Summer Squash Gratin with Salsa Verde & Gruyère



Most of the time when I think of a vegetable gratin, I think of thinly sliced potatoes and root vegetables baked with cream in a wide, shallow dish until meltingly tender and browned on top. (If you aren't familiar with this type of gratin, I posted a recipe for one last November.) But of course this isn't the only type of vegetable gratin. Any vegetable (or combination of vegetables)—sliced or not—baked in a shallow dish and browned on top (gratinéed) is a vegetable gratin. A few years ago I ran across an unusual recipe for a Summer Squash Gratin in Suzanne Goin's Sunday Suppers at Lucques. Whereas the more well-known gratins are made rich with cream and are more appropriate for winter dining, this one featured olive oil and lots of fresh herbs—making it a perfect addition to the summer table.

One of the reasons I like this gratin is that when it comes out of the oven the squash is just tender—not soft and mushy. Goin employs a couple of techniques to insure this result. The first is to salt the squash slices to draw out as much excess liquid as possible before assembling the gratin.

Summer squash is loaded with water. If some of this water isn't removed before baking, it would be released during the cooking process. The squash would boil in its own liquid and the resulting gratin would be unappetizingly soggy.

To further guard against producing a wet and sloppy gratin, Goin puts breadcrumbs in the gratin—not just on top of it. These additional breadcrumbs absorb any liquid not removed by the salting process. The breadcrumbs are also a great source of additional flavor. Before adding them, they are tossed with browned butter (see my post on Butter Pecan Ice Cream for more information on browned butter). The nuttiness of the browned butter emphasizes the mildly nutty character of the summer squash.

To make the fresh breadcrumbs, use a "day old" loaf of a nice artisanal style bread. A country French boule, a good baguette or a substantial ciabatta would all be fine. If I happen to have it on hand, I've found that a local bakery's Rosemary and Olive Oil bread is a particularly good choice. If the crusts of your loaf are unusually hard, cut them off and just use the interior of the loaf. Tear the bread into chunks and put it in the food processor and process until you have coarse crumbs.

The main thing that attracted me to this gratin in the first place was its use of salsa verde. Salsa verde is one of my favorite sauces—especially for summer foods. (Regular readers may remember that I wrote about it earlier this month.) But when I use salsa verde, I almost always use it as a finishing touch—drizzled over vegetables or fish, for example. This recipe used it as a component...adding it to the gratin before it was baked. As the gratin bakes, the squash is infused with the vibrant flavors of the sauce.

This recipe is typical of the kinds of recipes used in restaurant kitchens in that it uses another completed recipe as an ingredient.  In a restaurant setting, this is a huge time saver.  But for the home cook, it probably seems like a lot of work to make the Salsa Verde just to add it to the gratin. You could of course simply incorporate all of the ingredients that are in the salsa verde directly into the gratin and forgo making the sauce separately. But if you do go to the trouble of making the sauce, you will have a nice drizzle for whatever meat you are serving with the gratin—which is what Goin suggests in her book. Another work-saving option would be to plan for two meals and make a large batch of salsa verde. Serve it the first night as a sauce and then use it the next night in the gratin.

The important thing is to avoid making the mistake of bypassing this recipe because it looks complicated. If broken down into steps (sliced squash, browned butter-breadcrumbs, salsa verde, grated cheese, seasonings)—all of which can be done ahead—the final dish can be assembled and baked quickly. And it is so worth making...even if you think you don't like summer squash. This could be the dish that changes your mind.

Summer Squash Gratin with Salsa Verde & Gruyère

1 1/2 c. fresh breadcrumbs (see note)
3 T. unsalted butter
2 lbs. summer squash
3/4 c. thinly sliced shallots
1 t. minced garlic (1 large or 2 small cloves)
1 T. fresh thyme leaves
1/2 c. salsa verde
4 oz. grated Gruyère (about 1 cup)
Salt & Pepper

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl. In a small sauté pan cook the butter over medium heat for a few minutes, swirling occasionally, until it begins to brown and smells nutty.   Pour the butter over the breadcrumbs, scraping in all of the browned bits. When cool enough to handle, toss to combine. Set aside.

Using a mandoline-type slicer, cut the squash into 1/8-inch thick slices, slicing on a long diagonal if you are using Zucchini-type summer squashes. Toss the squash slices with 1 t. kosher salt and place in a colander set over a plate. Let stand 10 minutes.

