Sometimes I love this twilight hour of a late November afternoon. Darkness approaches; the gray overcast sky nestles among the bones of tree branches. Dinner beckons in the mind’s recesses: what shall we have?
Tonight it’s zucchini fritters laced with shredded carrot from Chuck’s garden up in Chassell. A vegan version insists upon flax seed whizzed in the coffee grinder into fine powder. One adds it to cornmeal, flour, green onions, red onions, a splash of rice milk. Oh yes, sea salt and baking powder. Fry until crispy, four minutes per side.
We froze the zucchini last August. We planted the inconspicuous seeds in a different section of the garden and they grew voraciously. Barry brought huge zucchini bats to the vegetable stand where he pocketed fifty cents per bat. The stand owner sold them for $1.00. Certain customers begged for boat-sized zucchini. They wanted to stuff them with sausage and onions and gorge on the late-summer boats.
We do not like the boats. We like grilling the cut-up morsels marinated with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. We add fat mushrooms and tiny white onions to the mix, maybe with red pepper.
But here I am back in August and September when the skies shimmered blue overhead and November’s gray pall seemed a far-away memory. We shredded at least eight or ten packets of zucchini for late autumn or winter evenings like these.
You may wonder if we’ll get to eat if I continue yammering on about zucchini. That’s a good question. But I am enjoying blogging so much (since yesterday) that who cares if we eat the fritters at 6:30? Barry’s out in the garage, anyway, working on my Christmas present.
What? you ask. Do you know what your Christmas present is? How…interesting.
Yes. I know. And since he’s writing a post about it in our local newspaper this week, it’s definitely not a secret.
I asked for a romantic generator.
Yes, dear reader, you did not err in reading that last sentence. I want a generator to utilize during power outages. A monster creature which miraculously produces electricity when a tree knocks down an innocent power line.
Fortunately for said husband, we already have a generator!
It just needs to be nudged back to ship-shape with spark plugs, carburetor care, mechanical fuss. Then we need to hire an electrician to wire it into the house. Then, safe and sound, he will pull the diesel engine cord and wa-la!–our frozen zucchini shall not melt. Our freezer garden produce shall remain rock solid.
And we shall eat the frozen wonders another gray night this winter. He’ll say, “Hey, these fritters aren’t too bad” and I’ll nod and we’ll remember the giant zucchini gleaming in the late August sunset.
You know what people say about zucchini here in our neck of the woods? They warn people to lock their cars during zucchini season. You never know when a “friend” will decide to share her bounty with you.
I’m warning you now. Don’t come visiting during harvest season or you’ll return home with a carload!