RECIPE #7: Zucchini Parmigiana
Hey gang, what's up? I've been catching up on my movie-watching, reading (about halfway through Katherine Dunn's "Geek Love"), working on my tan, getting ready for Lollapalooza and getting used to the intricate biorhythms of couplehood. I wrote about the new albums by Candlemass and The Automatic Automatic, both of which have bustled their way into my players a lot these days. I saw a lovely little park with its own mini-zoo the other day, rocked out at the Wicker Park Fest and even managed to squeeze in recipe numero siete.
As I mentioned last month, for July I intended to find something my girlfriend and I could cook and eat together. A few half-hearted Google searches didn't turn up anything too inspiring. Then, one night, the lady surprised me with a lovely little dish. We both worked late and were dead tired, but she put together a delicious zucchini parmigana, which is not spelled like I thought it was (nor like the package of pre-grated cheese suggests). I wanted to know how to make it, and figured that it would be both appropriate and extremely pleasant for this month's recipe to originate with her. Actually, it originates with her mom, as did the actual zucchini we used to make it. Without further ado, let me introduce my Sassy Frassy for a little background:
Okay... well, hello everyone. Now that I feel totally put on the spot, I will not waste too much time with introductions other than to say that yes... it is I who am responsible for taming the wild beast known as SoulReaper as of late by re-acquainting him with the art of domestic bliss. Recently, we embarked on a popular "new couple" pastime of cooking together after he asked me to teach him how to make my mother's recipe for zucchini parmagiana. As he mentioned, I whipped up this dish as a late night dinner for us shortly after my parents passed along some of their garden abundance. It's a variation on other parmagiana favorites, such as eggplant, chicken or meatballs. It's also a huge misnomer in Italian cuisine since the cheese that it is named after actually is a very minimal ingredient.
Before we begin, I must mention that his intimidating name aside, SoulReaper is actually quite a charming romantic. To set the mood for our culinary enterprise, the ever festive SoulReaper even put on some mood music. Although, since his digital music did not carry an option of an Italian music station, he settled for Salsa-Meringue with the justification that "it's close enough." Um... not really, but I let him get away with it.
Thanks, sweetie. We started with a decently sized zucchini. After a little rinse, I lopped off the ends and began to make slices - as Sassy Frass called them, "medallions." These were somewhere between 1/4 and 1/8 inch thick and looked quite impressive, but would probably attract flies if worn for too long as actual medallions. When the zuke was all sliced up, the first phase of cooking commenced. We did this part as a team: she battered the zucchini slices, I fried them in olive oil at medium-high heat. The batter was actually the most interesting part of the recipe to me. While consisting only of flour and egg, the flour goes on first. I'd have thought the egg would wash off the powder, but, no. We cooked each medallion until it was slightly brown, stacking them on a plate between paper towels to wick away some of the oil.
After all of the zucchini was battered and fried, we did the actual parmigiana part of the dish, which translates to something along the lines of "smothering in cheese and sauce." Since SoulReaper is still in the process of collecting kitchen ware, there were two sizes of glass casserole dishes to choose from. One was a little too big, one was a little too little. We chose to use the bigger one. First, we spread a few spoonfuls of sauce on the bottom of the casserole dish, then placed a layer of zucchini medallions on top. From there, we placed some more sauce and a layer of shredded mozzerella cheese. We then sprinkled a small handful of grated parmesan cheese before layering more medallions, sauce and cheese. The top layer should be cheese and the number of layers is determined by the size of the casserole dish. Since we opted for the bigger dish, we had two. After the second layer, we sprinkled a pinch of Italian seasoning on top. I contributed this to SoulReaper's kitchen, a blend I picked up from Caputo's grocery store a while back that consists of basil, oregano, thyme and rosemary.
From here, you would typically place the dish in a pre-heated oven at 350 degrees and bake for one hour. However, since I spaced out, we actually baked the dish at 375 degrees for about 50 minutes, rendering it "well done." Since it is a nice vegetarian meal, it was salvagable and actually tasted good. It must be noted that one of the hazards of the "new couple" cooking date is getting easily distracted and not noticing that the meal you are making is burning until you realize you are gasping from air not from the throes of passion, but from the black smoke pouring out of the oven.
