There's Never Too Much

The other day I came home from the farmers market with so much zucchini the overflow from my refrigerator filled a big bowl on my counter. Every time I walked by I was torn between admiring the still life -- the usual suspects up against new Italian heirlooms with white stripes, and softball-round French squash, and almost black-hued hybrids -- and looking forward to getting my hand on a knife.

Usually in August the mantra is "too much zucchini." My attitude is: Bring 'em on.

Zucchini is not some commodity to be sublimated in soups and side dishes and breads any old time of year. It's one of the most wondrous ingredients available to the seasonally sensitive. And if you get it while it's young and tender, it can outperform far more glamorous and less prolific produce.

I'm convinced deprivation leads to inspiration, though. I buy zucchini only this time of year, averting my eyes from the obvious green alternative to broccoli in supermarkets in fall and winter. By the time the first skinny squash turn up in my farmers market, I'm ready to exploit and explore its unique, almost nutty flavor in new and old ways. Unlike so many cooks who are sick of zucchini even before it goes huge and woody on them, I see it as an irresistible option.

Most of the recipes crammed into the "Too Much Zucchini" canon have only one goal: burning through as much squash as possible, with no regard for nuances in flavor and texture. But zucchini is best approached like any short-term pleasure. Frying is one of the most reflexive ways to cook it, for instance, yet if you slice it thicker and don't just dust it with flour but coat it in a batter more suited to an onion ring you'll wind up with a basketful of something irresistible. The center of the slices will soften just enough, while the casing will emerge from the oil as crisp and fragile as pastry.

Grated zucchini can also be made into madeleines to great effect, with an almost quiche-like batter bulked up with flecks of green. The delicate combination of squash, cheese and basil is worlds away from the workhorse casseroles of the "Too Much" realm.

Green, and beyond

I always start my summer by braising half-moons of zucchini in a basic tomato-basil-garlic sauce, almost as a ritual. Then I might try a Provencal-style gratin: diced chunks simmered with garlic and herbs, then baked with cream and eggs and a layer of cheese. In both cases, the zucchini is not vanquished but transformed.