Zucchini "Pasta"

I came across this recipe in the last Real Simple magazine - my mother-in-law sends them to me.  I was intrigued by the raw zucchini shavings made into a salad.

Turns out, the flavor is wonderful and it feels like playing to strip the zucchini down with my vegetable peeler to make the zucchini shavings. I really can't call it "pasta" again - that's just corny.  Should we call it Zucchini Surprise, or does that bring up bad casserole memories?  I was really surprised at the success of this method!  Let's go with a cookbook editor name. . . .

Surprising Zucchini Salad
Serves 4

1-2 Tbsp. white wine vinegar
1-2 Tbsp. olive oil
 1/3 cup snipped fresh mint
1/3 cup cooked, diced sausage or bacon or salami or something like that
1/4 cup shaved fresh Parmesan (I use the vegetable peeler again and keep them small)
1 big zucchini
salt
lots of freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup toasted chopped hazelnuts

In a salad bowl, mix oil and vinegar to emulsify. Add some salt and pepper here - more pepper later.  Toss in mint, sausage (I used kielbasa diced fine), and Parmesan.  Use a vegetable peeler to shave off narrow strips of the zucchini (turn it frequently as you shave) until you get to the seeds.  Discard the seedy part to the compost, the chickens, or the vulturish kids. Toss the salad immediately before serving, adding more black pepper, and sprinkling the hazelnuts on top.  I'm sorry to say that leftovers get a little weepy and the hazelnuts will get soft.

Now that I know about zucchini shavings, I would like to experiment with other types of pasta-like salads since zucchini has such a neutral flavor.  I've even seen cooks putting spaghetti sauce on zucchini "spaghetti."

Ben Irons

He did not want to, but when I taught him how to use the iron today, his love of order took over.  He took pleasure in getting out the wrinkles and matching up the corners.  However, I stood by him the entire time because newbies tend to forget to set the hot iron up on its heel.  Sure enough, we had some close calls as four napkins were ironed.

Ben wanted to know why he needed to iron and I told him so that he could iron his shirts if he wanted to wear dress shirts when he's a man. I suddenly recalled that his father does not iron his own shirts.  I kept this realization to myself.  There's no need for logic in raising children, am I right?

He also learned to mow the yard this summer.  The most important part was remembering to put on actual shoes, not flip flops.  There are lots of skippers, but as our yard is not very tidy to begin with, it doesn't matter.

And here, for a bonus, is Genevieve washing the laundry room floor. I can't think of a new chore she learned this summer, unless it's answering the phone.  She would call that pure fun, however, and it's great entertainment for the callers.

So Many Ways with Tomatoes

Really, we practically eat fresh tomatoes three meals a day in summer.  They are just so good, fast, and versatile.

Here are some old favorites and new discoveries.

Panzanella, Italian bread salad.  I had heard of this before, but Jane made it look totally accessible and delicious.  I didn't even bother to write down her recipe, but just tasted as I went along.  To make sure the bread has a sturdy texture,  I usually toast it a bit before I chop it.  The flavors of this salad remind me strongly of bruschetta, another summer favorite.

Here's a retro favorite:  tomato slices with dollops of mayonnaise and a sprinkle of sugar and salt (and I hotted it up with freshly ground pepper).

on the porch at the beach cottage

Sliced tomatoes with eggs and toast, an interesting discussion we had a few years back.

Another old favorite with a new twist: caprese salad.  But this time, I just used a mild white cheese because I didn't have any mozzarella.  Still wonderful.

More from the archives:

my version of redeye gravy
fabulous tomato gravy
lettuce-tomato with beef
10-minute all-in-one supper (and don't forget its cold cousin, tomato sandwiches:  good bread, mayo, salt, pepper, and tomato slices)

How are you eating tomatoes these days?

Oh, Jeni

You have changed my dessert life.  Well, probably my whole flavor life.  I never knew that basil ice cream could be so perfect.  Or that corn on the cob needed to be in ice cream.  Oh, Jeni.  You are a genius with flavors.  Every time I doubt, you prove me wrong.  I love looking at the flavor pairings you suggest.  Of course an olive oil cake and a Parmesan tuile sounds perfect with sweet basil ice cream studded with pine nut pralines.  Of course!  Absolutely I should eat baked rhubarb frozen yogurt with Champagne. But I would never think of these things on my own.

sweet corn with black raspberry sauce on the left, sweet basil with pine nuts on the right

And your ice cream recipes give such a luscious texture.  Truly, I think your ice cream recipes make the best ice cream ever and I'm not biased because it's home food that I made.  I really think you are a genius.  One of these days I am going to drive through Ohio in search of a Jeni's shop so I can see if what I make in my kitchen is just like yours. But in the meantime, I am so very satisfied with black coffee ice cream, the Buckeye State ice cream, Bangkok peanut, and why have I not tried the beet ice cream yet?  It has mascarpone, orange zest, and poppy seeds in it -  I know I can trust you.

