August is nearly upon us, so the best advice is to lock your doors, lower the shades, and pretend nobody’s home.
Because you know that at this point in the gardening season a neighbor is sure to stop by with a bulging bagful of home-grown squash.
When this happens, at least give credit to the desperate bloke for having integrity enough to ring the doorbell.
That’s because an approaching “holiday” encourages something more stealthy: August 8 is (no kidding) “National Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbors’ Porch Day.”
According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, the way you celebrate this informal observance is to “simply wait until the dead of night and quietly creep up to your neighbors’ front doors, leaving plenty of zucchini for them to enjoy.”
The Almanac also suggests leaving a friendly note signed “The Zucchini Fairy.”
Having been “blessed” often with an unexpected attack of squash, I once scribbled these lines to no one in particular:
If I were a lawyer I would move to quash
People who spend their summer growing squash,
And then run around in sweaty desperation
Trying to pawn it all off on the rest of the nation.
Why, a gardener will even sneak into his neighbor’s Hyundai
or Lamborghini
Just to deposit a surplus load of ripe zucchini.
But you’ll never see him giving out sweet potatoes,
And he’ll keep for himself his plump beefsteak tomatoes.
So I say to those who perpetrate these dark misdeeds:
If you won’t eat the squash, bub, please don’t plant the seeds!
Okay, I agree – that’s pretty snarky, so let’s give squash its due: It originated naturally in Central America some 7,000 years ago, where with corn and beans it was part of an ancient agricultural system known as “the three sisters.”
Later, European explorers brought seeds home with them, where they flourished especially in Italy. One variety was given the name “zucchini,” or “little gourd.”
Italian immigrants introduced it to the United States in the 1920s, where its humble bearing belies some of the worldwide recipes for preparing it.
In France, where “little gourd” translates to “courgette,” zucchini puts on some fancy airs. In restaurants there one can order Courgettes à la mentonnaise, Courgettes à la niçoise, and Courgettes à la provençale.
Not to worry, though. The actual recipes are for the old familiar zucchini, either stuffed or mixed with other vegetables – and it all sounds pretty tasty.
Meanwhile, a lookup reveals that zucchini is versatile. One website says that putting some in a blender with yogurt produces an effective skin conditioner. Who knew? Another says zucchini makes a low-calorie snack for pets, and still another says you can eat it raw, grill it, sauté it, roast it, or bake it into casseroles, bread, pancakes, and muffins.
You can also turn it into zucchini noodles, which are called – what else? – Zoodles.
There’s even a recipe for making fermented zucchini pickles.
So can you get a buzz on with those? Unlikely, say the experts, since the alcohol level produced is practically nil.
Now, about the upcoming “holiday”: It was created in the 1980s by a clever entertainer in Pennsylvania, Tom Roy.
Whether intentional or not, there was a sly method to Roy’s madness that pretty much neutralizes snarkiness such as my own.
Garden clubs and food banks that have tongue-in-cheek adopted the “Zucchini Fairy” observance say it’s meant to celebrate that when a neighbor has labored to produce abundance, it’s a blessing when shared with townsfolk and agencies that assist the needy.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac says Tom Roy’s holiday idea is “a gardener’s secret weapon… a chance to share the bounty of your harvest lightheartedly.”
So that does it for me. Bring on the squash, and no need to stay up late doing it. Come over in daylight, ring the doorbell, and hand over that bursting bag. I’ll greet the Zucchini Fairy with a neighborly smile and some updated verse:
Zucchini doesn’t mess around
In sunny, fertile, garden ground,
So let me be somewhat specific:
Its reproduction’s so prolific
That those who tend its shoots in May
By August plot a giveaway.
So, now done with spade and trowel,
The Zucchini Fairy’s on the prowl,
Vowing flavorful rewards
From those humble “little gourds.”
So I’ll admit (and am contrite),
That the Zucchini Fairy’s right!
Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net), a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.
