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Posted 01.05.08 Fried Flowers Of zucchini blossoms, my grandmother and the savory whiffs of summer. By Freda Moon Traversing the aisles of Bishop's Orchards Farm Market last weekend, I was consumed by the spirit of my maternal grandmother. Already in a food-lust, I found something I'd never seen for sale: zucchini blossoms. They were labeled as squash blossoms (and sold by the pound, about $3 for a box of 25) but were identical-in look and taste-to the large yellow flowers that my grandma used to drench in a simple flour-and-water batter (pastella) and deep fry. I squealed-to the shame of my stoic, war-surviving dead grandmother-then rejoiced in the merits of a great produce market with the same lapsed-Catholic, "food is my religion" tones that she used when describing the perfect head of garlic. Pre-"foodie," pre-Chowhound, pre-Food Network, my grandma was a connoisseur in the most fundamental sense. It took her an hour to shop for one night's meal because she so thoroughly combed the aisles of her local big-box grocery in search of the right, ripe ingredients. She was a woman of unrefined tastes (she loved WWF wrestling and gaudy, crystalline figures), whose food knowledge was not learned so much as intuited. Before she was Maria Oswalt-a war bride abandoned by her serviceman in Salem, Oregon-my grandma was Maria Mongillo, one of eight children from a peasant family outside of Naples, Italy. She had an incredible green thumb (with a garden I remember almost as vividly as her cooking) and grew zucchini along with her prized azaleas, grapes and pickling cucumbers. The blossoms-coated in a crisp yet spongy, straw-gold skin-served in her tiny kitchen were a summer delicacy I've never seen on any menu. I crave them every time I smell the first whiffs of summer (an olfactory cocktail of mud, flowers and decomposing vegetation). I'm not alone. Russ Geary, Bishop's Orchards' produce manager, says they pick and sell about 20 packages of the male flowers (the females grow into zucchini) every day. Bishop's has to be careful, he explains, not to pick more than will be bought. The flowers are delicate and wilt within a day of leaving the vine. But, he adds, "they are absolutely beautiful." Zucchini blossoms are eaten throughout Greece, Italy, France and Mexico. They're often stuffed with feta, ricotta or mozzarella and sometimes meat-lamb or prosciutto-and herbs. But my grandmother's blossoms were unadorned fiori fritti della zucchini, a recipe too simple not to share: Take zucchini blossoms (as open, bright and bug-free as possible, with stems attached). Dip them in a thin batter of one part flour and one part water, with salt to taste. Fry them in a pan of hot oil (one part olive oil to one part vegetable is best) until golden brown. Serve hot, with a salt shaker and a lemon wedge. In the few days after I was reunited-via the spiritual force that is a family recipe-with my grandmother, zucchini blossoms began to appear to me. Recipes for battered, stuffed, sauteed and stir-fried zucchini blossoms came in the mail (in the pages of Sunset magazine); the menu of Ninth Square's newest restaurant, Foster's, offers a "Zucchini blossoms, shrimp salmon mousse, Meyer lemon glaze" appetizer; and Chowhound, the online Holy Ground for foodies, displayed page after eager page of requests for blossoms (where to find them, fresh and prepared, was a common concern). At Foster's Restaurant, the blossoms are served as a vessle for a salmon-heavy seafood mouse that was omelete-like-spongy and eggy-and almost entirely indistinguishable as zucchini. Using blossoms in this way is fine, but the blossoms themselves are such a unique flavor, it seems a waste to overwhelm them. Bishop's Orchards Farm Market 1355 Boston Post Rd., Guilford. (203) 453-2338 bishopsorchards.com Foster's Restaurant 56-62 Orange St., New Haven. (203) 859-6666 fostersrestaurant.com fmoon@newhavenadvocate.com |
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