite and I was sold. Tender yet crunchy, sweet-sour flavored with mild mustard seed bite. They tasted better than “regular” cucumber-based pickles. I loved the pickled onion in there, too. Versatile:You can make them with different zucchini varieties. Like Black Beauty, Cocozelle, or those charmingly named Buttersticks.

We had them for lunch. It was the sort of lunch that you have in the country on a hot summer afternoon. You sit in the kitchen with the lights off. You select your garden’s finest, and eat to be cool.

Like a ripe peach, sliced into a small bowl and topped with yogurt.

And fat red slab of tomato, open-faced on toasted whole grain bread, (a swipe of mayo) topped with a few coins of zucchini pickle, and onion.

Hmmmmm…….I’m feeling cooler already.

MAGGIE’S REFRIGERATOR ZUCCHINI PICKLES

Layer into a clean gallon glass jar:
3 quarts Zucchini, sliced 1/4″ thick
1 quart Onions, sliced in 1/4″ thick rings or half-rings

Bring to a boil, and continue boiling for 5 minutes:
4 cups Sugar
2 cups Cider Vinegar
1 cup Water
1/4 cup Kosher Salt
1 1/2 teaspoons Celery Seed
1 1/2 teaspoons Mustard Seed
1 teaspoon Turmeric

Allow to cool, then pour over zucchini and onions. Cap and refrigerate.
Let them sit for a week, so that the flavors will develop.
Yield: a little over 3 quarts

This will keep for months, if they last that long!

An alternate—and excessive—title for this post could be ” Taming Unruly Arugula” combined with “Some Truly Delicious Foods Just Aren’t That Pretty.” But, for brevity….

Summer heat descended on us this past weekend, humidity bisque-thick, temperatures hovering around 90. We had spent a good part of the day gardening in that heat, weeding around sunflower starts (including mammoths!), planting squashes (happily located seeds for Cocozelle, those tasty striped Italians), feeding tomatoes (nine different heirlooms, their nametags lost. Can’t wait to see how they’ll turn out).

After all the garden work, we were hungry—but in the mood for an easy summertime meal—the kind where you idle around the shaded backyard table, sip water spritzed with lime, graze on small bites and watch the sky shift into dusk.

I had in mind two simple things: crudites with some sort of arugula pesto—my little garden has gone rangey with arugula–and baked radicchio with gorgonzola and hazelnuts, a Sienese dish recalled in my last post.

In this hot weather, my arugula has begun to bolt, taking on more pungency. I wanted to make a pesto that would temper those bitter, often harsh notes, and provide a savory green dip for my sugar snap peas. I’ve discovered some tips, when working with super-hot rocket for pesto.

1. Roast the garlic cloves to mellow them
2.”Sweat” some scallions for sweetness
3. Snap off thick arugula stem–extra bitterness tends to reside there
4. Process with a fat glob of Mascarpone cheese–wow.

The resulting Arugula-Mascarpone Pesto was terrific–creamy rich with green peppery bite. The unruly arugula had been tamed!

We loved spooning it over baby new potatoes, and scooping it up with sweet carrot sticks. Chilled, this pesto sets up to a firm spread, which you’ll enjoy slapping onto a slice of crusty bread.

The Baked Radicchio with Gorgonzola and Hazelnuts has, visually, a beautiful beginning; its terse list of ingredients and rapid assembly time seem to portend something wonderful.

I had forgotten that, like many gorgeous purple vegetables–think eggplant, certain varieties of bell pepper, string beans–the brilliant color goes Dull Brown in baking. It’s inescapable. Do not be dismayed when you pull this out of the oven! As my friend Wendy says, “Can’t even drink it pretty.”

No matter! Your efforts will be rewarded with great flavors: quickly, the radicchio leaves become supple in baking, the gorgonzola melts into a lavish salty puddle flecked with crunchy bits of hazelnuts. If you like, drizzle each leaf with a little balsamic syrup for sweet acid zing. You’ll find the stuffed leaves to be quite delicious warm or room temperature. So, no worries. Settle in with your late spring graze, and keep a lookout for Venus, the evening star.

Arugula Mascarpone Pesto
1 bundle Arugula, destemmed
3 cloves Roasted Garlic
2 Spring Onions, chopped, warmed in olive oil until softened
2 T. Olive Oil
4 oz. Mascarpone Cheese
Sea Salt to taste

Yield: 1 cup

In a food processor fitted with a swivel blade, pulse greens, garlic, onion, olive oil and salt together until coarsely mixed. Add mascarpone, and process until well-blended, with flecks of arugula. Taste for salt. Serve at room temperature with crudite. If chilled, it will set up, like a spread, very nice on toast with sliced chicken.

