{"id":560,"date":"2018-06-10T22:35:37","date_gmt":"2018-06-10T22:35:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/trialbyfryer.com\/?p=560"},"modified":"2018-06-11T18:28:43","modified_gmt":"2018-06-11T18:28:43","slug":"fried-zucchini-and-pasta-salad","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/trialbyfryer.com\/2018\/06\/fried-zucchini-and-pasta-salad\/","title":{"rendered":"Fried Zucchini and Pasta Salad"},"content":{"rendered":"

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On Friday, June 8, 2018, America was again rocked by the apparent suicide of Anthony Bourdain, following so close on the heels of Kate Spade’s death. It seems inappropriate to let this moment pass without comment, but I must admit, I don’t actually know that much about Anthony Bourdain. I’ve seen a couple of episodes of his show “No Reservations,” but I’ve never read his books and I didn’t follow his new show “Parts Unknown.” But, I did know undoubtedly\u00a0of<\/em> him. Friends who were similarly obsessed with good food and travel referenced him constantly, especially when discussing new foods and new restaurants in new places. I always nodded along, telling myself that when I got back home, I’d watch the episode they mentioned, I’d read his original “Kitchen Confidential” book, I’d get to know this man who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to embody the same open-hearted, adventurous, curious attitude I strive for toward food, travel, and life.<\/p>\n

And so, it was with regret that I processed the news about his death – regret that I didn’t get to know this man before he passed (as much as you can know someone by reading their books and watching them on television), regret that I’ll no longer be able to follow along on his journey in real time, only looking backward with a retrospective lens. I’m clearly not the only person who feels this way, as sales of his books have skyrocketed on Amazon after his death<\/a>. This development isn’t necessarily that surprising, but I like to think that Mr. Bourdain would find it a little amusing, a little sad, and a little hopeful – that his untimely death, as heartbreaking as it was, may yet still lead to fuller lives for so many more people, may lead\u00a0people to discover him, to know him, and\u00a0maybe finally to do what he has always advocated –\u00a0to see, to experience, to engage, to eat, to share, to move.<\/em><\/p>\n

I didn’t set out to pair this recipe with the news of Anthony Bourdain’s passing, but it seems fitting. This fried zucchini pasta is by\u00a0Yotam Ottolenghi<\/a>, an Israeli-British chef born in Jerusalem. I visited Israel in 2010 with my friend Priya, and I was awed by the bright salt tang of Tel Aviv, the deep, rich history behind the white stone walls of Jerusalem, and the endless markets with baskets piled high with ruby spices, dried rose hips, and fragrant plump bread. We ate the most flavorful falafel I’d ever tasted, we floated in the Dead Sea, and we spoke about religion, faith, and belonging. It seems appropriate that I honor Anthony Bourdain’s passing with these memories.\u00a0It also seems fitting that a recipe evoking the summery liveliness of the Mediterranean is a good reminder of the joy and inspiration that Anthony Bourdain has brought to so many lives.<\/p>\n

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The Al-Aqsa Mosque, in Jerusalem<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Now – Ottolenghi – his recipes, while looking delicious, are usually far too daunting and intimidating for a weeknight meal. This pasta is different. Yes, you have to fry the zucchini, but it doesn’t actually take all that long (as I’ve already mentioned, I crowd<\/a> most things<\/a> whenever I can, and zucchini is no different), and you can perch yourself on a high chair the whole time you do it. After the zucchini is fried, the rest of the meal comes together rather quickly, and then you have on your hands a flavorful, bright summer pasta that should be eaten outdoors, on a patio, with a dry glass of white wine while you marvel at the beauty, sunset, and life all around you.<\/p>\n