My friend Christy and I spent a long time discussing your recipes recently.  Christy had family over for an ice cream parlor experience with four of your flavors and pretzels.  Isn't that fun?

 I'm taking your book to a friend soon, and I can think of about three more friends that I should buy it for.  Thank you, Jeni, for generously sharing your knowledge with the rest of us.

Gratefully,

Margo

A Cottage Clothespin Bag

The clothespins at the beach cottage were in a Ziploc bag.  Not only very unattractive, but not easy to maneuver with a clothesline and wet towels.  I proposed to my mother-in-law that I make a clothespin bag.  It was pure fun. To make it cottage-sized, I used a child's plastic hanger.   I limited myself to my small-scraps box to piece the exterior.  For fun, I used a decorative machine stitch in aqua on several seams.

 Might have to make some hotpads in those delicious sherbet colors. . . 

The July Garden

First, you must understand that I have only photographed the nice things that are growing, okay?  I'm going to tell you about the bad parts, but I can't bear to take pictures of them.

bay tree

mint in old pot courtesy of Genevieve

First, the bad:

A number of tomato plants, volunteer and commercially grown, have wilted dramatically in what I assume is blight.  It's definitely not a watering issue.  I have carefully pulled out the offenders as soon as possible and bagged them up for the trash.  The blight spores can fly through the air and poison other tomato plants, so it's important to be a golden-rule gardener.  I also read (too late!) that soil that has been contaminated by blighted tomatoes should not be used to grow tomatoes for two years.  I've been growing tomatoes in the same spots for several years now.  Whoops.

growing. . . for now

Now my pretty little French melon vine has wilted dramatically, too.  No sign of powdery mildew, so apparently, Rebecca says it's probably squash-borers.  I really can't bear to speak about this more - let's change the subject. . . .

to my struggling herbs in their too-wet bed, and my stunted raspberries in their too-shallow bed.  Here's some hope:  I'm going to switch their beds this fall!

And more hope:  the green beans and peppers are growing nicely!  I sprinkled some epsom salts around all the veggies yesterday (thank you, Pinterest).  I've also been grinding up my empty egg shells and sprinkling the powder in the soil for calcium.

My front porch pots are doing famously.

a surprising coleus volunteer in the back - winter savory in the front

The back yard looks like a weedy mess if you're accustomed to manicured suburban lawns, but the front porch pots look beautiful and they supply us with herbs!  Rebecca just gave me the brilliant idea to put a few herb sprigs and a chunk of citrus or cucumber in the water pitcher for a lovely flavored water.  This is winter savory and lime.  We love it, especially the children because they can make it themselves and there's no limit on how much they can drink.

I've been drying sprigs of sage, thanks to my friend A.  She picked up the Middle Eastern custom of swishing a sage sprig in a cup of hot black tea with sugar.  It's divine.

I'm formulating a garden plan for next year:  no tomatoes, to give the soil a chance to recover, but lots of cucumbers and green beans and maybe a squash or two.  Concentrate on herbs, because I really want more sage and tarragon.  And bees - I'd love to add bees.

(linking up with pretty/happy/funny/real and hoping Leila doesn't mind that I was rather casual about the categories)

A Gazpacho Discovery

We came back from vacation to a forgotten tomato and cucumber salad in the fridge.  I make variations on the theme all summer long:  sliced cucumbers, sweet onion, tomatoes, dressed with a little vinegar, olive oil, salt, pepper, and usually a few snippets of basil.  Sometimes I use lemon instead of vinegar.  Sometimes I add bell pepper or subtract another vegetable.  Whatever.  The only problem with this salad is that it is best eaten fresh; leftovers can get mushy.

In this case, I had a sudden idea at 6 am : what if I stuck my immersion blender in the leftover salad and called the result gazpacho?  It looked reasonable when it was done, so I packed it into my honey's lunchbox.  That evening, I asked him how he liked his gazpacho and he was quite enthusiastic.  Score!  Hooray for a salad that morphs into a summer soup!