Too much zucchini? Nah, never
It’s high zucchini season in my garden. The wide leaves are reaching for the sky, trying to soak up the rain or sun and whatever the elements have planned. Underneath the leaves, near the base of the plant — sometimes very hidden — the fruits grow.
Zucchini and yellow summer squashes are prolific, abundant and sometimes overwhelming. Picked young, they are sweet and crisp. If they’re overgrown, like the one that got away because of the neverending rain, they resemble big, seedy baseball bats. They can be hollowed out and stuffed, but I have no qualms about heaving them down the hill to or at the groundhog.
This year I grew three types of zucchini; one yellow with white stripes called ‘Goldmine,’ one green with white stripes called ‘Safari’ and a solid green one, ‘Spineless Perfection.’ The striped ones are very cheery and, bonus, they’re easy to spot. My second planting includes an old-fashioned yellow crookneck summer squash and a green zucchini called ‘Dunja.’
I also hope to plant a squash mentioned in a new book by Salma Hage, “The Middle Eastern Vegetarian Cookbook.” Called Lebanese zucchini, it seems to be a ‘ Cousa’ variety with a light green outer skin and a fatter bottom. My seed cataloguecarries one called ‘Magda.” The squash also is known as ‘Lebanese White Bush Marrow’ butwhat’s in a name?
Zucchini and summer squash produce like crazy, until they don’t. No matter what you do, unless, you heavily spray with chemicals (please don’t), or maybe if you have chickens (they eat bugs), it falls prey to viruses and wilting diseases, courtesy of the squash borer and striped and spotted cucumber beetle. This is why I do a second planting.
What can you do with all this zucchini? Freestyle it or go with these keeper recipes: Toss slices in a skillet with olive oil, sweet onion and halved cherry tomatoes. Finish with basil. Add chunks to casseroles or soups. Grilling is good. Cut it into fat strips or wedges, toss in olive oil with a pinch of crushed red pepper and line them up on the grill.
If you’re really inundated, and the family cries “no more zucchini,” don’t leave them on the neighbor’s doorstep and run away. Instead deliver them to your post office, with bags for people to load up (get permission first). Or take it to a soup kitchen. Someone will appreciate your fresh homegrown produce. Promise.