Zucchini & Squash
Zucchini Tomato Salad
submitted by Yvona Fast, Lake Clear
How to make use of all those extra zukes and
Egg Plant Zucchini Casserole
Karen Dawson, Burlington, VT
Here is what we do with the humble zucchini. . .
Anne Burnham, Parishville
CHOCLATE ZUCCHINI CAKE a la Lamar Bliss
Mix dry ingredients and add to above mixture:
Stir in zucchini. Turn into greased & floured 9x12x2 pan. Sprinkle top with chocolate chips. Bake @325 F, 40-45 min.
RATATOILLE a la Glen Mongol
Serve on rice, pasta, or polenta with chunks or grated cheese melted (in pan or oven)
ZUCCHINI FRITTERS a la Mitza
Put 2-3 T oil or butter in a pan on low-med heat.
Stir only enough to coat vegetables. Dip in tablespoon, letting batter drain off unto bowl. Lower into fat and fry until delicately brown.
My sister-in-law gave me this recipe when I was in college, and it became a favorite of our small young-adult household. One time my roommate, now a dear friend, and I mixed up a batch of bread before travelling the 1 1/2 hours from New Hampshire to my parents house in Maine. We kneaded the dough and then nestled it into a large bowl, covered with a clean towel in the back seat of the car. We set off on our trip and, of course, promptly forgot all about the rising dough.
When we arrived at my parents' house and unpacked the car, we found the dough had risen over the edge and escaped the bowl, onto the car seat!
We slavaged most of the dough, got it into pans to rise and bake, and it was the most delicious pumpkin break ever. (There is a photo of the 2 finished loaves, sitting on the kitchen counter, at my parents' house). I think I've probably made this recipe at least 50 times since then, and never has it tasted quite so good.
Let stand to soften yeast.
Mix in a separate bowl:
Stir, cool to lukewarm, then add to softened yeast.
North Country Food Book page
Recently a friend asked me "Do you want an example of North Country crime?" Then, without waiting for my reply, he said:
"You've got to be careful in October. If you leave your car trunk unlocked you are liable to come back and find the trunk full of zucchini."
Ruth A. Cassin
Squashed by the Squash
By Neal Burdick
Last spring, with the kids grown up and gone and our backs going, we decided to downsize our garden. We went from five 8x8 raised beds to one 8x24 plot. In it we planted marigolds because we were told they help fend off deer, green beans, peppers (some of which were supposed to be bell but turned out to be chili of some indefinable lineage), four tomato plants, the requisite zucchini - and a couple of innocent-looking butternut squash seeds in a modest hill. Add to this our perennial rhubarb and sketchy asparagus beds, and we thought we'd have a respectable and tidy village garden.
As the summer progressed, so did our garden, more or less on schedule. The squash vines, though, were a little too enthusiastic, and we had to keep training them to wrap around this and that and trimming them back. We put up a fence to keep the deer at bay, and when the squash vines climbed the fence in an apparent sacrificial offering to the critters, we let them stay there. The deer obligingly kept them nipped back to the fence line and left everything else alone. We pretended we'd planned it that way back in raw, heartbreaking March.
Then we went away for a few days in August, and when we came back, the vines had lost all sense of decorum. They'd insinuated themselves in amongst the bean plants. They'd ascended the pepper plants for a better view. And they'd hauled themselves up the tomato cages and overwhelmed the tomatoes, slapping them down with leaves the size of tennis rackets. Could we have straightened all that vine, we imagined it might reach to the county line--and that's saying a lot, given that we live in the center of the biggest county in the state (though not the biggest one east of wherever, as many people mistakenly insist). We named the insidious network "Audrey II" in honor of the voracious greenery in the musical "Little Shop of Horrors." We harvested what pittance from the conquered plants that we could, threw in the trowel and prayed for blessed frost.
What lessons have we taken away from this?
And how many squashes did we get out of all those miles of malicious, imperialistic vine? Three, one of which was hollow, much like my gardening skills.