I can't believe I have to eat the whole thing

If you read my last blog, you pretty much had to figure that there would be another zucchini recipe this week.  I harvested over 10 pounds of the stuff from my little shared garden last week, and that massive sumo wrestler of a zucchini is still enthroned on the counter like some kind of vegetative version of Jabba-the-Hutt.    He mocks me--practically screaming out every day "Hey, you wanna piece of me.?"  Yeah right--like I haven't had a piece of him every day for the past week.  So far this week we've had zucchini fritatta, sauteed zucchini, and zucchini bread.  I've shared zucchini with friends and neighbors.  No one tells you that when you eat local seasonal produce (and what's more local than a garden just down the street?) that you'll be eating the same freaking thing every day in a row.  Compound this by the fact that the only green thing that my children will eat are Jolly Ranchers, and you can a pretty good idea of the dimension of the problem.  Instead of the ubiquitous refrain of "what do you want for dinner tonight?" in my house, it's "how do you want me to fix the zucchini tonight"?  Ugh.   It's no easy feat getting all of it into recipes, and then getting it all down your throat. 

Tonight, however, I prevailed.  My zucchini piece de resistance--zucchini fries.  These are good.   Really good.  Not good enough for the kids to eat them, but whatever.  More for me.


Zucchini Fries
Another shamelessly plagiarized recipe.  This one from Health.com.

1.  Cut off a hunk of zucchini from the monster, and cut it into long skinny strips.  We're making something called "zucchini fries" so let McDonald's be your guide here.


2.  Mix together 1/4 cup of milk and 1 egg white.  Feel free to use 1/4 cup of egg beaters; it worked fine.


3.  In another bowl mix together 1/2 cup seasoned bread crumbs and 1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese.  A note here on the Parmesan cheese.  I religiously keep two kinds on hand at all times:  the cheap stuff that comes in a green can and the hunk of outrageously expensive imported Parmesan-Reggiano.  The cheap stuff is great to throw on some popcorn or toss into a meat loaf, and the expensive stuff has the perfect flavor to season a risotto or grate onto pasta.  The shredded stuff that comes in the clear plastic container?  All the expense of the imported hunk with about as much flavor as the stuff that comes in the green can.  Don't buy it.  Except for this recipe.  For some reason the little shreds of cheese crisp up beautifully in the oven and give these "fries" their crisp without all the evils of real frying.  The fake stuff won't work, and the real stuff is a pain to properly shred.  


4. Coat the zucchini strips into the egg mixture, and then toss them in the bread crumb mixture.  Lay them out on a well-sprayed cookie sheet.


5.  Bake at 425 degrees for about 20-30 minutes until golden brown and crisp.  Look at the remaining 3 pounds of zucchini and wonder what you're going to do with it tomorrow.

You can hide, but you can't run

I am not a gardener.  I may have two opposable thumbs, but they are most certainly not green.  In short, if I plant it, it will die.  Just take a look at my typical handiwork:

The Azalea Corpse

The Half-Dead Magnolia

The Decapitated Juniper

It's a horticultural chamber of horrors.  

Indeed, I'm convinced that the plant world is on to me.  Over the years it's conspired to ensure that nothing green or flowering or edible will ever truly take hold in my yard. The plants somehow know that I am botanical butcher, and the smart ones steer clear.  This year, however, I tricked them.  This year I planted a garden in someone else's yard, and although the tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant managed to escape me, it appears that the zucchini didn't get the memo.  They tried to elude me.  They hunkered down beneath those big umbrella-like leaves and hid.  Thought those prickly vines would protect them. Thought they could take advantage of my inexperience by blending in with the rest of the foliage and eluding capture.  They nearly succeeded in simply rotting away on the vine--but  HAH.  They may have grown to close to 5 pounds each, but I was not to be denied. Ultimately I found my prey: nuclear-sized hulks of zucchini that likely lost any and all flavor about 2 weeks ago.  Of course, they didn't count on me making zucchini bread.  Add just about  anything to flour and sugar and it will taste good.

You should've see the one that got away.

Do you think a taxidermist could stuff and mount it?

Zucchini Bread

Zucchini Fate.

• Cooking Light Magazine, July 2005
• 
  
• 1.   Preheat oven to 350°.
• 
  
• 2.  Lightly spoon 3 cups all purpose flour into a dry measuring cup .  Level with a knife.  Combine with1 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp ground cinnamon, and 1/2 tsp salt in a large bowl.
• 
  
• 3.  Combine 1/2  cup egg substitute and 1/3 cup canola oil, 1 tsp grated lemon rind, and 2 tsps vanilla extract, and 1 large egg lightly beaten in another large bowl.
• 
  
• 4.  Add 1 and 1/2 cups sugar until combined.   Add 3 cups of shredded zucchini.  Add flour mixture.
• 
  
• 5.  Add 1/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted.  
• 
  
• 6.  Divide batter evenly between 4 (8 x 4-inch) loaf pans coated with cooking spray. Bake at 350° for 1 hour or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes in pans on a wire rack; remove from pans. Cool completely on wire rack.

Independence Day

Nothing says the 4th of July quite like Korean Barbecue.   It's simple really.  You take one Korean-American, marry her off to an Italian boy from Long Island, then plant them in a cul-de-sac with a bunch of Germans, Poles, Irish, and Jews.  Check your politics at the door.  Mix generously with alcohol--preferably from the Napa Valley.  Serve the children--dozens of them--hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and watermelon slices.  Then feed the grown-ups chilled cucumber soup, chim-chi,  pickled radishes, and huge steaming plates of grilled beef and chicken seasoned with spices that Thomas Jefferson only read about in books.  


I'm not sure that 236 years ago the Founding Fathers ever expected that we'd be celebrating their little experiment in self-governance this way, but no matter.  This was a party worthy of America.     


Kalbi – BBQ short rib

By Alana Piccolo

1.    Go to an Asian market and buy two and a half pounds of LA style-cut beef short ribs.   If you've never been, shopping at an Asian market is about as close as an experience as you'll ever get to being beamed onto another planet like the Star Trek gang.   One minute you're standing in the parking lot of a suburban strip mall, and the next, you're smack dab in the middle of a busy South Korean market standing next to a particularly pungent vat of fermenting cabbage.  Not speaking Korean is a distinct disadvantage, but you'll survive. Just be mindful that these aren't Texas-style ribs.  LA style ribs are thinly cut across the bone, so that each piece is a long, thin, strip with 3 bone sections in it.  


2.  Rinse the ribs in cold water and pat dry with paper towels.  Place ribs in a large bowl or roasting pan.  Peel one kiwi and puree in a food processor with 1 tbsp of cold water.    Add kiwi puree to ribs and massage the meat with the kiwi mixture. 

3.  Mix together the following ingredients in smaller bowl and pour over meat:  6 Tbsp soy sauce, 1 Tbsp sesame oil, one spring onion cut on the diagonal, 1 Tsp toasted sesame sees, one tsp sugar, fresh black pepper.  Marinate for 3-4 hours.

4.  Cook over a hot grill 5-7 minutes on 1 side and 4 minutes on other.  Serve hot with rice, steamed veggies, or Korean side salads which can also be purchased at your local Asian markets.  But bring this picture with you so you can point to it as you ask in your best Korean:  "DO. YOU. HAVE. THIS?"