Corn and Squash Blossom Fritters: Near and Dear to My Heart & Stomach

Fiori di zucca, squash blossoms, zucchini flowers or as my father calls them: Cuccuzza flowers. If you are Italian American, chances are you have heard the reiteration of the word Cuccuzza from you parents or grandparents, and it sounds a lot like: GooGootz. The flower of squash plants are not only eatable, but they are delicious and for me, it isn't summer until I have eaten one.

My father's parents lived next door to us with my Uncle Joe, Aunt and cousins and our adjoining backyards were transformed into a giant garden by my Nonno when we moved out to Long Island as young children. It was his own small replica of the land he had back in Calabria equipped with animals and more produce than you would ever need. This included loads of cuccuzza plants and their flowers. My Nonna had the task of using all of the 'fruits' of his labor, so she would make 'Pitteluzze' a few times a week for all of us. These were fritters made out of squash, their flowers, basil and grated cheese. They were absolutely delicious, and the best way to use the abundance of flowers that are very delicate but tend to have short shelf lives and can grow like wildfire.

Many times, the largest, freshest zucchini flowers were given to my Mother's Sicilian parents and these flowers were battered and fried whole by my Grandmother. Then she would top them with her signature marinara sauce, basil and mozzarella and bake them. Yum. The kicker was when my grandfather would then take these baked flowers and stack them with thinly sliced Genoa salami, a drizzle of olive oil on a fresh soft roll. Flavor jackpot. He used to make me these sandwiches for my drives back up to college. Salty, heavenly goodness.

When my Nonna got too old to cook like she used to, and my Uncle Joe, the 'Renaissance Man' in the family took over the task, he would research food trends in Italy and make us fancy, cutting edge stuffed zucchini flowers filled with all sorts of interesting ingredients. He would show up at our kitchen door via the shared backyard at all hours of the night bearing plates of his latest creation for us to try.

There is nothing like family and nurturing the ones you love with food. I have mixed feelings when I receive a bag of fresh cuccuzze flowers from my parents. I would do anything to just be handed a Pitteluzze from Nonna, a greasy flower-bomb sandwich from my Grandfather, or a ham and cheese stuffed flower from my Uncle Joe. No matter how bittersweet, I am excited to carry on the tradition, and experiment a little or be traditional with them, to make them for my husband AND to eat them.

The last batch of cuccuzza flowers I was given were past their prime by the time I was able to cook them, and I had two ears of fresh corn in the house, so I decided to make my own version of a fritter using the flowers, a zucchini and fresh corn, so it became kind of like a cross between a 'Pitteluzze' and a corn fritter. Here is that recipe:

Ingredients:

1 medium zucchini, grated and spread out over paper towels to absorb their excess liquid
10-15 zucchini blossoms, chopped
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
2 ears of corn, charred over the stove and then roasted in the oven for ten minutes @ 350 degrees
2 eggs
1/4 cup bread crumbs
3/4 cup AP Flour
2 Tbs olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
vegetable oil for frying
1 Tb corn starch

To Do:

Combine all of the ingredients in a big bowl. Depending on the amount of moisture drawn from the zucchini, you may need to add more flour or breadcrumbs, use your judgement. Start to spoon out and form the fritters when they feel like they are the right consistency, and put them on a plate or baking sheet. When they are all formed, put them in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. This will help them to keep their form for frying. Remove the fritters, and heat a heavy bottomed pan on medium heat with about a 1/4" of vegetable oil. Once the oil is hot, cook the fritters in batches, about 3-4 minutes per side, until golden brown.

They can be served a number of ways, with a dipping sauce like a pesto aioli, just as they are, or as part of an antipasto spread like I did.