Pappardelle with Squash Blossoms

When squash blossoms first come out in late spring, I go crazy with the hot oil. I fry them plain; I stuff and fry them; I even shred them, coat them in light batter, and fry them like chips. A couple weeks later, I come to my senses. There's only so much fried food one person should eat, and I probably exceed my quota with squash blossoms alone. But then I stop buying blossoms altogether, unsure of what else I can do with them.

mise en place

Last Sunday, the baskets of blossoms at Dupont were overflowing and not too expensive, so I picked up a couple, resolving to find a non-fry recipe in short order. Here's a sentence I could write about so many things: Molly Wizenberg came to the rescue.

Do you read Orangette? You really ought to. Molly is a beautiful writer, and she always seems to cook things I want to make and eat immediately. In this case, it was her reader who supplied the recipe, for a fresh pasta that tastes at once like noodle soup and like a late summer afternoon in Italy. The pasta starts like a winter braise: celery, onion, carrot, broth.

ready for stove

From there, though, it turns straight to summer, with a generous handful of fresh squash blossoms. The blossoms swim in the broth, mingle with the mirepoix, and eventually melt into the sauce. While their texture isn't prominent in the final dish, their delicacy and flavor lend a richness that, along with tempered egg yolk, make the pasta as creamy as a good carbonara. Only for all its creaminess, the dish is still light and clean.

squash blossons

reducing the sauce

With tomatoes at their peak, it's hard to believe this pasta is the best one I've had all month. No doubt, there's plenty of spaghetti pomodoro in my near future -- not to mention the raw tomato sauce of which I've grown so fond. But there's also this. In it's own right, it nears perfection. Thanks to Molly and her reader, Tony, for sharing this very worthy use for squash blossoms, no frying included.

pappardelle with squash blossoms

Pappardelle with Squash BlossomsAdapted, just barely, from Molly Wizenberg

1 tablespoon butter 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 medium (or half a large) red onion, diced 1 stalk celery, diced 1 carrot, diced 1/2 cup parsley leaves, chopped 12 squash blossoms, quartered lengthwise (no need to remove stem) pinch saffron 2 cups very good chicken or vegetable broth 1 egg yolk 1/2 lb. pappardelle 1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese

Fill a large pot with water and a couple pinches of salt. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.

Add butter and oil to a large saute pan and set over medium heat. Add onion, celery, carrot, and parsley; cook, stirring occasionally until translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the squash blossoms, a pinch of salt, and the saffron. Stir gently to combine. Add 3/4 cup of the broth, stir gently, and raise the heat to medium. As the broth starts to reduce, continue adding more broth gradually until it has reduced significantly and only a small film of broth coats the vegetables. This should take about 8 minutes. Remove from the heat.

In a smallish bowl, whisk the egg yolk.

Add the pasta to the pot of boiling water. While it cooks, place the sauce back on medium heat. Use a small cup to scoop up about 3 Tbs of pasta water and, whisking constantly with a fork, gradually add the hot water to the egg yolk to temper it. Don't skimp on the water, or your egg will curdle when added to the sauce. Pour the yolk mixture into the saute pan, and stir continuously to combine. The yolk will thicken the sauce.

By now, the pasta should be perfectly al dente. (Mine took 2 1/2 minutes.) Scoop the pasta from its cooking water into the sauce, and use tongs to incorporate it into the sauce. Cook the two together for about 30 seconds, then serve in shallow bowls or on plates, topped with grated Pecorino Romano.

Molasses Roasted Salmon

Now that it's full-on summer, we've been hosting Friday night dinner parties on our deck pretty often. We usually start before the sun sets, but it grows dark pretty quickly; fortunately, I picked up a couple vintage votive holders at the Lucketts Fair that provide just the right amount of light. (If you live in the DC/VA area and haven't been to Lucketts, go. It's an antiques fair with hundreds of vendors, set on fair grounds out in VA. Beautiful furniture and plenty of carnival food. A great way to spend the day.)

Dinner parties are so much easier in summer, when it doesn't get dark until late and I've got plenty of time to prep between work and dinner. There's a formula for these parties, at least this year. Before work on Friday morning, I whip up a cold soup. Cold pea soup is my new favorite: 1 package thawed frozen peas, 1 serrano pepper, 2 tomatillos, 1/2 cup cilantro, salt: all in a blender, and really: that's it. It takes no more than 10 minutes. I pour the soup into jars, stick them in the fridge, and head off. After work, I pick up fish from Cannon's and head home. I prep the fish, toss together a salad, and quite often make my easiest cake ever as well. Schedule permitting, I may also saute some mushrooms or roast some tomatoes. These days, the produce is so fresh and flavorful, it's best to keep things simple.

For an embarrassingly large number of these dinner parties, the main course has been molasses roasted salmon. What can I say? It's fast, it's easy, and it's delicious. And it's not as though our guests know that I'm a total one-trick pony. (Until now.)

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Not for nothing, the finished dish is also really beautiful. The salmon is a mix of bright orange and deep dark brown, and glossy from the heat. Bringing the salmon to the table whole makes for a dramatic presentation.

