Nosh: Fiori di Zucca Fritti

Fiori di Zucca Fritti

My father grows squash the size of baseball bats in his little Queens, NY garden. For as long as I can remember, he has gathered the blossoms and passed them off to my mother in the kitchen. She would batter and fry them, and we'd secretly munch the crispy flowers before dinner was ready, stealing them from under the paper towels while she wasn't looking. She'd eventually catch us and we'd be forced to wait for Sunday dinner to be put on the table before diving into them again. It has been a long time since I've lived with my parents now, and the fiori di zucca are a rare pleasure in my memory. When we were kids, it never occured to us that this dish was anything different or special ... it was the norm. While other kids my age were eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or ham and cheese on toast, we'd sometimes have these leftover fried goodies as lunch, layered on sesame-crusted Italian bread.

Now I'll spot the fried blossoms every so often on a menu, usually stuffed with ricotta (heavy!), but I've yet to see them here in Germany. On Friday morning I set out for the infamous Viktualienmarkt - the large open air market in the center of Munich -- in search of my childhood memory, hoping to recreate this dish for IMBB #18. When I go to the Viktualienmarkt, the phrase "kid in a candy shop" comes to mind. They have absolutely anything you could wish for, laid out in a dazzling and colorful array of precision. I scanned the vegetable stalls ... and finally, I spotted a basket of bright orange blossoms at one of the last places I looked. To complement the fiori di zucca, now in my possession, I also purchased beautiful yellow-orange tomatoes, a half kilo of fresh pea pods, and two big peppery bunches of arugula.

Last year, my sister gave a wonderful book entitled "A Thousand Days in Venice". Without giving too much of the story away, it is the story of a foodie's love affair with Venice and a man she calls "the stranger". At the end of the book is a chapter called "Food for a Stranger" in which she gives a handful of the recipes she's prepared in the book. One of these -- you've got it! -- are the fried squash blosssoms. Here is an excerpt, recipe included.

fiori di zucca fritti

"To make this simple dish all you have to do is to slip the blossoms into a silk, thin batter and then fry them in oil until they're golden.....This isn't a thing you'd cook for a crowd. First, because no one is ever satisfied iwth just a blossom or two; it's always a half a dozen or more each person is hungry for, and he or she stands near the stove waiting for the next batch to brown and crisp, just like a puppy waiting for a treat.....So although I have made this dish for as many as four or five people, more often I fry the flowers just for Fernando and me. These and a bottle of flinty white chilled down almost to ice make our preferred lunch on a hot July afternoon."

the recipe

15 - 20 zucchini or squash blossoms;
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour;
beer;
sea salt to taste;
peanut oil

First, with a small pair of sharp scissors, snip each petal down to the stem to open the blossom more fully. If the stems are still attached, snip them off. Sprinkle the flowers with a little water and lay them to dry, stem-side up, petals spread out like a sunflower.

In a shallow, broad bowl, beat together the flour and enough beer to form a batter that is slightly thicker than double (heavy) cream. Stir in a little sea salt. Cover the batter and let it rest while the oil heats up.

Use peanut oil - a minimum depth of 7.5cm/3in in a heavy skillet - because it can reach the highest temperature without smoking. Heat the oil over a medium heat, as heating it too quickly results in cool spots, which result in uneven frying.

When all is ready, slide the blossoms, one at a time, into the batter first and then the hot oil; cook only a few at a time. As they turn deeply golden, remove them from the oil with tongs and allow them to sit a moment on absorbent kitchen paper.

You might grind a little sea salt over them, or even better, mist them lightly with sea-salted water. When thinking about the wine, you'll want a simple white that can stand a deep chilling, for it is the icy idea of wine more than the wine itself that works so well with the just-fried, crunchy flowers. Yield: 4 servings
(Recipe: Marlena di Blasi from her book, A Thousand Days in Venice: An Unexpected Romance, published by Virago Press)

accompaniment: this salad turned out so well, and was so delicious, I think it's going to be my new signature dish!

fresh pea, arugula, and yellow tomato salad with chives

1/2 kilograms (1 pound) fresh pea pods;
4 yellow or orange tomatoes;
2 big bunches of arugula;
a lemon;
1 tbsp unsalted butter;
olive oil;
large handful of freshly chopped chives;
sea salt and pepper to taste

remove the peas from their pods and steam them for about 10 minutes or until just tender. toss with 1 tbsp unsalted butter and a pinch of sea salt. roughly chop the tomatoes and sprinkle with sea salt. wash the arugula, dry, and toss with 1 tbsp olive oil (or more to taste). lay the arugula out on a platter, scatter the tomatoes, peas, and chives over. squeeze 1/2 a lemon over the salad, season with salt and pepper. Serve with fried squash blossoms.

ADDITIONAL PHOTOS: Photos 34 - 39 of Viktualienmarkt on a late November evening.