Yes, we certainly got distracted. Although the top of the dish ended up mighty crispy, we had no problem with that, recognizing that burnt cheese is one of this planet's most underrated pleasures. (Next time I make it, though, I'm setting the oven at 350, because I can always brown the uppermost cheese via the broiler. I will also use more zucchini so I can throughly fill the baking dish.) To go with the zucchini parmigiana, I also baked up a pair of chicken boobs, which I slathered in olive oil and Italian seasoning, and a few slices of Safeway brand garlic cheese toast. The fresh dish and the leftovers were equally delectable. This is an easy recipe even if you're doing it alone, but as with most things, it's much nicer to work as a team.
Maybe I'm part Italian, maybe I'm not, but Sassy Frassy is definitely half, and she certainly made my kitchen smell authentic. My Mediterranean miss concludes:
Even though it wasn't perfect, our cooking experience was a success and a fun way to spend some time together. I look forward to our next collaborative effort!
As I mentioned last month, for July I intended to find something my girlfriend and I could cook and eat together. A few half-hearted Google searches didn't turn up anything too inspiring. Then, one night, the lady surprised me with a lovely little dish. We both worked late and were dead tired, but she put together a delicious zucchini parmigana, which is not spelled like I thought it was (nor like the package of pre-grated cheese suggests). I wanted to know how to make it, and figured that it would be both appropriate and extremely pleasant for this month's recipe to originate with her. Actually, it originates with her mom, as did the actual zucchini we used to make it. Without further ado, let me introduce my Sassy Frassy for a little background:
Okay... well, hello everyone. Now that I feel totally put on the spot, I will not waste too much time with introductions other than to say that yes... it is I who am responsible for taming the wild beast known as SoulReaper as of late by re-acquainting him with the art of domestic bliss. Recently, we embarked on a popular "new couple" pastime of cooking together after he asked me to teach him how to make my mother's recipe for zucchini parmagiana. As he mentioned, I whipped up this dish as a late night dinner for us shortly after my parents passed along some of their garden abundance. It's a variation on other parmagiana favorites, such as eggplant, chicken or meatballs. It's also a huge misnomer in Italian cuisine since the cheese that it is named after actually is a very minimal ingredient.
Before we begin, I must mention that his intimidating name aside, SoulReaper is actually quite a charming romantic. To set the mood for our culinary enterprise, the ever festive SoulReaper even put on some mood music. Although, since his digital music did not carry an option of an Italian music station, he settled for Salsa-Meringue with the justification that "it's close enough." Um... not really, but I let him get away with it.
Thanks, sweetie. We started with a decently sized zucchini. After a little rinse, I lopped off the ends and began to make slices - as Sassy Frass called them, "medallions." These were somewhere between 1/4 and 1/8 inch thick and looked quite impressive, but would probably attract flies if worn for too long as actual medallions. When the zuke was all sliced up, the first phase of cooking commenced. We did this part as a team: she battered the zucchini slices, I fried them in olive oil at medium-high heat. The batter was actually the most interesting part of the recipe to me. While consisting only of flour and egg, the flour goes on first. I'd have thought the egg would wash off the powder, but, no. We cooked each medallion until it was slightly brown, stacking them on a plate between paper towels to wick away some of the oil.
After all of the zucchini was battered and fried, we did the actual parmigiana part of the dish, which translates to something along the lines of "smothering in cheese and sauce." Since SoulReaper is still in the process of collecting kitchen ware, there were two sizes of glass casserole dishes to choose from. One was a little too big, one was a little too little. We chose to use the bigger one. First, we spread a few spoonfuls of sauce on the bottom of the casserole dish, then placed a layer of zucchini medallions on top. From there, we placed some more sauce and a layer of shredded mozzerella cheese. We then sprinkled a small handful of grated parmesan cheese before layering more medallions, sauce and cheese. The top layer should be cheese and the number of layers is determined by the size of the casserole dish. Since we opted for the bigger dish, we had two. After the second layer, we sprinkled a pinch of Italian seasoning on top. I contributed this to SoulReaper's kitchen, a blend I picked up from Caputo's grocery store a while back that consists of basil, oregano, thyme and rosemary.
