{"id":282,"date":"2013-09-21T04:11:00","date_gmt":"2013-09-21T08:11:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2013\/09\/21\/over-and-over-and-over"},"modified":"2015-12-15T19:03:09","modified_gmt":"2015-12-16T00:03:09","slug":"over-and-over-and-over","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2013\/09\/over-and-over-and-over\/","title":{"rendered":"Over and over and over"},"content":{"rendered":"

It was a summer of greatest hits. I\u2019ve always been a redundant cook, content to repeat a couple dozen recipes over and over (and over and over and over), recipes that I know as though they were wired into me, the way I know my name, the alphabet, and lyrics to songs that haven\u2019t seen radio play since Bill Clinton was president. (Wheeeeee<\/a>…) This summer, I really let myself run wild in that department, which is to say that I have done nothing even vaguely wild, and it has been great<\/i>.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve made meatballs three times now, my best meatballs<\/a>, which are Cafe Lago<\/a>\u2019s recipe cooked in Marcella Sauce<\/a>. There was a batch of Lago\u2019s pomodori al forno<\/a>, too, using San Marzano tomatoes from the farmers\u2019 market. I made Amanda Hesser\u2019s exceptional almond cake<\/a> again, this time pressing a dozen apricot halves into the batter and sprinkling them with sugar before baking. I made a batch of Dana Cree\u2019s tried-and-true rhubarb compote<\/a> with butter and orange liqueur and, in a moment of uncharacteristic foresight, put it in the freezer for winter. I\u2019ve made my new standard granola recipe at least a half-dozen times: the Early Bird granola<\/a>, but with no brown sugar and no dried cherries, with a touch less maple syrup and olive oil, and with almonds and walnuts and extra coconut in place of the seeds and pecans. Very weirdly, in a woo-woo cosmic way, I found myself making banana cereal muffins<\/a> on the same day this year that I made them last year, September 7th, the day that I was in early labor. And for June\u2019s first birthday, my mother and I baked carrot cake<\/a>\u00a0–\u00a0which, for the record, June was not terribly into. (She\u2019s more into blueberries<\/a>. And this week, lamb soup with cannellini beans<\/a>, and being a regular cut-up<\/a>.)<\/p>\n

But the best thing that I made this summer, and made and made and made, was Rachel<\/a>\u2019s zucchini cooked in olive oil<\/a>, a plain name for a dish that tastes anything but. (It also looks pretty plain – not an insult; just a statement of fact – so, behold! A slightly blurry picture of a few zucchini before they were cooked.)<\/p>\n

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In general, I tend to be boring with zucchini. I roast it. The end. For a while, about ten years ago, I was briefly into simmering it in a tomatoey sauce with capers, a recipe that I pulled out of a magazine and had forgotten about until approximately one minute ago, when I started this sentence. But mostly, I roast it – until I found Rachel\u2019s wonderful method, and now, for the foreseeable future, I will be doing zucchini this way. If there\u2019s still summer squash at your local market, or if you\u2019re one of those people burdened with a glut of it from your own garden – a problem I would like to have someday – hop to it, as my mother says.<\/p>\n

Rachel\u2019s zucchini is beautifully Italian in its simplicity. There\u2019s nothing to it but olive oil, garlic, basil, and zucchini that\u2019s had the living daylights cooked out of it. I grew up believing that vegetables should be cooked so that they still have fight in them: green beans should squeak between your teeth, snap peas should snap, and the color of broccoli should never, ever be indistinguishable from an olive. But in the past few years, as I tip into early middle-age – as my friend Ben soooooooo politely put it a week ago, when I turned 35 – I have come to understand that not all vegetables want to be served al dente, and that many stand to benefit from being forgotten on the stove for a while. Take, for example, Francis Lam\u2019s eggplant sauce for pasta<\/a>, another recipe that made repeat performances this summer. And this zucchini.<\/p>\n

It begins with an unflinching amount of olive oil and a couple of whole garlic cloves. You warm them together in a large skillet for a few minutes, so that the garlic perfumes the oil, and then you fish out the former and toss it. Then you add the zucchini to the pan and stir it well, so that it\u2019s coated in that good, garlicky oil, and you let it coast like that, cooking slowly and steadily, until it\u2019s very soft – almost soft enough to fall apart, but not quite – and then you stir in a few torn-up basil leaves, and it\u2019s done. The first time I made this zucchini, I took a hint from Rachel and ate mine at warmish room temperature, with some fresh mozzarella and crusty bread for sopping. Subsequent times, I served it next to scrambled eggs, stirred into pasta, and, for June, chopped finely and topped with crumbled sheep\u2019s milk feta. But I think I like it best with just milky cheese and bread, straight from the skillet. The zucchini is almost melty in its softness, and the faint whiff of garlic, the olive oil, and the fresh basil together push the same buttons that pesto does, but with less work. I could eat it every day, and for another couple of weeks, I probably will.<\/p>\n

P.S. This week on our craft cocktails column for Food52, a last hurrah for tomatoes<\/a>! HURRAH. I love <\/i>that cocktail. (I make mine with gin.)
\nP.P.S. What are your greatest hits, recipe-wise?<\/p>\n\n

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Recipe<\/div>\n

Rachel's Zucchini<\/h2>\n

Adapted from this recipe<\/a><\/h3> \n \n <\/header>\n\n
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