Patricia Wells's Zucchini Carpaccio with Avocado

Instructions for a hot day:

1. Go to a bar and have someone pour you a cold wheat beer. Drink it while beads of moisture collect on the glass, cooling the palms of your hand each time you take a sip. Sit in the window of the bar so you can see your fellow citizens pass by (incidentally, where do they find such cute sandals?). As you finish your beer, the knot of tension in your upper back will slowly disintegrate and you'll walk home in a pleasant fog.

2. At home, find yourself the four smallest, firmest, freshest zucchini you can get your hands on. If you must pick them from a garden patch yourself, do so. Slice them lengthwise with a mandoline, if you've got the nerve, or a very sharp knife (I haven't used a mandoline since the Great Thumb-Slicing Incident of 1993, which I think still has my father traumatized, so let's hope this offhand mention doesn't incur some kind of PTSD in him. Stay cool, Pops.). Lengthwise, I said, not crosswise, like I did. Maybe you should wait a little before finishing your beer and then reading the recipe instructions. Definitely wait before using the mandoline.

3. Dress the paper-thin zucchini slices with a lemon juice dressing and collapse on the couch, which is conveniently situated across from the air conditioner. Wait there until the beads of sweat on your brow and back and arms dry. Kill a millipede for the third time this week and thank your lucky stars to be vacating the apartment in a month. Open the door to the back patio and realize you only have a month to enjoy it. Find yourself torn between hatred for millipedes and love for your patio. Realize the Raid fumes might be getting to your head. Feel a twinge of embarrassment for killing a millipede with roach poison. Try to stop thinking about bugs altogether as they are killing your buzz and ruining your already miniscule appetite.

4. Go back to the couch and sit there in the stream of cold air until goose bumps start to appear on your skin. During this time, you may a. read The New Yorker, b. watch an episode of Big Love, or c. try to imagine just exactly where you'd put the couch and hang the paintings in a two-bedroom dream apartment. Choice c. somehow ends up being the most entertaining.

5. When you have tired of your virtual interior decorator, peel and thinly slice an avocado. Attempt to layer avocado slices along with the marinated zucchini slices on a plate. Artistically, if you may. Drizzle the dressing over the vegetables, then pluck little leaves of thyme off the stalk and drop them around the plate. Realize you don't have any pistachios. Briefly contemplate using salted peanuts. Decide against it. Beer hasn't incapacitated you that much. Sufficiently chilled from your wind-powered air conditioner, go out on the patio and eat your salad.

6. Realize happily that raw zucchini are quite delicious, in a subtle, grassy way. With the faint crunch of sliced zucchini against the creamy avocado, punctuated by the herbal thyme, the salad is cooling and delicate and lovely. Think about when you lived down the street from Patricia Wells in Paris and how you used to dream about doing her dinner party dishes in return for cooking classes in Provence. Remember all the one-plate meals you ate in your little studio there, and how lonely you were, which makes you realize just how un-lonely you currently feel. Finish your delicate little dinner and sit in the heat for a few minutes longer. The air-conditioner can wait.

Zucchini Carpaccio with Avocado
Serves 4

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt, plus additional as needed
1/4 cup best-quality pistachio oil, almond oil or extra virgin olive oil
4 small zucchini (about 4 ounces each), trimmed
1 ripe avocado, peeled and very thinly sliced
1/4 cup salted pistachio nuts
4 sprigs fresh lemon thyme, preferably with flowers

1. Stir together lemon juice and  1/2 teaspoon salt in small jar. Add oil, cover  and shake to blend.

2. Slice zucchini lengthwise as thinly as possible, using mandoline or very sharp knife. Spread slices on platter and drizzle with lemon mixture. Tilt platter to evenly coat slices. Cover with plastic wrap and marinate at room temperature for 30 minutes to an hour.

3. Alternate zucchini and avocado slices on individual salad plates, slightly overlapping each slice. Sprinkle with pistachio nuts. Season with salt to taste, garnish with lemon thyme, and serve.

Comments

[Mary]

Your narrative about Paris took me right back to my lonely days on the Place d'Italie. This raw zucchini thing has me intrigued. Your comment about grassy makes me think it might taste awfully good with a dry sauvignon blanc or a chenin blanc.

[Lia]

I loved this post. You have such a beautiful way of sharing little snapshops of your life with your readers.

On another note, I used to have millipedes in the apartment I just moved out of. And would you believe that I never killed them? See, I never saw a single roach in that apartment (which was surprising becuase we had a group of dirty frat boys living right above us). Ok, well there was that ONE time that I saw what I like to call a water bug in the shower, but just once. Any way, I really think the millipedes kept the roaches away and while they are scary with their gazillion legs, I'm convinced that they scared away all the other critters. Or maybe I'm just crazy :)

[Leah]

Well, this does it. You are one of my favorite writers.