Transfer the squash to a large bowl, shaking off as much of the liquid as possible. (If you are so inclined, spread the squash in a rough layer on a double thickness of paper towels and blot dry—this is a bit more effective than shaking the liquid off—then transfer to the bowl.)

Add the remaining ingredients and half of the breadcrumbs and season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss until the ingredients are well combined and evenly distributed. Taste and correct the seasoning.

Transfer the squash to a shallow 2-quart gratin (roughly 9- by 9-inches). Scatter the remaining breadcrumbs over the top and bake in a preheated 400° oven until the squash is tender and the top is golden and crisp—about 35 to 40 minutes. Serve hot or at room temperature. Serves 8.

(Recipe adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, by Suzanne Goin)

Fresh Peach Ice Cream

 
When I was a kid I never looked forward to peach season...I never even noted its occurrence. The only peaches I had ever tasted were the ones sold at grocery stores. They were almost always devoid of flavor and dry...or worse, mealy (Is there anything worse than a mealy piece of fruit?). Like much of the produce that filled the produce aisles in the grocery stores of my childhood, there was nothing about them to love or desire.
 
I don't remember when I learned that peaches grew in abundance in my home state, but I will never forget the summer we discovered the ripe, just-picked Missouri peaches being sold at the farmers' market. They were juicy beyond belief, sweet and loaded with flavor. Now every summer I wait with great anticipation for the arrival of the early crop.

We are very lucky in that the Missouri peach season is long and abundant. Some years we are able to enjoy local peaches into September. For a small household of two we go through an astonishing number of peaches each week. I eat one almost every day for breakfast...and I am always tucking them into cakes, muffins, tarts, crisps, salads, compotes and homemade jam. It would not feel like summer if there weren't a bowl of peaches sitting on our kitchen counter.

 
This year while trying to come up with a seasonal dessert to create a sweet ending for a July class, I thought of peach ice cream. After making it, I think I have found a new favorite peach dessert. Intensely peach-y and creamy...as a friend said, "the essence of peaches and cream"....it is the perfect summer treat and an excellent means of showcasing the best of the local crop.
 
To obtain that intense peach flavor, I combined the peaches with a small amount of sugar and some lemon

 
and cooked them down to concentrate their flavor—somewhat like making jam (but with a lot less sugar).  Cooking the peaches before adding them to the custard base is a bit of an unusual step.  I have only come across two peach ice cream recipes that use cooked peaches...one by Dorie Greenspan and another from Gourmet. Most recipes simply use peeled and puréed fresh peaches. The reason for this is there is a premium placed on "fresh" peach flavor. But since fresh fruit is loaded with water, when the fresh peach purée is further diluted with custard the peach flavor of the ice cream is a bit faint. I can't say for sure, but I suspect that the high water content of the purée would also tend to produce a slightly icier final texture.
 
I made two different test batches of peach ice cream. One used a custard base made with all cream and the other used a base made of half cream and half milk. The one made with all cream was an over-the-top, rich and creamy, ice cream experience. But after a few bites, it was just a bit too rich...even for me. Also, it seemed to be more about cream than peaches—the extra fat softened the peach flavor. The one I made with half milk was still very creamy, but it was also refreshing. And best of all the peach flavor was front and center...a true celebration of the peach.
 
If you like ice cream...and you like peaches...I think you will love this ice cream. And even if you don't live in a peach producing state, you shouldn't have too much trouble finding juicy, tree-ripened peaches that were grown somewhere not too far from where you live. In recent years, grocery stores have begun to respond to the demand for foods that are more regionally sourced. I discovered that a grocery store near my home began carrying the tree-ripened local crop a few summers ago. And it was during my last visit that I noticed a huge display of peaches, conspicuously separate from the California peaches, with a sign that proclaimed "Missouri peaches have arrived!" I guess a lot of people have begun to look forward to peach season....

 
 

Peach Ice Cream

 
1 1/3 lb. ripe peaches (4 medium), peeled, pitted and sliced (see note)
2 t. lemon juice
1/3 c. sugar
 
1 c. cold heavy cream
1 c. whole milk
6 egg yolks
1/4 c. sugar
a pinch of salt
1/4 c. honey (3 oz.)—gently warmed, if not pourable
1/8 t. almond extract
 
Prepare the peaches: Place the peaches, lemon juice and 1/3 c. sugar in a medium saucepan and stir to combine. Place the pan over medium to medium-high heat and bring to a simmer.

