Zucchini time, it appears, is upon us. In the course of a little over 48 hours last week I was gifted with five quite large specimens. I added these to the two that I had already purchased from the farm market and wondered how and why it is that nature finds the states of either/or to be so amusing. My own plants have only the tiniest little fruits - having lost the first blooms to an unknown nibbler - so it's with only the smallest amount of sighing that I approached my gifts this weekend. Luckily, we don't find anything particularly off-putting about a large zucchini and find them just as delicious as their smaller siblings.

The first thing I do when faced with a zucchini (or yellow squash) glut is grate and freeze a number of them. They'll add fiber and color to winter muffins (or pancakes or quick breads), and the abundant juice they give off after thawing can be combined with whatever liquids called for in a recipe - not an unhandy thing.

For day to day enjoyment, I stick to the usual suspects - raw spears dipped in peanut butter, stir fries and sautés in combination with whatever else is available, coins coated in cornmeal and fried, battered oven "fries" and fritters. It's not a huge repertoire as these things go, but it works and by the time we can't face any of them again the zucchinis are gone and we're on to getting sick of something else.

The last of the list, fritters, are particularly nice. They're quick to make and can take on whatever condiments you have around - I like a nice homemade mayo or salsa, but regular old ketchup is perfectly fine.

The recipe is sort of along the lines of "mix all this stuff together and then cook it" - but in a good way - and so is easy and quick if you get everything ready before you start to actually cook. Get yourself a pound or so of zucchini and grate it (on a box grater or with a food processor) and mix in a teaspoon of both salt and pepper, a chopped garlic clove, and maybe a few tablespoons of something herby - parsley is nice, and so is fresh thyme or maybe bit of rosemary (but not a lot, perhaps mixed with something else?). Mix it all together and add in two eggs, lightly beaten, and 1/3 to 1/2 a cup of all-purpose flour. Be sure to mix the flour in very well, and smoosh up any lumps. Heat two tablespoons of olive oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot enough to sizzle the zucchini mixture, drop 2 tablespoons of it into the pan, leaving an inch or so in between fritters. Cook 2 to 4 minutes on each side (until golden), turning carefully. When completely done, remove to a warm plate. You may need to add more oil to the pan in small amounts as you work through the remaining mixture.

I stayed at home on Friday to give the kids and myself a nice long weekend in which to finish some long-standing projects. Normally, this kind of planning doesn't really pan out for us because we get distracted by the sudden desire to spend two hours running around a playground or there comes an overwhelming need to lie around looking at clouds or we fail to ignore the siren call of Zingo and before you know it - poof! - an entire weekend has come and gone.

This time we managed not only to read about three dozen books (must look into getting a bigger library bag) and watch the latest Bearnstein Bears delivery from Netflix, but we also completed one toile dress, one apron (a gift for my sis-in-law - don't tell!) and two enormous reading pillows (stuffing fluff into pillows is a very fun activity to undertake with little ones, even if the process requires infinitely more time and patience than might otherwise be required), planted four rooted tomato suckers, enjoyed the first of what we hope will be a bumper crop of Sungolds, tried a new restaurant that's been on our list for a while, set out some Japanese beetle traps (which filled almost instantaneously), replaced a couple ball joints on one of the cars (more of a Brainiac operation, with extra emphasis on the aforementioned "infinitely more time and patience", not to mention a fair amount of muscle cream on the resulting sore shoulders), caught up on laundry (the kids love to "fold" and I am happy to let them experiment with the process under the "whistle while you work" clause in the parenting manual and because having them master the "GAP fold" is something in which I have no intention of investing time or energy so I suck it up and live with whatever they manage) and just generally had a great time.

The only thing I ignored was weeding. I am in full-on weeding rebellion, something I know that I will regret and for which I have no excuse other than I Don't Feel Like It. I meant to put down more newspaper last night but totally forgot, becoming engrossed instead in a biography of Sister Parish, someone who - I am quite sure - probably never thought so much about weeds. But it was nice to check out for a while, snuggle in with a Brainiac-poured (and hence quite strong) cocktail and enjoy the satisfaction of jobs well-done. This week will bring more canning (various kinds of pickles and possibly the long hoped-for blueberry pie filling), more laundry (with homemade laundry soap? more on this in another post), and, yes, the weeding. But I suppose even the weeding brings satisfactions of its own, if looked at in the right way.

It's been a week of pickling 'round these parts. We started with mushrooms (much to the dismay of nearly everyone who lives with me), moved on to dilly beans and finished up with a rousing session of spiced lemons. I think it can be fairly said that I am feeling the warm glow of accomplishment. Tempered, as always, by the feelings that so much more needs to be done, but still.

Marinated mushrooms make a great addition to a relish tray, could stand alone as a salad - a scoop nestled in perhaps a raddicchio cup or on the overlapped leaves of endive - and are also fabulous piled on a sandwich. They make a great gift for those in your life who appreciate mushrooms (if you've chosen compatriots wisely, this will be almost everyone you know - alas I have chosen most unwisely) and it's with this in mind that I'm already eyeing up the three and a half pints and thinking, "not enough." But pickled mushrooms are among the easier things to can and, since I live quite close to the mushroom capital of the world (or something) it's a simple matter to pick up more for the process.

Start with four pounds of mushrooms. You can use your basic button variety or get fancier with crimini or something else - or a combination - and leave them whole, if you'd like. This time around I used regular old button mushrooms because 1) their flavor is fine for my purposes and 2) they're not nearly as expensive as other types. I also sliced mine for more flexibility - it's hard to put a whole mushroom on a sandwich, after all.

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in the bottom of a deep pot (not to smoking) and add four pounds of mushrooms. Reduce heat to medium low. Stir the mushrooms frequently to make sure they're heated evenly. While they're heating, dice three or four large cloves of garlic (more if you like, but try not to go for less) and three shallots.* Once the mushrooms begin to give off a bit of liquid, add the garlic and shallots along with 3/4 cup of basalmic vinegar (the cheapie stuff available in most groceries is fine) and 1/4 cup of plain old white vinegar. Stir well and continue to heat on a slow burner until the mushrooms are soft - but not mushy! Remove from heat and transfer to sterilized jars (I usually use half-pints), distributing cooking liquid evenly, seal and process in a boiling hot water bath for 15 minutes). Four pounds of sliced mushrooms results in - more or less - four pints of finished product. Allow the jars to sit for six weeks or so before opening.

And that's that. You can add dried herbs, if you like - thyme is nice, and so is marjoram. Quite simple, fast and super delicious. I'm definitely going to have to make more.

* Although shallots can generally be found year 'round in American supermarkets like most things they're better in their season, which is early- to mid-summer on the northeast. In her incomperable Fancy Pantry Helen Witty suggests trimming and peeling shallots when they're available in season and freezing the cloves (bulbs?) in a quart canning jar, taking them out as needed through the year. Because I believe everything that Mrs. Witty tells me I do exactly this and have found it to be an excellent solution to the shallot-availability problem. So if you live somewhere where mushrooms are better found in fall but you have shallots now, then get the shallots and freeze them so they'll be ready when you are.