You can make this salmon in the oven year-round, and I do. But when the weather's nice, I'll fire up the grill and make it there. Molasses and wood smoke are quite the pair.

Molasses Roasted Salmon Serves 4-6

When buying salmon, aim for one long piece instead of a few smaller pieces. Look for fish with firm, bright flesh and well-marbled fat. Depending on where you buy your fish, it may have color added; don't be deceived by neon-orange flesh; just look for fish with color that looks authentic but not dull, and you'll be fine.

2 lbs. good quality salmon, in one long piece if possible 2 teaspoons smoked paprika 1 teaspoon cardamom 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon cayenne or ground chipotle pepper 2 teaspoons kosher salt 1/8 cup molasses 1 tablespoon olive oil

Preheat oven to 450 degrees and set a rack in the bottom third of the oven

Pat the salmon dry and set skin-side down on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Sprinkle evenly with the salt.

In a small bowl, mix spices together. Add molasses and stir with a fork until combined.

Use a pastry or silicone brush to brush molasses mixture evenly over the salmon. Make sure you get the ends, too.

Drizzle olive oil over the fish, and put baking sheet into the oven and cook for 15-20 minutes, depending on the salmon's thickness, until the thickest part is just cooked and no longer translucent within. Cool for 5-10 minutes, and either serve, or refrigerate for at least 2 hours and serve chilled.

Sometimes, I whip up a quick yogurt sauce to go with the salmon. Recipe below.

1 cup greek yogurt juice 1 lemon 1/2 teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons chopped fresh dill a few grinds of pepper

Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and mix thoroughly. Serve chilled.

Summer Squash Quesadillas

Summer squash season is in full swing. As anyone with enough sunlight to grow the stuff will tell you, it grows like a weed. One plant is more than enough to feed two people for the whole summer. Folks with more zucs than they can eat often tell these not-quite-sad stories about struggling to use up their summer squash quickly enough. It's hard to feel bad for them when one little basket of zucchini costs $4 at the market, but I count my blessings - among them, a beautiful herb garden that's got enough chives for omelets all summer long, and three different kinds of mint, all growing at record pace.

Last week at the market, I bought a basket of baby summer squash with the blossoms still attached. Generally, I'd snip off the blossoms, coat them in batter, and fry'em up, but I'd gone to boot camp - people, this boot camp is serious - and I was feeling virtuous. So instead, I chopped them, tossed them with some mexican cheese and slices of the zucchini, and stuffed them into quesadillas.

squash quesadillas9

The recipe is simple, and open to endless riffs and interpretations. We're talking two flour tortillas, whatever fillings you want, and heat. That's it. I've added mushrooms, fresh corn, roasted poblano peppers, cherry tomatoes, you name it.

squash quesadillas5

As I write this, I'm in Austin for work. I'm quite sure the city famous for its migas would frown upon my very yuppified version of a quesadilla, but if I'm going to eat what essentially amounts to two pieces of bread and a bunch of cheese for dinner, I'd like to supplement it with some green. So there you have it.

squash quesadillas1

I was serious about the countless riffs. I've eliminated the mexican cheese entirely, in favor of fresh chevre. It's a totally different thing, but good in its own right. Another option - especially if you're eating this for breakfast, which I would heartily encourage - is to fry an egg into your quesadilla. Here's how it works: scramble an egg. when the pan is hot, pour the egg in, let it spread, and promptly place a flour tortilla over the egg, covering its surface entirely. Pile your toppings onto the tortilla, and depending on how hungry you are, either leave it open-face or put another tortilla overtop. Eggy deliciousness. Or, if you want the eggs inside the quesadilla, scramble them separately and pile them on before adding the second tortilla.

I told you, lots of riffs. I'll stop now - but you shouldn't. These are meant to be a vehicle for whatever is in your fridge. Go crazy.

Summer Squash Quesadillasserves 2, easily doubled

4 flour tortillas 2 small or 1 large summer squash, sliced into coins 1 tablespoon butter or oil a handful of squash blossoms, roughly chopped (if you don't have these, simply add some extra squash) 2 scallions, sliced 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika 1/2 cup shredded Mexican or pepperjack cheese (or substitute fresh chevre)

salsa or salsa verde, for serving

Set an 8-inch pan over medium heat and add butter or oil. When butter has melted or oil starts to shimmer, add summer squash in a single layer. Add smoked paprika and cook squash coins until lightly browned on one side. Flip or turn coins, add scallions, and cook about 2 more minutes, until the other side is brown. Transfer squash to a plate and set aside.

Put one tortilla down in the pan (no need to add more fat - they shouldn't stick). Add your toppings - first the cheese, then the still-warm squash - and top with a second tortilla. Cook about 3 minutes, until the bottom tortillas is well-browned. Press down on the top tortilla to make sure everything is sticking together, then flip the whole thing so the top tortilla is now on the bottom. Cook 3 more minutes, then transfer to a plate, cut into quarters, and repeat to make the second quesadilla.

Serve with salsa or salsa verde.