[Mindy]

I love the mandoline warning... I too have a thumb meets mandoline story...my husband recalls the day with great head shaking and shuddering...:)
My tiny studio apartment was in Germany, same memory, different location. Thanks for the post! Good stuff.

[radish]

Haa, I just mentioned the mandoline to my boyfriend he laughed at me reminding me of the half a dozen times I almost took my finger off with knife. :) But given how pretty the slices look, the perfectionist in me must have one!

[Lydia]

This post makes me happy! Even in the heat, the chaos of an impending move, and the attack of the millipedes, you have found joy and humor -- and another wonderful Patricia Wells recipe. Nicely done, Luisa.

[Abby]

I'll be eating this on my patio tomorrow - enjoying a sultry Southern summer night.

Thanks.

[Jessika]

Addition: mix wheat beer with fizzy soft drink like sprite and forget all about eating ;).

[ann]

You're so right, this weather is totally made for wheat beers and salads. Good call. Did you guys settle on an apartment yet?

[gemma]

your writing gets better and better and so much fun to read. I'm totally addicted to my dose of wednesday chef reading. Don't EVER stop. And hope you move to FH soon :)
x

[eg]

Hmm. Last night I had Clothilde's Zucchini Carpaccio by way of the Amateur Gourmet. Except with Blue Cheese. It was very good.

[Lisa (Homesick Texan)]

Took you up on your suggestion last night--I had a wheat beer with a slice of lemon followed by a zucchini blossom quesadilla with a tomatillo/avocado sauce. Not quite your carpaccio, but in the same vein and very refreshing and delicious nonetheless. Now I just wish I had that porch--would have been more pleasant than an episode of Big Love!

[Luisa]

Mary - ah, the lonely Paris experience. Sometimes I wonder just how many American girls have lived through that for a year. As for the wine pairing, I'm a dunce when it comes to that sort of stuff, sadly.

Lia - thank you! And your thoughts on the millipede-roach situation made me giggle. Sadly, we've had both coexisting happily in our apartment on numerous occasions. Infuriatingly, more like it.

Leah - wow! Thanks, my dear.

Mindy - oh no, you too!? The mandoline should come with a warning for all the cohabitants of the mandoline-user, I think... :)

Radish - I actually did those slices with a very thin, sharp Sabatier knife. So a mandoline isn't necessarily necessary, but I do hear that it's fun fun fun.

Lydia - thank you so much.

Abby - that sounds lovely!

Jessika - oh yes, I love those. But in this country, you'd get an incomprehending look from the bartender, unless you were at a German bar.

Ann - not yet! It's killing me. More to see tonight and then more hemming and hawing. Awesome!

Gemma - you are a doll. Thank you, sweets.

eg - this is the only time you can eat zucchini raw, in my opinion. When they're small and firm and super-fresh.

Lisa - that sounds delicious! What a lovely combination - are you going to write about it? I hope so.

[surbhi]

Hey Luisa It sounds wonderful..and as I am working in my extremely hot basement kitchen it sounds even more alluring. I just might make it. It was great meeting you.

[Bobbie]

My partial-thumb-loss incident occurred in a college kitchen, while slicing eggplant on an industrial meat-slicer, for eggplant parmesan (for 80). The worst part was, after I returned from the ER and the skin graft, the "jokes" about having found part of my thumb in dinnner. Ugh.

And yeah, I'm not so great with knives, either!

[carly]

Lovely, lovely post. And, strangely enough, just about the same thing I had for dinner. Minus the avocado, plus feta. Though the avocado would have been exactly what it needed.

[c]

btw, if you use meyer lemon juice, somehow, zucchini carpaccio is even better. highly recommend it. also, i find the more lemon juice, the better!

gorgeous pic!

[Julie]

Your writing, which has always been lovely and wonderful, has been soaring lately. Your posts are a pleasure to read.

[Luisa]

Surbhi - it was lovely to meet you, too! I hope you manage to get some relief from the hot kitchen soon.

Bobbie - yikes! that sounds pretty bad. Maybe you should have other people in your house do the slicing for you :)

Carly - Thank you! I do think zucchini and feta are a match made in heaven (cooked zucchini, though).

C - yes, that nice acidic tang is perfect, isn't it? I'll have to try this with Meyers next time, though they're tough to find in NYC.

Julie - Goodness me, thank you so much!