 
When the peaches begin to soften (after about 5 minutes), mash with a potato masher

 
and continue to simmer briskly, stirring regularly, until you have a thick peach compote (about 20 to 25 minutes total cooking time). Any large pieces of peach that remain should be very soft. Stir more often as the compote thickens to keep it from sticking and scorching. If you would like a smoother purée, transfer the compote to a food processor and process to the desired texture. You should have 1 3/4 to 2 cups peach compote. Chill.

Prepare the custard: Place the cup of cold cream in a medium-sized bowl and place in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
 
Place the milk in a medium-sized, non-reactive saucepan and bring to a boil. While the milk mixture is heating, whisk the egg yolks with the 1/4 c. of sugar and the salt until thick. When the milk boils, temper the egg yolks by gradually whisking in about 1/2 c. of the hot milk mixture. Stir the tempered egg mixture back into the saucepan and place the pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring constantly, until the custard begins to thicken and a path forms when you draw your finger across the custard-coated back side of the spoon—an instant-read thermometer will read about 175°. Immediately strain the custard into the bowl of cold cream. Stir in the honey and the almond extract. Refrigerate (or place in an ice bath) until cold, stirring occasionally. Cover until ready to use.
 
Prepare the ice cream: Combine the cold custard and the peach compote.

Freeze the ice cream in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Transfer to a freezer container and freeze for an hour or two before serving. Makes one quart peach ice cream.
 
Note: To peel the peaches, cut a small slash on the bottom (the "blossom end") of each peach. Place the peaches in a heat-proof bowl. Pour boiling water over the peaches and let them sit for 30 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the peaches to a towel and let them sit until they are cool enough to handle (a minute or two). Using a paring knife and your thumb, grab the peel at the slit and pull. The peel should come away easily in three of four pieces.

Printable Recipe

Summer Pasta with Sweet Corn & Zucchini

I love the combination of sweet corn and summer squash. Even if their growing seasons didn't coincide, they would make natural partners—the sweet juiciness of the corn playing nicely off of the mild, nuttiness of the summer squash. In the short space of time that I have been keeping a blog, this combination has made an appearance at least twice. Last June I posted a risotto featuring the pair and then a few days later they appeared in a quick vegetable sauté to go with salmon. If you shop at your local farmers' market or are a member of a CSA, it is likely that you have them both in your kitchen right now—they are two of the most prolific vegetables of the summer season. Together they are summer on a plate.

One of my favorite summer dinners is a simple dish of pasta dressed with a sauté of zucchini and sweet corn. In my classes I always tell people that you can always make a quick "sauce" for pasta with a sauté of seasonal vegetables. Simply bind them with a convenient liquid (a little extra butter or olive oil...or both... maybe some cream or some stock), toss them with an appropriately shaped noodle and finish the whole thing with a little pasta cooking liquid. As with any vegetable sauté, garlic or onions can be added and fresh herbs are always welcome. Because summer vegetables tend to cook quickly, in most cases you can sauté the vegetables in about the amount of time it will take to cook the pasta.

I love the simple and clean flavors of this particular pasta. I have been making it for almost as long as I have been cooking. I never vary it too much...sometimes I use Pecorino cheese and sometimes Parmesan...but other than that it stays pretty much the same. I'm sure it would be fine with some caramelized summer onions, or maybe a few green beans that have been cut in short lengths and boiled in the pasta water (as in the vegetable sauté I posted a year ago). The basil could also be replaced (or augmented) with thyme, marjoram or oregano. In her book Chez Panisse Vegetables, Alice Waters makes a very similar recipe, replacing the basil with cilantro and adding a finely minced jalapeño with the garlic. She tosses hers with fettuccine, but I prefer orecchiette (or some other small shell-like pasta). I'm particularly attached to the way the little cupped shape of the noodle cradles the tiny diced squash and the corn.

Most of the time I encourage people to play with recipes—varying them to suit their tastes and their pantries.  But this time, while corn and summer squash are at their seasonal peak, I recommend sampling this pasta just as it is written.  Take advantage of the opportunity to experience the current year's corn and zucchini at their summery best.

Summer Pasta with Sweet Corn & Zucchini

1 lb. orecchiette, shells or farfalle pasta
2 to 3 T. olive oil
12 to 16 oz. small zucchini (about 4 or 5), cut in a 1/3-inch dice
2 to 4 T. unsalted butter
2 to 3 cloves of garlic, finely minced
3 to 4 medium ear of corn (about 3 c. cut kernels)
a handful of basil, cut in a fine chiffonade
salt & pepper to taste
Freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino, optional

In a sauté pan just large enough to hold the squash in a loose single layer, heat the oil over medium to medium-high heat. Add the squash and sauté until it is beginning to turn golden in spots and is just tender, but not soft—about 3 or 4 minutes.

