And so it begins. With giddy elation I brought in the first zucchini from my garden today. I’ve been nurturing that ground since April, and though we’ve had plenty of asparagus (which is perennial and requires little care), this is the first of my annual fruits.
Ah, what to do with this beautiful specimen? Muffins? Stir fry? Sauté in butter? The possibilities are enticing!
This little guy is alone on the counter for now, but the time will come when the produce will roll out of my garden in bunches, too fast for handling, and I’ll feel like Ethel and Lucy in the chocolate factory trying to keep up with the bounty.
I’ll give some away, can what I can, (get it?) and generally annoy my husband with my lack of planning and ridiculous quantities of some things and utter lack of others (and my crooked rows, my rows are always wonky and it drives him up a wall).
Then suddenly, one day a frost will end it all.
But today is the day of the first fruits. A day of celebration, a day of beginning. Today we eat the sacrificial zucchini.