Baked Radicchio with Gorgonzola and Hazelnuts
(radicchio al forno con gorgonzola e noci)

1 head Radicchio, cleaned, leaves separated
Olive Oil
Black Pepper
4 oz. Gorgonzola, shaved or crumbled
4 oz. Hazelnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Lightly brush the back of each leaf with olive oil and place onto a baking sheet pan. Sprinkle with black pepper.
Place cheese into each leaf, and top with chopped hazelnuts.
Bake for 10-12 minutes–until gorgonzola is bubbly, and leaves are browned.
Drizzle with Balsamic Syrup and serve. Makes 12-15 leaves.

Balsamic Syrup
1/2 cup Balsamic Vinegar

Pour vinegar into a small, shallow skillet and cook it on medium heat until it is reduced by half. Remove and let cool–it will syrup-like, and sweet.
Any unused portion will keep well in the refrigerator.

Tick Tick Tick Tick… Counting down to Christmas and Year End…..
Time has accelerated, don’t you think? It always does, this time of year. There’s an energy, positively frenetic, that builds on itself, days spinning out ad delirium as we dart and dash about wrapping up loose ends, wrapping up presents,

wrapping up brie.

What, No Brie Wrapping, you say? And, why not?

It’s so very festive, and much more fun than trying to fit shiny paper in tidy corners around a big box, and tape without tearing, and not misplace the scissors under the mounds of wadded gift wrap, tissue paper, bows, ribbons, and the odd pieces of plastic holly that surround you on the floor. Promise.

Step away from all the trappings of gift wrapping. Consider stashing that book/scarf/bracelet/salad bowl/teddy bear into a shiny bag and mosey on into the kitchen.

Simple elements are involved: a round of brie, a package of puff pastry, some chutney. Any chutney will do, really.
My Of-The-Moment one is Apricot-Cranberry.

Oh, and a sharp knife, and a little confidence in your creativity. You can do this. Free-form works. Abstract works. Childlike wonder works.

(In the days when we were both impoverished hippie artists doing bits of catering-for-cash , my friend Teresa, now a food stylist, and I, now a recovered caterer, decided that bad fine art often made respectable food art. There’s a world of possibilities…)

Meanwhile, here’s a presentation that everyone will tear into—oh melty cheese and chutney—you’ll find yourself surrounded by love and gratitude. And no rumpled gift wrap.

Promise.

Cut the brie across the center

Spread a generous layer of chutney onto the brie

The big brie burger…..

Cutting the corners at an angle will give you pieces to wrap around the middle. The main idea is to secure the brie in the pastry, giving yourself a nice canvas for your design. I made a wreath, but you could make a sunburst, snowflakes, trees, ornaments, leaves, anything you fancy. Work with pastry that is cold; it cuts better. As it warms, it stretches more readily, and can be twisted, or rolled into balls. You can move the pastry in and out of the refrigerator as you work. It is very forgiving.

Piercing the contours of all your shapes will add dimension while keeping the brie from exploding (!)

Chutney-stuffed Brie in Puff Pastry
1 Box Puff Pastry
cracked black pepper
your favorite chutney (recipe below)
1 round of Brie

parchment
cookie/baking sheet pan

Allow puff pastry to thaw in the refrigerator overnight.
Split brie in half and spread one side with chutney. Close up like a sandwich. Place, centered, onto a sheet of puff pastry and sprinkle with pepper. Cut a square of puff pastry and place on top.
Cut the corners of the bottom piece at a diagonal, and wrap around the sides of the brie. Seal edges by gently pinching the dough together. If it won’t stick, moist with a little water.
Flip the brie over so that the bottom is now the top.
Decorate, by cutting or carving shapes with a paring knife and place on the brie.
When your design is set, gently pierce around the shapes with the tip of your knife. This enhances the design AND prevents the brie from popping and oozing when it bakes and puffs up.

You can wrap and decorate your brie ahead of time–a day or so before serving (I have even frozen them at this point.) Cover in plastic wrap.

Ready to bake: Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Bake in the middle of the oven for 25 minutes, until pastry is puffed up and golden brown.

Remove and cool slightly. You can dust the top of the pastry with a little paprika or chives. Place on serving tray, decorate with fresh fruits. Enjoy with wine.