From here, you would typically place the dish in a pre-heated oven at 350 degrees and bake for one hour. However, since I spaced out, we actually baked the dish at 375 degrees for about 50 minutes, rendering it "well done." Since it is a nice vegetarian meal, it was salvagable and actually tasted good. It must be noted that one of the hazards of the "new couple" cooking date is getting easily distracted and not noticing that the meal you are making is burning until you realize you are gasping from air not from the throes of passion, but from the black smoke pouring out of the oven.
Yes, we certainly got distracted. Although the top of the dish ended up mighty crispy, we had no problem with that, recognizing that burnt cheese is one of this planet's most underrated pleasures. (Next time I make it, though, I'm setting the oven at 350, because I can always brown the uppermost cheese via the broiler. I will also use more zucchini so I can throughly fill the baking dish.) To go with the zucchini parmigiana, I also baked up a pair of chicken boobs, which I slathered in olive oil and Italian seasoning, and a few slices of Safeway brand garlic cheese toast. The fresh dish and the leftovers were equally delectable. This is an easy recipe even if you're doing it alone, but as with most things, it's much nicer to work as a team.
Maybe I'm part Italian, maybe I'm not, but Sassy Frassy is definitely half, and she certainly made my kitchen smell authentic. My Mediterranean miss concludes:
Even though it wasn't perfect, our cooking experience was a success and a fun way to spend some time together. I look forward to our next collaborative effort!
2 Comments:
Candlemass, King of the Grey Islands (Nuclear Blast)
After one reunion album with original singer Messiah Marcolin, Swedish doom metal legends Candlemass once again appear with someone else on the mic. This time it's Robert Lowe of Texas' Solitude Aeturnus, whose dramatic pipes fit well with the band's epic style. Fans of Dio-era Black Sabbath can't go wrong with towering tunes like the creeping "Devil Seed" the expansive "Destroyer" or the rumbling chugger "Clearsight." Guitarist Leif Edling's diabolical riff on closer "Embracing the Styx" recalls Slayer's "South of Heaven." Lowe's distinctive voice might occasionally make serious doom freaks forget they're listening to Candlemass on Islands, but because of the strength and atmosphere of these songs, they won't mind.
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The Automatic Automatic, Not Accepted Anywhere (B-Unique/Columbia)
More mega-hyped poppy post-punk from the United Kingdom? Before you roll your eyes and pass, give Welsh quartet The Automatic Automatic credit for knowing their strengths.
Although most of the songs follow a similar bouncy template, there are no real clunkers on their debut album. The tracks that go over best ("Raoul," "Keep Your Eyes Peeled," "Team Drama") have the most attitude, relying on the constant pulse of Robin Hawkins' burbling bass and Iwan Griffiths' rigid disco drums. James Frost's shoegazer guitars sparkle at the heart of the boisterously brooding "Seriously… I Hate You Guys" and on the slightly slower "Lost at Home."
Alex Pennie's laser show keyboards enhance the songs' dancey feel. Although his yelpy backing vocals (think Tokyo Police Club) may be a tough pill for some, they help distinguish the band and add a snotty nervousness to otherwise poppy tunes like "That's What She Said" and "You Shout You Shout You Shout You Shout."
Not Accepted Anywhere was originally a 2006 release in the UK, where the band is simply called The Automatic (the doubled name is used for North America to avoid complications with another act). Also, the fellas re-recorded "Raoul" and "Recover" for release as singles, and those versions are offered here. It was a smart move, being two of the punchiest tracks on a disc that's smart enough to not change pace too often once the party gets rolling.
I think I'm most impressed that you guys are turning on the oven (the one in the kitchen -- not the "love oven") during the summer.
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