a taste of armageddon
the pesto cycle, and yes, I'm still thinking up ways to use zucchini
Is it too real to say that life has felt really hard lately, and is probably going to get worse before it gets better? The fire situation in the province and across other parts of the country weighs heavily on my mind, and having to search for a place to live is honestly so soul-sucking and leaves me with little energy for much else. Twice in the past week I’ve abandoned my cooking plans in favour of a quesadilla or frozen pizza, because I felt exhausted by the idea of even having to take the skin off an onion or whatever. Which isn’t a crime, I know, but it makes me feel even more defeated— that things which normally bring me a sense of comfort and accomplishment are made to feel impossible because of the way our society makes us continue to battle for the simple fact of our continued existence.
But, there’s still good. This weekend Jeff and I are celebrating 15 years together and our fifth wedding anniversary, and we’re also hosting a family barbecue for my dad, who turned 70 this week (something I am glad to do while we still have a yard to do it in). I also made the final payment on my student loans, and we celebrated by opening a bottle of sparkling wine we’d bought the year we got married. As a reward for no longer having to sacrifice $200 of my hard-earned money every month to the government, I bought myself the blu-ray set of Star Trek: The Original Series, which as you know will bring me untold amounts of joy. I can’t wait to clap my hands like a seal every time I see that little model Enterprise in the opening credits.
It seems impossible that during the Zucchini Weeks I somehow failed to remember this baked pasta, one of my all-time faves, until our plant had nearly stopped producing. The lemon, chili flakes, and herbs balance out the creaminess of the sauce and add a little punch to the mild zucchini— Deb says in the recipe you can use whatever herbs you’ve got around, but I particularly love the mint here against the lemon zest and mozza. Making this isn’t as involved as it might seem at a glance, but since the béchamel in the second step needs pretty much constant stirring, it’s best to prep everything else while the zucchini is cooking in the pan first.
I also like to add a little pasta water after I’ve put the noodles into the sauce, since I find it’s not as saucy as I want it to be after coming out of the oven when I make it as written. I used a stainless steel pan this time because I didn’t feel like cleaning my big cast iron first, but I really do recommend a cast iron for this: it will give you much nicer browned, crispy bits of cheese at the edge, if that’s something that’s important to you. It definitely is to me.
We made this pizza, an herby goat cheese base with lemon and thinly sliced zucchini, which I’ve made many times in the past, for the first time this summer. I wouldn’t recommend making this if you have to cut the zucchini by hand rather than with a mandoline or the slicing blade of a food processor, but if you do have one of those options available, it’s worth it and doesn’t even take long. I made this even faster by getting a package of chèvre that already had basil in it.
Jeff hadn’t made his usual batch of fermented pizza dough, so I used a one-hour version instead. It’s actually kind of nice here: like a Roman-style dough, it comes out crisp at the edges and with small pockets of air rather than the big bubbles you get in the longer fermentation types. The only downside is that I apparently ripped some holes in it while spreading out the goat cheese base, which is why the photo is of my plate rather than the whole thing. I’d forgotten to snap a pic when it came out of the oven, and then it was stuck to the pan in a few places, so it looked pretty mangled once we’d gotten the thing unstuck and sliced. But it’s still a very fresh-tasting and impressive pizza made with only a few ingredients and a little care in arranging the zucchini slices (an oddly satisfying task).
Jeff has been going over the border every Sunday for the past few weeks working to clean up a trailer his dad owns which has been sitting empty since before the pandemic (and wasn’t in a great state even before that), so I’ve been using the days alone at home to do things around the house and focus on making use of some of our garden bounty. I finally finished the last container of last summer’s pesto from the freezer, and made a new batch. I like this one because it’s vegan, freezes nicely, and is a bit more economical since you don’t have to use a king’s ransom of pine nuts or a significant portion of a wedge of parmesan. To freeze pesto successfully: spread it into a container and then press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface of the pesto before putting the lid on. Once it’s been frozen, I usually get what I need from the container by letting it thaw slightly on the counter while I’m doing other prep, then running a spoon under hot water to heat it and scoop some out.
When the pesto was done, I used the stems from the basil in another batch of tomato confit. The cherry tomato plants are finally slowing down— I was able to gather just enough for this. I finally fed my sourdough starters again after ignoring them and feeling guilty every time I opened the fridge for a month or so, so maybe soon I’ll make a fresh loaf of bread to eat with these tomatoes and some of the delicious leftover olive oil.
With the last of the old pesto, I made another forgotten fave: the pesto risotto with garlic-roasted zucchini from Isa Does It. This time of year I would have sliced the zucchini in half lengthwise and grilled it instead, but the smoke situation was so bad over the weekend that we had all the windows closed in the house and barbecuing didn’t seem like a good idea. I also decided to make the risotto in a three-quart pot instead of my large, deep pan like usual, and I’m happy about how much faster it turned out to be. And I’m glad that, as the number of zucchini in the fridge dwindles down, we’ve been able to use them without too many repeats, or meals that ended up being duds. Yes, I’m ready to move on, but I’m not totally sick of them!
I was glancing through Six Seasons for ideas for the larger tomatoes, which are ripening quickly now in the garden, and settled on a lovely-looking cold dish: spiced and marinated tomato slices topped with two different little salads that are easily thrown together while the tomatoes are marinating. The dish is Middle Eastern-inspired, using sumac, coriander, and chili flakes (I used aleppo) mixed with salt and raw garlic to season the tomatoes. The first topping is similar to tzatziki: small pieces of cucumber mixed into plain yogurt with chopped herbs and a little hot sauce. I think I probably used more cucumber than the recipe called for, but I enjoyed it this way to give the dish a little additional crunch.
The second topping is a quick salad made with whole or torn herbs, chickpeas, and onion in oil and vinegar. My red onion had become some kind of science experiment, and yellow onion would have been too strong here. I just mixed a little onion and garlic powders into the vinegar so the chickpeas wouldn’t be so plain, and it worked in a pinch. We served it with grilled flatbread as suggested to pick up the sauce and juices— not homemade, but thankfully the air was clear enough that we felt okay about using the barbecue for our IndianLife garlic naan.
We also made zucchini tuna melts again, similar to a couple of weeks ago: cooking zucchini down in the pan with some garlic, herbs, and chili flakes, then mixing in a can of oil-packed tuna and a little milk to help it blend together. I also added capers this time and loved the briny tang they added. The cheese here is cheddar, but I also think gruyère or pepper jack would work well.
Thanks for reading— if you enjoyed this newsletter, please share it with someone new! I like providing this to you for free, but it does still involve time and effort, so donations I can use towards cookbooks or future treats (or moving costs 😓) are much appreciated. Anyway, this is an eternal mood.