Apricot-Cranberry Chutney

2 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons peeled fresh ginger, minced
1 tablespoon olive oil (or vegetable oil)
1 cup coarsely chopped dried apricots
½ cup dried cranberries
1 cup water
1/3 cup white wine vinegar
¼ cup brown sugar
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes

In a medium saucepan, heat the oil and sauté the garlic and ginger together, stirring over moderate heat for about two minutes. Add the remaining ingredients and stir well. Turn the heat to low and allow the mixture to cook for another 15-20 minutes as the dried fruits absorb the liquid and thicken. Stir occasionally. Allow to cool to room temperature. Makes 1 ½ cups.

Do you have a favorite apple?

With all the tempting varieties showing up at our farmer’s market this week, I would be hard pressed to give an answer. And, some apples are better suited for baking, others for simple out-of-hand eating. Pairing apple types–say, your sweet Jonah Gold with a tart Honeycrisp in a salad or green Granny Smith with an Arkansas Black layered in a Tarte Tatin–adds surprising complexity to a dish. Maybe it’s better to have Favorites, with the notion that the next best ones have yet to be sampled…

Last week I was in Manchester, Tennessee, talking to the ladies of the garden club about Food. That’s broad, I know. And, I can hold forth on any of the myriad aspects: growing and preserving, cooking techniques and recipes, health concerns and education, community…It’s one of our common denominators; a conversation about food can lead anywhere!

We discussed hunger and food security issues, and the importance of supporting our local food producers when and where we can. Being ladies who have long been cultivating beautiful living things, they well understood what it means to eat seasonally.

Maybe that’s when the topic of apples came up. There’s a wonderful orchard not too far from them in Pikeville, Tennessee. (That’s about 140 miles southeast of Nashville, as the crow flies.) Up on Walden Ridge, the Oren Wooden Apple Farm grows 18 varieties, with the Pink Lady Apples–crisp, sweet beauties that are remarkably versatile–being the most prized.

Serendipity! This led to a quick recipe demonstration I had already planned to give, one that would benefit from being prepared with the prized Pink Lady.

This delicious appetizer requires nothing more than the right ingredients, plus a knife and bowl. I used a Gala and a Jonah Gold. Try the recipe with your favorite crisp “eating” apples and a fruity extra-virgin olive oil. Toasted almonds or walnuts work equally well in the recipe–you make the choice. Mild goat cheese creams and coats the apples as you toss the ingredients. Bright green onion, salt and pepper balance the sweetness, give it edge.

In under fifteen minutes, you’ll have a fall appetizer,
ready to enjoy with a glass of Riesling.

Belgian endive leaves provide totally edible support. And, the floral mandala makes a knock-out presentation. Perfect for my garden club friends.

Update! An email from Manchester just alerted me to the coming Pink Lady harvest at Wooden’s. Fantastic! A box of these lovelies could be coming my way soon.

Belgian Endive stuffed with Honeycrisp Apples, Goat Cheese, and Walnuts
4 firm heads of Belgian Endive
2 Apples, (try Honeycrisp, Gala, Pink Lady)washed, cored, diced into small pieces
4 oz. plain Chèvre log, crumbled
3 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Orange Zest
1 Tablespoon fresh Orange Juice
2 Green Onions, tops included, finely sliced
½ cup Walnuts or Almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped
¼ cup dried cranberries
¼ teaspoon Sea Salt
A few grindings of Black Pepper
Balsamic Vinegar for drizzling

Rinse and dry endives, trim the bottom (root end) to separate leaves. Set aside.
In a bowl, toss diced apples and crumbled goat cheese with extra virgin olive oil and orange juice until lightly coated. Add green onions, nuts, dried cranberries, salt and black pepper. Stir gently until all the ingredients are evenly incorporated in the mixture. The goat cheese will cream slightly and coat the apples. Place a small spoonful at the base of the endive leaf—enough for one bite—and lay the leaf on a plate. Continue, placing each leaf in a circular pattern on the plate. Then, drizzle a small amount of balsamic vinegar onto each mound of apple-goat cheese-nut salad. Serve. Makes about 48 leaves.

I wanted to share this ensemble recipe with you, made recently for another of our community pot luck dinners, because its elements lend themselves to so many tasty variations.

Here we’ve got smoked pork loin, peach chutney, sauteed arugula layered on one of the South’s best culinary contributions: the corncake. I made these “pick-up” size, so that you can enjoy bitter, sweet, smoky, and savory pretty much in two bites. This particular combination was based on ingredients I had on hand. It’s got a nice season-transition feel. And, color!

But, using the corncake as the base, you should feel free to improvise. Sauteed kale, chard, or collards would work equally well. Try ham or smoked turkey for the meat.

