"For the first time I know what it is to eat. I have gained four pounds. I get frantically hungry, and the food I eat gives me a lingering pleasure. I never ate before in this deep carnal way ... I want to bite into life and to be torn by it."

— Anaïs Nin (1903-1977), from Henry & June

Craving more luscious food quotes? Browse more here.

Labels: food quotes, Friday, hedonism, joy, writers

"the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness."

— Pablo Neruda (1904-1973) "Ode to Tomatoes"

Labels: food quotes, Friday, poetry, tomatoes, veggies, writers

"Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup."

— Wendell Berry

Labels: berries, food quotes, Friday, fruit

Yes, friends... it's once again Sneak Some Zucchini onto Your Neighbors' Porch Day (or Night — your preference), one of those obscure and frivolous holidays we rootless Americans create out of festive necessity.

That said, I think the concept is solid. The zucchini (or courgette, for you Europeans) tends to hit a point of outrageous surplus right about now. Once you've already sautéed, puréed, broiled, grilled, fried and stuffed them, there's a risk of becoming bored with zucchini. Since it may be difficult to offload a stack of squash on a bewildered random citizen, "gifting" the neighbors seems like great fun.

A suggestion for would-be squash sneakers? Slip a quality recipe into that bag or basket.

In addition to the savory stuff, like ratatouilles, stews, tagines and summer succotashes, zucchinis tend to play well in sweets. Zucchini bread is a popular choice, but why not try Zucchini Blondies?

I use a variation on the recipe in Victoria Wise's Gardeners' Community Cookbook, and it's proved to be popular at my office bake sale.

Zucchini Blondies
5 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 medium zucchini, peeled and grated
1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts
1/2 cup white chocolate chips

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease the bottom of a 9" square baking pan.
2. Mix the butter, brown sugar, egg and vanilla in a large mixing bowl, and beat together until blended.
3. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt into the same bowl and stir to blend. Incorporate the zucchini and nuts. The blend should be thick.
4. Spread the batter across the baking pan, and sprinkle the chips over the top.
5. Bake for 30 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
6. Remove, cool and slice into squares.
They'll keep for about 3 days at room temperature, or wrap individually and freeze for future snacking.

But if, like me, you lack both garden and porch (alas!), you can always soothe your great green envy with a kitchy needlecraft kit like this one, uncovered on a recent web foray. Those crazy crafters! No stone unturned. No zucchini unstitched.

However you choose to celebrate, I wish you a very happy SSZoYNP Day, and many tasty returns.

Labels: bake sale, holiday, humor, sweets, veggies, weird, zucchini

Down on the Lower East Side, the invasion slipped in quietly.

For ages (was it months? years?) there wasn't a peach to be found. Then suddenly, in the space of a few spectacular days, a fleet of luscious peaches rolled in on fuzzy skins. We saw them first in the Tompkin's Square Greenmarket.

White Peach Donuts (and Sweet Basil Donuts) overtook the ever-seasonal sandwich board outside The Donut Plant. Peach Cobbler Muffins lined up in the Essex Street Market. A Market Beet & Peach Salad materialized on the menu at Little Giant. Towering crates of peaches stood stacked inside the door of Il Laboratorio del Gelato.

Once we realized we were surrounded by peaches on all sides, it was too late. We were powerless against them. How easily they entered our homes, our businesses, our lives. We were captives. Captivated. Stunned. Transfixed.



As the days progressed, I suppose it was predictable that we became accustomed to their presence. I think we developed a kind of stonefruit Stockholm syndrome, allying with them, inviting them to join us at breakfast, lunch, dinner and teatime.

I can't verify anything, but there may have been a few tantalizing trysts of sweet, sticky juice and tender flesh savored over the sink. Who can tell? It's all a dizzy blur now.

In the last few days, I've heard rumors (just whispers, mind you) of a retreat. It seems like a wild fiction. Having become so pervasive, such fixtures in our lives, is it possible they could vanish entirely? I won't believe it.

The future? Speculative. (It always is.) The one thing I can say with certainty is this: our present moment is peaches.

Labels: fruit, gluttony, peaches, seasonal, vice

"So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea."

From Starfish by Eleanor Lerman

Labels: food quotes, Friday, pie, poetry, sweets, writers

I was a lucky little kid. I had parents who read to me and bought me lots of books. Early on, they introduced me to the wonders of the public library and taught me to read, which cracked open the whole world's opportunities.

As an adult I still carry around a whole heap of warm, fuzzy nostalgia for the stories of Rudyard Kipling and Theodor Geisel, the weird poetry of Edward Lear and Shel Silverstein.

Not surprisingly, most of the works that resonated strongly were the ones that featured food.

I vividly remembered poor Ellen Tebbits, yanking up an enormous beet from the mud for her classroom show & tell. I fully empathized with Winnie the Pooh's honey obsession and puzzled for years over Eeyore's ascetic thistle diet.

Recently I ran across the Pennsylvania Department of Education's very thorough list of children's books about food and was pleasantly reminded of the wealth of beautiful illustrations and luscious stories still wrapped up within the folds of my brain.

Therefore, in no particular order, I share:

My Top 10 Tasty Tales from the Rosy Days of Childhood
1. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
A town that rains food! Best. Place. Ever. (Or maybe not?)

2. James and the Giant Peach
Roald Dahl's descriptions of fresh peach are so mouthwatering. Take my advice and don't read this book unless it's peach season. (Now is a good time.)

3. Charlie & The Chocolate Factory
Dahl again. Amazing. Creepy. Tantalizing. All at the same time.

4. In the Night Kitchen
The mind of Maurice Sendak is such a treasure. As a youngster, I remember this book being a bit scandalous for its full-frontal nudity... as if depicting a joyful nude was something base. Silly puritans.

5. Green Eggs & Ham
Who doesn't love Green Eggs & Ham? I don't want to meet that person. I remember back in the day when Jesse Jackson read it on Saturday Night Live. Hi-larious.

6. The Tawny Scrawny Lion
A skinny lion that's never full. A rich, delicious stew. A lovely little book.

7. The Poky Little Puppy
Poky. Clumsy. And absolutely greedy for dessert. That's my kind of puppy.

8. The Little Red Hen
She's a go-getter, that little red hen, and she really promotes the whole "dining at the source" concept years before it was cool.

9.Stone Soup
It's a classic tale that's been told many times, but this is the tasty version I remember.

10. The Giant Jam Sandwich
Peril! Terrified villagers! If only all such problems could be solved with a giant jam sandwich.

Have a treasured food story from your childhood bookshelf? Do share!

Labels: books, commentary, lists, recommended