By The garden is in. Every April I feel the same relief when this is done — the weeks of planning and the seed starting on the south-facing windowsill and the waiting for the last frost date and then finally, finally, the actual planting. Hands in soil. Seeds in rows. The reasonable belief that something will come of this.
This year's garden is the most ambitious version of the new yard's beds: two entire beds dedicated to tomatoes (six varieties, because I never learn), one bed of winter squash and summer squash, one bed of pole beans and snap peas already climbing, the herb bed which is now established enough to be essentially self-maintaining except for the annual basil planting, and two beds of cut flowers because I've decided I've earned cut flowers and I'm growing them. Gary added a small cold frame this year that he built during the tail end of the sabbatical from a plan he found online, and it's been protecting the early brassica starts for three weeks now with pleasing success.
Leo is four months old and reaching the stage where everything within reach is interesting and everything outside reach is the source of tremendous ambition. Ethan sent a photo of him on his stomach on a blanket, head up, staring at a spoon that is just beyond his range with an expression of pure willful determination. He will get the spoon. It is only a matter of time. This is a very Leo expression and I love it.
The fifth book manuscript was submitted to my editor this week. I pressed send on the final file on a Tuesday morning while drinking the first coffee of the day and then sat very still for a few minutes and then went and planted the tomatoes. That seemed like the right order: send the book, plant the tomatoes, let the ground remind you that things take time and most of them do come up eventually if you put them in correctly and water them and have a little faith.
Manuscript in. Garden in. Everything beginning.
With one full bed of summer squash going in this year, I know exactly what July looks like: more zucchini than any household can reasonably manage, appearing overnight, insisting on being eaten. I’ve been through enough growing seasons to know that the best thing I can do right now—while the plants are still small and the ambition is still fresh—is get my recipe rotation ready. Submitting the manuscript felt like clearing the table; planting the garden felt like setting it again. These are the zucchini recipes I’ll be reaching for when the squash bed starts delivering on its promise.
30+ of the Best Zucchini Recipes
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 medium zucchini (about 1 lb total), sliced into 1/4-inch rounds or halved lengthwise
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 tablespoons fresh basil or parsley, roughly chopped
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest
Instructions
- Prep the zucchini. Wash and dry the zucchini, then slice into 1/4-inch rounds or cut lengthwise into planks, depending on how you plan to cook them. Pat slices dry with a paper towel to reduce steaming in the pan.
- Heat the pan. Warm olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. A cast iron or stainless pan will give you the best browning.
- Cook the zucchini. Add zucchini in a single layer — work in batches if needed. Cook without stirring for 3–4 minutes until the undersides are golden, then flip and cook another 2–3 minutes.
- Add garlic and seasoning. Push zucchini to the edges of the pan, add garlic to the center, and cook 30 seconds until fragrant. Toss everything together. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving plate. Top with grated Parmesan, fresh basil or parsley, and lemon zest. Serve immediately as a side dish, or use as a base for pasta, grain bowls, or frittata.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 110 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 280mg