And, the beauty of chutneys is that it’s really hard to make a bad one, provided you have good ingredients used in a good ratio. The chutney recipe below is a guideline, ready for substitutions. With pears and apples coming onto the seasonal market, I’m sure I’ll be making chutney with those, paired with cranberries. Different chili peppers and sweet peppers are welcome additions. Have fun with it.

And, if nothing else, enjoy this corncake recipe. Make ‘em BIG for dinner. They are delicious, too, with bits of corn, chilis, or cheese mixed in….

Happy Fall to all!

Baby Corncakes
1 ½ cups Cornmeal (can be yellow or white corn meal)
1 cup All Purpose Flour (make sure it is All Purpose, NOT Self-Rising)
1 Tablespoon Baking Powder
½ teaspoon Salt
1 Tablespoon Sugar
1 ½ sticks (12 tablespoons) melted Butter
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 cups lowfat milk

skillet

In a mixing bowl, add the dry ingredients (the first 5 ingredients) and whisk them together.
In a separate bowl, mix the eggs, butter, and milk.
Add to the bowl of dry ingredients.
Stir until well blended and smooth, but do not overbeat.
Heat skillet and ladle out batter–about 1 Tablespoon size per corncake–and cook as you would pancakes–flipping after the edges brown.

Makes about 4 dozen baby corncakes.

Add-ins: kernel corn, or minced jalapeno peppers, or green onions, or shredded cheddar cheese folded into the batter before baking!

White Peach-Blueberry Chutney
3 fresh white peaches
1 fresh Serrano chili pepper
2 T. grated fresh ginger root
3 T. brown sugar
1 T. cider vinegar
1/3 cup blueberries

Place sliced peaches, peppers into a saucepan and slowly cook these down together for about 15-20 minutes on low heat, breaking up the peaches as you stir. Stir in ginger root, brown sugar, cider vinegar and blueberries. Continue to cook until the mixture has a coarse but glazed appearance.

Cooks Notes:

The white peaches were a novelty–a pleasant surprise at our farmers market. Use whatever good peaches are available.

The arugula was especially pungent–mature—and I sauteed it in a little olive oil, with minced garlic and onion, and a little salt. I didn’t add any red pepper flakes, which I often do with cooked greens, as the arugula was already peppery.

About this time last summer, when everyone was inundated with zucchinis (zounds! zillions!) and seeking something new to do with them, I found this curiously appealing recipe on the ‘net. The blogger (Alas, I have no clue whom to credit!) posted a compelling account, attesting to the veritable crabbiness of these faux cakes. I saved the recipe, but did not get around to trying it until New Years Eve. That’s when Bill and I host our Community Lobster Pot Dinner–which is a whole other story.

Anyway–I wanted to serve Bill, our avowed vegetarian, something “seafoody” while the rest of us were tearing into our lobster tails, dousing sweet chunks in cayenne lemon butter. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for the zucchini faux crabcake.

The cakes were simple to make. I augmented the recipe slightly with the addition of green onion, red bell pepper, and hot red pepper flakes and whipped up a little remoulade to accompany.

When it came time to serve that course, an odd thing happened at the dinner table. The guests, with their delectable tails set before them, looked with longing at Bill’s plate of cakes.

“Those look fabulous. Can I have a bite?”
“Wow. These are great.” “I want one.” “Do you mind? Are there extras?”
And so on.

What happened was this: each person had a case of Faux Crab Cake envy.

Now, as cook, I was preoccupied with all the aspects of the meal and did not really sample the zucchini cakes–not enough to confirm their greatness. But, I decided that once the droves of zucchinis descended in August, I would make the faux crabcakes again.

And, here we are.

Verdict: These are very, very good. But, Better than Real Crabcakes? Well, perhaps not—but they were way-superior to many “real crabcakes” that I’ve had the disappointment to dine on in many places, and way more affordable.

Zucchini Faux-Crab Cakes
2 cups coarsely grated Zucchini
Salt
1 cup Bread Crumbs (I used a baguette)
1 Egg
2 Green Onions, thinly sliced–use entire scallion
¼ cup small diced Sweet Red Bell Pepper
1 ½ teaspoons Old Bay seasoning
1 teaspoon Dijon Mustard
1 Tablespoon Mayonnaise (or plain yogurt)
Juice of ½ Lemon
a pinch or 2 Red Pepper flakes

vegetable oil, for frying with a smidge of butter

Place grated zucchini in a colander; sprinkle lightly with salt, allow to stand for 30 minutes,draining. Squeeze to remove additional liquid – zucchini should be fairly dry. Place zucchini, bread crumbs, with all the other ingredients in a large bowl and mix well.
Form into 8 patties the size of crab cakes.
Heat a small amount of oil and butter in a skillet, and cook patties on both sides, browning well. Drain on paper towel.

