For every year I have had my vegetable patch, I have grown courgettes. If everything else were to become infected with disease or savaged by the ever changing British weather, I can always count on the furry, slightly spiky member of the cucurbit family to provide me with a tremendous crop throughout the summer months (and they help me look like I've still got a small amount of gardening ability inside of me when everything else has wilted and and given up the will to live)
When spring starts to gently tap on the door of the back of the winter months, I easily begin to become over-excited sowing and nurturing multiple numbers of the small but extremely sturdy courgette seeds, memories easily slipping away of feelings that 'if I even see another courgette I'll be sick' and the over-large watery marrows that would one day be at an ample size still bursting with a green freshness, only to return the next day and find a monstrous living organism that would make the carnivorous blood thirsty plant from the Little Shop Of Horrors quake in its terracotta pot.
Every year I make my way enjoyably through hundreds of ways of transforming the courgette into delectable and tantalising meals, from courgette fritters (a particular favourite one year which turned up on the dinner menu at least 3 times a week, plus the cold ones we could have for breakfast the next day), courgette soup (easily helped with a zingy spoon full of creme fraiche) to very finely sliced raw courgette drizzled with good extra virgin olive oil, vine tomatoes and an artistic squiggle of sryupy balsamic reduction.
However, the one thing that had eluded me over the last four years is the gleaming beacon of the courgette flower which looks so bursting with the colour of sunshine that it beckons me towards it. Having always been afraid of cutting this delicate trumpet-like flower off and destroying further growth of the plant and its fruits, I have restrained myself from trying the very cliche and often repetitive recipe of deep fried stuffed courgette flowers, but with ten healthy courgette plants currently taking over my garden, I decided to take full advantage and harvest a small bouquet of the fragile flowers and sample this seasonal recipe.
Not being partial to deep-fried greasy food, I gently stirred a light tempura style batter which encased the flowers like a silk scarf - not suffocating them but smoothly easing its way over the contours of the petals. I piped slightly salty ricotta cheese which I had embellished with fresh mint and basil inside the enclosure of the flower. Carefully placing them in the oil, they were ready within a few minutes, now glowing with a golden hue of the sunset, instead of the beaming brightness of the midday sun. The flowers were covered in a crispy shell which when easily broken gave way to a subtle garden freshness taste which was in no way perfumey like you'd expect a flower of that stature to taste. The background hue of mint and basil and ricotta only crept in on the flavour stakes, the crowning glory was the velvet-in-texture like flower itself.
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The next night the left-over ricotta was singing to me out of the fridge to be used up (in a proper way instead of me just standing with the fridge door open grabbing a spoonful every time I made an excuse to get something out of the fridge), but as it was a Monday I felt hideously guilty for letting something that had been fried in oil pass my lips, so I opted to make the stuffed courgette flowers again, this time giving them a dusting of flour before placing in some heated rapeseed oil in a frying pan (O.K., so not totally healthy, just let me believe it was). Again, in a short time the flowers were a caramelised golden colour whilst soft and non-oily to taste, if anything the flavours of the courgette flower pushed through stronger. If you can imagine the taste of freshly cut grass mixed with sweet baby courgettes then this is what the flowers taste like. With the courgette season just about to go on full rampage I will definitely be sampling these delights again and may even try them without any filling as the star in this show is beautiful petal-twisting flower itself.
Stuffed Courgette Flowers in a Tempura Style Batter
Around 5 or 6 courgette flowers gently cleaned inside to make sure no bugs get an extremely hot wake up call!
1 tub of ricotta mixed with small handfuls of shredded basil and mint leaves with a good pinch of salt.
A large heavy based pan filled half with vegetable oil or a deep fat fryer
100g flour
Cold sparkling water
A handful of ice cubes
Put your oil onto the heat, heating until a small piece of bread dropped in floats to the surface and is golden brown.
Place the flour into a bowl and slowly whisk or stir in the ice-cold sparkling water, mixing until just combined (lumps are O.K.), then add the ice cubes.
Place the ricotta mixture into a piping bag and carefully fill the insides of the flowers, taking care not to over-fill them.
(I used a disposable piping bag to fill my flowers with the ricotta, but you could easily use a teaspoon)
Once your oil is hot enough, dip the flowers into the cold batter mixture and slowly place into the oil, not frying too many at a time.
