Prophylactic harvesting

Thin, tender, first squash
Originally uploaded by PassionatePossibility.

The zucchini have arrived!

Yesterday I picked the first five slender fruits from gigantic plants that are overflowing their five-foot wide raised beds. Three yellow straight-neck squash tried to hide under the shade of their mother plants but I knew they were ready. I wrenched the thick vines hard to twist them loose--separation anxiety apparently runs rampant in the squash family.

This morning the eight rest placidly on my kitchen counter, shiny, beautiful. And tender. The ideal size for slicing, dicing, sauteeing and even frying (if I throw diet caution to the wind).

They are the calm before the storm, or more aptly, the torrent.

Soon (usually via sneak attack overnight) those tempting, slim fruits will balloon to flabby, dismal creatures that barely resemble zucchini. Tough and aggressive, the dull skins of the mammoth zucchini are stretched almost to breaking by the zoom-zoom growth spurt. I giggle at the thought of zucchini stretch marks, should they actually be able to shrink back down to normal size again.

Of course, they never reduce their size. They keep growing and growing and growing, a Green Giant version of the Energizer Bunny. And as all good gardeners know, leaving the big guys on the vine is an invitation for all the others to stop growing altogether. The mother plant throws all her energy into poking that big baby into the world, hoping for seeds and progeny.

To keep the harvest flowing, I pick every day. Prophylactic harvest, I call it: zucchini contraception of a sort. I lift the deep green scratchy leaves to peek at the emerging squash, choosing only the few that are in immediate danger of developing runaway chubbiness.

For now, I get high marks for zucchini management. Check with me again next week. If I'm hunting down the zucchini pancake recipe, you'll know I've lost control.