Citrus Remoulade
1 clove Garlic
1 Egg, room temperature
½ t. Dijon Mustard
½ t. Lemon zest
½ t. Orange zest
1 t. Lemon juice
1 t. Orange juice
½ t. Salt
1 cup Olive Oil

Place all the ingredients EXCEPT for the olive oil into a food processor fitted with the swivel blade.
Process for about a minute to break down the garlic into the other ingredients. Then, slowly pour the olive oil into the mix while processing. The mixture will become thick, like mayonnaise (which is what is basically is.)

Maggie and I faced a tough decision.

Should we eat our tomato sandwich in the sweet Dixie style–a thick-sliced, lightly salted Brandywine nestled in a slather of Duke’s Mayo* on white bread?

Or should we dream of Italy, and prepare our bread in the manner of Chianti country–bruschetta rubbed with garlic, adorned with tomatoes like jewels, glistening with fruity olive oil, topped with a frill of genovese basil?

Hmmmmmmm. Or-

Or what if we married the best of both?
What if we took that mayo, and whisked in a mince of garlic, basil, and a thimble of that Riserva olive oil……

that could be very very good, now couldn’t it?

Cheater Basil Aioli
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon Sea Salt or Kosher Salt
1T. your fave fruity Olive Oil
1 heaping Tablespoon Fresh Basil leaves, super-finely sliced “chiffonade”
a few grindings of black pepper
1/4 cup Duke’s or Hellman’s Mayo

In a small bowl, infuse olive oil with minced garlic, salt, pepper, and basil. Stir well, to macerate basil and garlic with the salt. Whisk in the mayo. That’s it.

* I have always been a proponent of Hellman’s Mayonnaise—and I won’t forsake it, but on good recommendation I sampled Duke’s, and am a convert. It has as the right flavor and texture, but contains No Sugar.

Like a sunburst, aren’t they!

There’s something especially marvelous about eating flowers–at once primal–bovine, really–and decadent. It’s no wonder we humans added these to our roster of good things to eat. Emerging from beneath huge verdant leaves, the brilliant yellow-orange blooms of zucchini, yellow squash, pumpkin plants drink up the light and look positively delectable.

I have had limited experience with them–ephemeral squash blossoms carry an aggressive price. Hence, the decadence…But recently a friend who acts as a market liaison between farmers and chefs had an unsold container of blossoms that wouldn’t be viable the next day. Would I like to have them?

Who could refuse such a gift?

I had to act quickly, which meant using ingredients already on hand. Fillings made with ricotta or chevre would be my preference, but having neither, I opted for the plain cream cheese in my fridge. With some modest enhancements— acidy-sweet sungold cherry tomatoes and peppery lemon basil—it got that nice tang you’d expect from better cheeses.

Let me say also that I normally resist battered-and-fried. But a tempura-like batter, or the beer-based one that I used, adds this wonderful crunchy overlay to the blossom. The subtle squashy flavors inherent to the flower come through, and the filling bursts with creamy goodness. For an every-once-in-a-while treat, I’ll indulge all the way.

Stuffed Squash Blossoms

The Filling
1 lb. Cream Cheese, softened, cut into small slabs
3 T. chopped Lemon Basil
1 T. chopped Garlic chives
6 Sun Gold or cherry tomatoes
Salt
Black Pepper

Pastry bag with tip

Place cream cheese, cherry tomatoes, and herbs into food processor outfitted with the swivel blade. Pulse the mixture until all the ingredients are chopped and blended throughout. Taste and season with salt and pepper.

Gently remove the pistil from each blossom.
Fill pastry bag and pipe filling into the flowers. Refrigerate until ready to batter and fry.

Stuffs 16-20 blossoms

The Batter
½ cup Flour
2 T. Cornstarch
½ t. Baking Powder
¼ t. Baking Soda
¼ t. Salt
1 Egg
½ cup Club Soda or Beer

Canola Oil

Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl. Beat in egg and club soda or beer.

Heat oil (about ½ “ deep) in large skillet. One by one, dip blossoms into batter; allow excess to drip back into bowl, and place into sizzling oil. Fry until golden brown—about three minutes—and flip over. Repeat. Remove crispy fried blossom and place onto a paper towel to drain.

Best when served immediately.

The blossom stems make perfect handles…

A pleasing combo of crunch and cream