So maybe my garden is not the hopeless case I thought it was going to be when I wrote about it a few weeks ago.
Okay, there’s still a bald patch where the cucumbers committed vegecide, but I could just pretend that some lettuce was growing there and we already ate it. And the beans are promising to make a nice side dish for supper next week.
There’s even some unearned glory, as we never planted this:
But the real redemption that happened is this:
REAL tomatoes. In fact, I still had some fake cherry tomatoes from my last Costco shopping spree and they were downright embarrassed to share the counter with such beauties. They’re not going to show their faces around here for awhile.
Tomatoes aside, this time of year has me hankering for all the other garden offerings, even some over large zucchini squash, as the seeds I planted stood me up.
In that spirit, here’s a throwback homage (from my old column, with a few updates) to that oh-so-versatile veggie that holds up the end of the alphabet:
Every year a collective forgetfulness falls over all true vegetable gardeners. Inevitably, as they pass by the seed racks in the grocery stores, they pick up an extra package of zucchini seeds. Or perhaps it happened during the previous fall when they decided to dry an extra dozen or so. And then the funniest thing happens come planting time: they plant all of them! Or so it seems. Zucchini season hits and the squash are exploding off the vines faster than acne on a teenager.
If you don’t have a garden, you aren’t exempt from the onslaught. The sweet Ukrainian lady next door who, in the summertime, you only glimpse bobbing and weaving between her giant beanstalks and rows of oak-like corn, sneaks over in the early morning and deposits 2 or 3 zucchini in a Tom-Boy bag on your doorstep. Perhaps they are concealed under a few onions, some new potatoes and two or three cukes, but all the same they’re there. And you know it’s her because you’ve seen her stash of vintage plastic. But unlike the proverbial baby in the basket, she has left no instructions of what to do with them. She was just happy to have a break from making another batch of pineapple-zucchini marmalade. (Or from pretending that zucchini curls really do taste like pasta.)
So, once you’ve eaten your fill of zucchini bread, zucchini chocolate cake and you’ve canned enough zucchini jam for everyone under your Christmas tree, you may be ready for some creative zucchini alternatives. For instance, you could pretend you are any one of a number of fancy restaurants. After all, every time you go for a nice steak or chicken dinner, there it is on the side of your plate, a sautéed and garlicked pile of zucchini, disguised under the menu name “market vegetable”. (Or “gluten-free” spaghetti.)
After you’ve exhausted every edible zucchini possibility, why not practice your carving skills? Use a paring knife to create a one-of a kind table centrepiece out of a monster zucchini: a boat with a cabbage leaf sail, a totem pole, a pair of Dutch clogs, you name it. Or just cut one into a basket shape, leaving a “handle” and scooping out the pulp. Use this as a serving dish for carrot and celery sticks. (Or for collecting more zucchini from your garden.)
And finally, a truly Canadian option for the squash that got away on you: cut the zucchini lengthwise into slices approximately 1 inch thick and freeze them on cookie sheets. Once frozen, bag them, and then give them to your kids in the winter to use as hockey pucks on the backyard rink. It’ll make a great story for The Globe and Mail to dig up on your future Wayne Gretzky (Connor McDavid): “…so poor, the family couldn’t even afford a real puck…”
It may be time to take an axe (or a paring knife) to the zucchini’s reputation that it is a boring and over-productive vegetable. As the days of summer (and COVID-19) go on, a zucchini may very well be the answer to the next time your child says, “Mom, I’m bored!!!” A word of caution, however: you may just run out of zucchini.
(Oh, and P. S. Go Oilers.)