This zucchini series has gotten me thinking about my mother.  So many of my food memories come from her as she was an avid gardener and accomplished cook.  I have been surprised to see how many of my zucchini recipes come with a memory of Mom and started looking at the roots of these thoughts.

Mom grew up in the Depression, and like so many of her generation learned at an early age what it was like to have very little and to make the most of what you did have.  Nothing was thrown away in our house until all possible use for it had been exhausted.  Plastic bags were rinsed out and reused, especially after they invented Ziploc.  Brown paper bags were saved to drain bacon or  fried foods.  Rubber spatulas were constantly called upon to scrape the least little bit out of a bowl or pan.  Small bits of vegetables were saved to make stock or soup, and inedible scraps were composted to enrich the soil of the garden.  In short, nothing was wasted.  I carry that mantra with me and have met loads of people who grew up with the same generation of parent.

We always had a garden, it was one of mom’s hobbies, and we ate what she grew.  So in the summer, when both her hopes and fears were realized as the zucchini plants began to bear fruit, and continued to produce beautiful dark green zucchini which doubled in size overnight, she did what any frugal Depression-age baby would do:  she searched out and developed new ways to cook it.

For the most part she was hugely successful.  There was a green-tomato-incident that I recall in which the entire family revolted; however, the zucchini dishes became family favorites that I still make today.  Zucchini is forever linked with my mother in the memory of my family.  And with the bounty I’ve found this summer I feel what she must have felt.  An urgency to use what we’ve been given, to not throw away but to turn the abundance into a wonderful repast.  Thanks Mom!