Waiting for zucchini flowers

Remember the basket of vegetables that Sig.ra Bertolani brought? Sig.ra Bertolani had given CZ some instructions about how to fry the zucchini flowers, but CZ didn't understand them, so Sig.ra Bertolani promised yesterday that she would show us how to fry them sometime during the afternoon. The only problem was that we didn't really know what time. It's not the Italian way of doing things to make an appointment.

Meanwhile, it was supposed to be audition day and the kids also had rehearsals and lessons. In typically Italian fashion, there were no time slots; one simply had to wait in the hot piazzetta until the directors called one's name. CZ had a bit of an excuse to leave, because she had a lesson. But we had an idea that might get all three kids an early slot: We taught CZ's friend L to say, "Alle due di pomeriggio, la Sig.ra Bertolani ci insegnera' come cucinare i fiori di zucchini." She went over it several times, reading from the back of an envelope amid much laughter, and then she went off to charm the Italian director of the program, with CZ acting as backup. It worked, sort of: "I understand that you have an important cooking lesson," he smiled. "Come back tomorrow."

Then the three kids thought about busking, but they didn't have their trio music, so CZ busked alone and made 2€ in about five minutes. This proved a good excuse to go get gelato before going back up to the house.

By three p.m., Sig.ra Bertolani still hadn't arrived, and we had to go back into town for rehearsals and groceries, so we thought we'd missed our chance. But when we returned at six, she was ready. She brought over an iron skillet (padella) and tongs (pinze), mixed together a batter of water and flour (this was the part that we hadn't understood), and poured about an inch of olive oil (sesame is better, but olive is what we had) into the skillet. Meanwhile, we pinched the stems and the prickly bottoms out of the flowers and coated them in the batter.

Into the sizzling hot oil went the flowers, where they quickly hardened and turned lightly golden. Only when they hardened were we allowed to move them around with tongs. You had to put them in with your fingers, I think to keep the hot oil from spattering. And the minute they came out, you had to put in the next batch, subito!


Pretty soon we had a batch of zucchini flowers ready, but of course these first ones only lasted a few seconds. Sig.ra Bertolani confessed that she usually ate them as she cooked them herself, because they were better that way. She left me to finish the job, and after a while I had fried two heaping plates of zucchini flowers. We had some bruschetta ready as another appetizer, and fully intended to have pork chops as well, but somehow after two plates of zucchini flowers and a couple of pieces of cannelini bruschetta each, we deferred on the pork chops. This morning Sig. Bertolani brought over some charcoal and newspaper, so we intend to try cooking them tonight on the concrete grill if it stops raining. Even the weather here is unpredictable.

Most people in this music program stay in one of the town's hotels, where they have all their food cooked for them, but because we are in a house and cook for ourselves most nights, we are getting to know the shop people all over town, getting to know the Bertolanis, and are eating some great food with fresh ingredients, fairly cheaply. And after dinner, the kids pull our their instruments and practice their Mozart trio. We've already been told there will be another performance party for the Bertolanis' friends. But of course, this being Italy, we don't know when yet.

One seemingly never knows when things will happen in Italy. But it's easier to wait when you know that something is worth waiting for.

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Location:Castelnuovo di Garfagnana, Italy