Add a tablespoon or so of butter and the garlic, followed by the corn. Season with salt & pepper and continue to cook until the corn is tender—another 3 to 5 minutes. If the vegetables seem dry, add more butter.

While the vegetables are cooking, cook the pasta into 6 quarts of rapidly boiling water seasoned with about 2 Tablespoons of salt. Stir and cook until the pasta is al dente. (It works out fairly well for this pasta to start cooking the pasta at the same time you start to sauté the zucchini.)

Drain the pasta (reserving some of the pasta water) and add it to the vegetables along with the basil and another couple of tablespoons of butter. Toss the pasta and add enough of the reserved pasta water to make a thin film of buttery liquid coating the pasta—there should not be any liquid pooling in the bottom of the pan. Add more butter and/or more pasta water to achieve the desired consistency. Serve, sprinkled with more basil and grated Parmesan or Pecorino if you like. Serves 4 to 6.

Printable Version

Salsa Verde



One of my favorite sauces is the Italian Salsa Verde. I tend to make it mostly during the summer months. But its zesty and bright presence is as welcome an addition to the rich braised meats of winter as it is to the grilled meats, fish and vegetables of summer. Salsa verde compliments so many different foods, if you have some on hand, it will never go to waste.

Earlier this week I made some to serve with pork tenderloin....

the next day I had it drizzled over some cherry tomatoes for lunch...

and the day after that, I finished it off by serving it with a platter of vine ripe tomatoes, summer squash and olives...

Some recipes for salsa verde will tell you that it's ok to keep it for up to a week. But I find that it's really best the day it is made. After the first day its brilliant color starts to dull and a day or two after that the flavors begin to get a bit out of balance as the shallots and garlic begin to take over. In any case, it is not likely that it will last that long.

Salsa verde literally means "green sauce". It is a lively, olive oil-bound amalgamation of chopped herbs and a varying parade of other flavoring agents. My favorite version is made of all parsley, but you will find versions that include basil, mint, tarragon, chives, chervil and/or scallions. The "green" can be pretty much any herb. Most versions will contain lemon zest, capers and garlic. Frequent additions include anchovies, shallots, pepper flakes and lemon juice or red wine vinegar. Occasionally a recipe will include Dijon mustard. Depending on its intended use, the consistency of the sauce can be loose and oily or it can be tightly packed with just enough oil to hold all the ingredients together. When you make salsa verde, you should feel free to adjust all of the ingredients to suit your tastes.

I like the appearance of the sauce the best when the herbs have been chopped by hand. But some recipes direct you to use the food processor or a mortar and pestle. Both of these methods will produce a sauce that is more of a thickish purée (like pesto, for example). If you choose to use a food processor (or mortar and pestle), make sure that all of the ingredients are chopped before you begin to add the oil.  The oil will make it difficult, if not impossible, to chop the herbs properly—they will just slosh around in the oil.

Salsa verde is excellent served with fin fish and scallops. And if you like shrimp (not my favorite thing, I admit), it's good with that too. It is particularly fine drizzled over a serving of simply cooked shell beans (fresh or dried). I love it with roasted root vegetables—especially carrots and potatoes. In the summer it is very good served with zucchini, eggplant or tomatoes. Frankly I would be hard pressed to name a vegetable that it doesn't compliment.

But of all the things that salsa verde can be served with, my favorite is a grilled or pan-seared steak.  The herb-y, salty, slightly lemony sauce compliments the sizzling, juicy meat perfectly. And this is just how I served it last night:

Then, today for lunch I made the leftovers (steak and sauce) into an open-faced sandwich with tomatoes and melted Gruyère:

It's almost gone now....but I'm sure I'll find a good home for the sauce that remains.

Salsa Verde

6 T. chopped Italian flat leaf parsley

2 T. chopped Basil or Mint (or use another 2 T. of parsley—to make 1/2 c.)

3 anchovy filets (less or more to taste), minced
1 T. capers, rinsed and chopped
zest of 1 medium lemon—or to taste

pinch of red pepper flakes

1 small clove of garlic, minced or smashed to a purée with a pinch of salt

1 small shallot, minced and rinsed under cold running water
1/3 to 1/2 c. olive oil
salt & pepper to taste
1 T. lemon juice (or red wine vinegar)—less or more to taste

In a small bowl, combine all of the ingredients adding more oil if it seems too stiff. Taste and adjust the seasonings.  Don't be shy with the lemon zest or the salt.  Set aside to allow the flavors to blend. If making ahead, add the lemon juice just before using (the acid encourages the herbs to lose their bright color). Makes about 2/3 cup.

