Stuffed Zucchini Flowers -- The Spring Recipe I Make When the Conversation Is the Point

The freezer is full. That is the first sentence of most of my weeks, and it remains the first sentence today. The week was a spring week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

Brandon golfed Saturday morning, attended his executive secretary meeting Sunday morning, and did the dishes Wednesday night, which is the rhythm of our life now. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.

The recipe of the week was penne with sausage, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. Sunday prep is twenty-eight bags. I time myself. The accountant never leaves. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, finishing his mission in the Philippines. We have a countdown calendar on the fridge — Olivia's idea, executed in her handwriting, which is mine. Olivia is 20, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 17, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 15, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, in high school, deeply involved in the drama program — the Larson kid most likely to make a career out of being looked at. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I will close the laptop in a moment. I will go to bed. I will get up tomorrow. The freezer will be there. The photograph will be there. The work will be there. So will I.

The penne with sausage is already portioned and in the freezer, and that work is done, and I am satisfied with it — but this week I also want to give you the recipe that does not go in a freezer bag, the one that rewards the kind of unhurried afternoon I had on Sunday when Brandon was chopping onions and the light was coming through the kitchen window at that particular spring angle. Stuffed zucchini flowers are not a system. They are not twenty-eight bags. They are the thing you make when the season hands you something brief and lovely and you decide, for once, to just be in it.

Stuffed Zucchini Flowers

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 12 fresh zucchini flowers, stamens removed, gently wiped clean
• 1 cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
• 1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• 2 tablespoons fresh basil, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for finishing
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup cold sparkling water
• Neutral oil for frying (about 2 cups)
• Flaky sea salt, for serving

Instructions

1. Prepare the flowers. Gently open each zucchini flower and check inside for insects. Remove the stamen from the center of each flower with your fingers or small scissors, being careful not to tear the petals. Set aside.
2. Make the filling. In a medium bowl, stir together the ricotta, Parmesan, egg, basil, lemon zest, salt, and pepper until well combined. Transfer to a piping bag or a zip-top bag with one corner snipped off.
3. Fill the flowers. Gently pipe or spoon about 1 tablespoon of the ricotta filling into each flower. Do not overfill. Twist the petal tips gently to close. Place filled flowers on a plate and refrigerate for 10 minutes to firm slightly.
4. Make the batter. In a shallow bowl, whisk together the flour and cold sparkling water until just combined — a few lumps are fine. Do not overmix. The batter should be thin, like crepe batter.
5. Heat the oil. Pour about 1 inch of neutral oil into a heavy skillet or Dutch oven. Heat over medium-high until the oil reaches 375°F. Line a plate with paper towels.
6. Fry the flowers. Working in batches of 3 or 4, dip each stuffed flower into the batter, letting excess drip off, then lower gently into the hot oil. Fry for 2–3 minutes, turning once, until golden and crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to the lined plate.
7. Finish and serve. Season immediately with flaky sea salt. Serve hot, as soon as all batches are fried. These do not hold — they are meant to be eaten the moment they come out of the oil.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 380mg