Blossoming

I was both delighted and alarmed when I saw the plastic bag of 10 zucchini blossoms tucked in the corner my farmbox on Wednesday. These little darlings are probably my favorite (non-basic) food in the entire world, even including smoked salmon. But I had two lots of company coming, and there were not enough flowers to feed them to the guests. And they don't wear well, squash blossoms.

Normally, when I am lucky enough to get some, I make squash blossoms a bit of a personal event- stuffing them with ricotta and herbs, frying them in batter, or even doing both. I did not consider trying either while making an entirely separate birthday dinner. Because it does take the edge off the even the most wonderful food, when you are so tired you can hardly get it from plate to mouth.

But this is what I did, and I think it worked out very well. I tried something new with the blossoms, which I might never have done otherwise, being so enamoured of the original treatments. Plus, it made them last, stretched them out a bit- and that can't be bad, when you are dealing with treasures.*

I found this recipe for Spaghetti all'Aquilana, and made it right away. Despite the initial frying, it's pretty simple, and I had it for supper, after work. I was left with enough residual energy to do some party prep for the next day. The initial non-batter blossom frying does give the cook an opportunity to indulge in a stolen crispy salted blossom in the midst of preparations. The spaghetti made a really fine supper, and, importantly, leftovers. The leftovers will be turned into a large day after the party frittata, with the addition of eggs, fresh basil, and some very thinly sliced zucchini ribbons, sauteed briefly, to catch up with the cooked leftovers. All very nice.

And those squash blossoms are particularly good with the saffron in the spaghetti recipe. I've been thinking about making a risotto, also using some saffron, if I'm lucky enough to get more. Now that I've branched out. Or there's a Mario Batali recipe for tortelloni filled with mascarpone and zucchini blossoms. A person could make those using the wonton wrapper cheating method. I just may not be able to resist the batter fried, stuffed extravaganza ones, though.

*I do understand that not everyone feels as strongly as I do re squash blossoms. Intellectually I understand. Viscerally, it puzzles me. If it is possible to be viscerally puzzled.

Comments

[baking soda]

Drooling over the first picture, those soft colours and the matching fabric.

[Tanna]

Well, I'm drooling over all of it! And yes I do believe in visceral puzzlement! I'm with you on that one.
It so good to Blossom . . .

[littlebouffe]

I haven't the faintest idea what squash blossoms are like to eat (never even have laid my eyes on them), but this spaghetti recipe sounds like something i'll have to try, blossoms or no. Saffron plus carbonara-style eggy creaminess? Absolutely.

[Trig]

Amazingly I was just talking about courgette blossoms the other day. There are some great recipes out there on the web, especially Mediterranean ones, and I'm going to try them myself when I get time after my exams. There's nothing wrong with thinking with your organs. It's an accusation that's been thrown at men for ages.

[Mona]

Frying squash blossoms brings me back to my childhood. My mother would often gather them from her garden, coat them in batter and fry them. Mmm! Still one of my favorite treats but I don't see blossoms in stores often and don't have a garden of my own.

[Rebecca]

Lindy, you're going to scream when you hear this, but I immediately threw my zucchini blossoms away! IMO, squash blossoms taste of nothing but what they are cooked/coated/stuffed/fried with, and have no real flavor of their own, and as I really didn't feel up to battering and/or frying anything or even doing much cooking this incredibly hot and humid week I thought, rather than have them molder away in the fridge I should just pitch them at once. I've gotten ruthless that way, although if there are some in there next week I'll be happy to donate them to you!

[lindy]

Aaaaaack! No, no, Rebecca! Threw them away? (Yes, I did scream, you're right)- Taste like nothing? I think they taste delicately of zucchini and something else lovely I can't quite put my finger on.
Actually, a friend at work who gets Kretschmann's farmbox gave me hers last week, and this week, too. (My feelings are clearly not universal.) I'm having a Squash Blossom orgy here. I put some in soup, and in ravis with goat cheese. Next stop: a risotto.

[Julie]

I was a little underwhelmed with zucchini blossoms when I tried them for the first time last year. I loved the delicate-crunchiness factor of the fried blooms but they seemed more about texture than flavor.

Last weekend I made zucchini blossoms stuffed with crabmeat inspired by a recipe I'd seen in Daniel Boulud's cookbook. It wasn't a success. I don't think either ingredient did much for the other. I'm trying again this week though with some sort of cheese stuffing.

[lindy]

Julie-I was lucky enough to get some more. I made a risotto with the addition of saffron, grated yellow summer squash, and some fresh peas. I sliced the squash blossoms thinly, and threw them in near the end. I really liked the flavors, and felt you could taste them separately, as well as together.

For stuffing, definitely the cheese, I think. I tried a mixture of mostly ricotta, with a bit of beaten egg, some grated parm, nutmeg, and sliced scallions. They were great fried up with batter, but appalingly rich. Great, but you wouldn't do it often, and what a mess, with the frying and the stuffing. Next time, I'm going to try baking them, stuffed, and with a little roasted tomato sauce.

[june]

Really really lovely photograph. Well done.

[june]

Really really lovely photograph. Well done.

[ann]

I've been looking for new ways to cook with squash blossoms, so thanks for that recipe. It's straight up my alley!