Printable Recipe

Cabbage with Sweet Corn & Bacon

 I tend to think of cabbage as a fall and winter food. Most people—if they take the time to think about cabbage at all—probably think the same. With the exception of coleslaw, cabbage most often shows up in hearty winter dishes—soups, stews, warm salads and vegetable braises. I am almost always caught a bit by surprise when beautiful young tender cabbages start showing up at the farmer's market in early summer. Its arrival comes just in time to make that batch of July 4th coleslaw. But summer cabbage doesn't have to be used in slaw. Quickly cooked, garden-fresh cabbage makes a light and delicious summer side dish.

For those with a lingering childhood aversion to cooked cabbage, "delicious" is probably not the exact word that comes to mind when you think of it. Unfortunately this aversion seems to be fairly universal (at least for Americans), so even if you happen to like cooked cabbage, you might have a hard time selling it to your family and friends.

I mentioned in one of my first posts that almost everyone in my Irish Foods for St. Patrick's Day class was pretty surprised at how much they liked the Colcannon potatoes. Folded into mashed potatoes, cooked cabbage was a hit. So perhaps one way to get people to try cooked cabbage is to combine it with another food that they really like. Sweet corn and bacon seem like good candidates. A few years ago I ran across a recipe for Sweet Corn with Green Cabbage & Bacon in Suzanne Goin's Sunday Suppers at Lucques. Every time I make this dish I am amazed at how good it is.

Goin's recipe assumes that you will have access to very fresh sweet corn and cabbage. When fresh, both cabbage and corn will cook fairly quickly. The entire dish can be made in a few minutes—all in one pan. Simply render the bacon, sweat the onions in the bacon fat, add the corn to the cooked onions and then add the cabbage a minute or two after the corn. The cabbage will wilt and become tender as the corn is finishing cooking.

It could hardly be easier. As the season wears on, or if I am using grocery store cabbage, I alter the method a bit and cook the cabbage separately. When it is tender, I add it to the finished corn. This way I have complete control over the doneness of both vegetables.

If you don't know how to cook cabbage, I think the best way is found in Darina Allen's book Forgotten Skills of Cooking. She calls it simply "Buttered Cabbage". To serve 6 people you will need a pound of cabbage. Cut the cabbage into quarters and cut out the core. Cut the quarters cross-wise into very thin slices. Put 2 to 3 tablespoons of water—you don't need much, just enough to get the cabbage going—in a wide saucepan with a couple of tablespoons of butter. Bring to a boil over high heat and add the cabbage. Toss and stir constantly until the cabbage wilts and most of the water is evaporated. Reduce the heat, cover and continue to cook until tender—just a few minutes more. Cooked cabbage should still have a bit of texture—it shouldn't be mushy. Season with salt and pepper and, if you like, more butter.

I recently served this sauté of corn and cabbage accompanied by pan-seared pork chops.

In her book, Goin serves it with Salmon. It would probably be pretty good with whatever meat or fish you chose to serve it. And if you really want to make people happy, you could serve it alongside a big mound of mashed potatoes.

Sauté of Corn & Green Cabbage with Bacon

4 to 5 oz. bacon (thick or thinly sliced), cut cross-wise into 1/2-inch pieces
2 T. butter
1 c. thinly sliced spring or sweet summer onions, plus some of the green if using spring onions (reserve the green portion separately)
2 t. roughly chopped fresh thyme
1 1/2 c. freshly cut corn (from about 2 ears) plus scrapings
1/2 small green cabbage (about 1 lb.), quartered, cored and thinly sliced cross-wise
2 to 3 T. minced Italian flat-leaf parsley

Render bacon until crisp over medium to medium-low heat. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to a plate. Add a tablespoon of butter to the pan and increase the heat to medium. When the butter foams, add the onions, thyme and a good pinch of salt and some freshly ground pepper. Sweat until the onions are tender and translucent—3 to 5 minutes. Add the corn, along with the green portion of the onions (if using spring onions), and cook until the corn is sizzling, stirring occasionally—about 3 minutes. Add the remaining tablespoon of butter, increase the heat slightly and add the cabbage. Season with salt & pepper. Add a couple of tablespoons of water to the pan and cook the cabbage, tossing and stirring until the cabbage begins to wilt. Continue to cook until the cabbage is just tender. If necessary, cover the pan and lower the heat for a minute or two. The cabbage should only take a few minutes to cook. Add the parsley and taste and correct the seasoning. Add the bacon and fold in, or serve with the bacon sprinkled over the top.  Serves 4 to 6.

(Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin)

Printable Version

Shaved Zucchini Salad with Almonds, Parsley & Parmesan



We are just entering into the season of summer squash. This year the advent of the local crop coincided almost exactly with summer's official calendar start date. Last Saturday I brought home my first batch of tiny baby squash from the market (and immediately made one of my favorite pastas with it). We will now have abundant local squash for the duration of the summer and into the fall. Its season is long and, if the squash are harvested when they are small and tender, enjoyable.

Summer squash is wonderful cooked any number of ways. Grilled/broiled, roasted, sautéed, steamed, stuffed, puréed.... But of course, summer squash doesn't have to be cooked to be enjoyed. Next week I will be teaching a class that includes a recipe for a simple and refreshing summer salad featuring raw zucchini.

It is particularly important to seek out smallish (less than 4 oz. each) zucchini for this salad. To prepare the salad, the zucchini are shaved as thinly as possible into long ribbons. If large squash—which have more developed seed cavities and a more coarsely grained flesh—are used, it is difficult to produce beautifully thin, flexible ribbons. When sliced thinly, a large squash tends to want to shred. If the thickness of the ribbons is increased to produce intact lengths of squash, the ribbons won't be as flexible or as tender as they should be.

I didn't create this salad.  I am posting it almost unchanged from one of my favorite cookbooks—The Vineyard Kitchen by Maria Helm Sinskey. It is almost identical to a popular salad published last August in Bon Appetit Magazine. Besides the zucchini, Sinskey's salad includes toasted almonds, Italian Parsley and shaved Parmesan. The Bon Appetit version replaces the parsley and almonds with basil and pine nuts.

I'm sure the salad from Bon Appetit is very good, but if an internet search is any indicator, it is currently the only shaved zucchini salad that people are making. Which is too bad, because lots of different combinations of herbs, nuts and cheeses would complement the zucchini quite nicely. Walnuts or Pecans would be good choices for the nuts. Aromatic marjoram or mint would be interesting choices for the herbs.  Instead of the herbs a handful of baby arugula would be excellent. Pecorino, Aged Jack, Manchego or some other salty, aged grating cheese would be fine choices for the cheese.  Part of what makes this salad special is its simplicity, so I hesitate to recommend too many additions....but if added judiciously and sparingly, other additions might include some finely minced garlic, a bit of smashed anchovy, a few minced capers or black olives, or pinch of hot pepper flakes.

The other difference between the Sinskey salad and the Bon Appetit version is that the latter prepares a lemon vinaigrette to pour over the salad and Sinskey seasons the salad with lemon juice first and then finishes the salad with the olive oil. This is really the best way to go because without sufficient lemon, the salad is flat and bland tasting. Adding the lemon and the olive oil separately allows you to control the acidity of the salad without drowning it in vinaigrette.

This refreshing little salad makes a beautiful and light first course. It would also be very good served alongside a grilled steak and some roasted potatoes or piled on top of some grilled or sautéed fish. No matter how you choose to serve it, it's a great way to enjoy the abundance of the local summer squash crop.

Shaved Zucchini Salad with Almonds, Lemon & Parmesan

2 lbs. small zucchini (preferably weighing 3 to 4 oz. each), washed and dried, ends trimmed away
3 oz. Parmesan, shaved with a vegetable peeler
2 oz. (a generous half cup) sliced almonds, lightly toasted
2 to 4 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 to 4 T. extra virgin olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1/2 c. (not packed) picked Italian Parsley, very coarsely chopped (reserve several whole leaves for garnish)

Using a mandoline slicer, slice the zucchini very thinly (less than 1/16th inch, if possible) lengthwise. Place in a large bowl with 2/3 of the shaved Parmesan, the almonds and the parsley. Season with salt (generously) & freshly ground pepper.

Drizzle 2 T. of lemon juice over. Toss and add more lemon and salt as necessary. Add 2 T. of olive oil and toss again. Taste and correct the seasoning. The salad should be a bit on the tangy side.

Divide the salad among serving plates and drizzle each serving with a bit more olive oil and scatter the reserved parsley leaves over all. Serves 6 to 8.

(Recipe adapted from The Vineyard Kitchen by Maria Helm Sinskey)