Once they have turned a golden brown use a slotted spoon to carefully take them out of the oil and place on some kitchen roll to absorb the excess oil.
Serve immediately.
When spring starts to gently tap on the door of the back of the winter months, I easily begin to become over-excited sowing and nurturing multiple numbers of the small but extremely sturdy courgette seeds, memories easily slipping away of feelings that 'if I even see another courgette I'll be sick' and the over-large watery marrows that would one day be at an ample size still bursting with a green freshness, only to return the next day and find a monstrous living organism that would make the carnivorous blood thirsty plant from the Little Shop Of Horrors quake in its terracotta pot.
Every year I make my way enjoyably through hundreds of ways of transforming the courgette into delectable and tantalising meals, from courgette fritters (a particular favourite one year which turned up on the dinner menu at least 3 times a week, plus the cold ones we could have for breakfast the next day), courgette soup (easily helped with a zingy spoon full of creme fraiche) to very finely sliced raw courgette drizzled with good extra virgin olive oil, vine tomatoes and an artistic squiggle of sryupy balsamic reduction.
However, the one thing that had eluded me over the last four years is the gleaming beacon of the courgette flower which looks so bursting with the colour of sunshine that it beckons me towards it. Having always been afraid of cutting this delicate trumpet-like flower off and destroying further growth of the plant and its fruits, I have restrained myself from trying the very cliche and often repetitive recipe of deep fried stuffed courgette flowers, but with ten healthy courgette plants currently taking over my garden, I decided to take full advantage and harvest a small bouquet of the fragile flowers and sample this seasonal recipe.
Not being partial to deep-fried greasy food, I gently stirred a light tempura style batter which encased the flowers like a silk scarf - not suffocating them but smoothly easing its way over the contours of the petals. I piped slightly salty ricotta cheese which I had embellished with fresh mint and basil inside the enclosure of the flower. Carefully placing them in the oil, they were ready within a few minutes, now glowing with a golden hue of the sunset, instead of the beaming brightness of the midday sun. The flowers were covered in a crispy shell which when easily broken gave way to a subtle garden freshness taste which was in no way perfumey like you'd expect a flower of that stature to taste. The background hue of mint and basil and ricotta only crept in on the flavour stakes, the crowning glory was the velvet-in-texture like flower itself.
The next night the left-over ricotta was singing to me out of the fridge to be used up (in a proper way instead of me just standing with the fridge door open grabbing a spoonful every time I made an excuse to get something out of the fridge), but as it was a Monday I felt hideously guilty for letting something that had been fried in oil pass my lips, so I opted to make the stuffed courgette flowers again, this time giving them a dusting of flour before placing in some heated rapeseed oil in a frying pan (O.K., so not totally healthy, just let me believe it was). Again, in a short time the flowers were a caramelised golden colour whilst soft and non-oily to taste, if anything the flavours of the courgette flower pushed through stronger. If you can imagine the taste of freshly cut grass mixed with sweet baby courgettes then this is what the flowers taste like. With the courgette season just about to go on full rampage I will definitely be sampling these delights again and may even try them without any filling as the star in this show is beautiful petal-twisting flower itself.
Stuffed Courgette Flowers in a Tempura Style Batter
Around 5 or 6 courgette flowers gently cleaned inside to make sure no bugs get an extremely hot wake up call!
1 tub of ricotta mixed with small handfuls of shredded basil and mint leaves with a good pinch of salt.
A large heavy based pan filled half with vegetable oil or a deep fat fryer
100g flour
Cold sparkling water
A handful of ice cubes
Put your oil onto the heat, heating until a small piece of bread dropped in floats to the surface and is golden brown.
Place the flour into a bowl and slowly whisk or stir in the ice-cold sparkling water, mixing until just combined (lumps are O.K.), then add the ice cubes.
Place the ricotta mixture into a piping bag and carefully fill the insides of the flowers, taking care not to over-fill them.
(I used a disposable piping bag to fill my flowers with the ricotta, but you could easily use a teaspoon)
Once your oil is hot enough, dip the flowers into the cold batter mixture and slowly place into the oil, not frying too many at a time.
Once they have turned a golden brown use a slotted spoon to carefully take them out of the oil and place on some kitchen roll to absorb the excess oil.
Serve immediately.
What a great description of the colours. Cliches become prevalent because they are so good - lucky you for being able to try this out. Love to eat one right now personally.
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