Alright, so I decided to give this scarpaccio thing a try the other day. Heard about it, sounded kinda rustic and simple, right up my alley. Figured, why not? Had some zucchini in the fridge lookin’ a bit lonely, so it seemed like a sign.
Getting Started
First thing, I grabbed those zucchini. Probably had about three medium ones. The recipe I vaguely remembered seeing – or maybe I just made it up in my head, who knows – called for slicing ’em real thin. This, my friends, was the first hurdle. I don’t own one of those fancy mandoline slicers. Nope, just me and my trusty chef’s knife. So, I got to work. Slice, slice, slice. Let me tell you, getting them consistently thin was a bit of a laugh. Some were paper-thin, others a bit chunky. Authentic, right? That’s what I told myself.
Then, the batter. Super basic stuff. I just whisked together some all-purpose flour, a couple of eggs, a splash of milk – didn’t measure, just eyeballed it till it looked like thin pancake batter. Threw in a good pinch of salt and a decent amount of black pepper. Some folks add Parmesan, I think. I had a little nub of Pecorino, so I grated that in. Figured it couldn’t hurt.
Putting It All Together
Once the batter was ready, I tossed in those zucchini slices. Gave ’em a good mix to make sure every piece got coated. The kitchen was starting to smell pretty decent, mostly of pepper and that cheese.
I greased up a baking dish – just a regular ol’ glass one. Poured the whole zucchini-batter mixture in there. Spread it out as evenly as I could. It wasn’t looking like a masterpiece at this point, more like a happy mess. But hey, cooking’s about the journey, sometimes.
The Bake and The Wait
Shoved it into the oven. I think I had it at around 375°F, maybe 400°F? Can’t quite recall, I usually just go by feel. Set a timer for, oh, maybe 20 minutes to start, just to check on it. You know how it is, ovens have their own personalities.
After about 20 minutes, I took a peek. It was starting to set, but still a bit pale. Gave it another 10 minutes. Then another 10. I was looking for those nice golden-brown edges. The smell was getting really good now. That kind of savory, baked goodness.
Patience is key, I’ve learned that the hard way many times. I probably nudged it a bit with a spatula to see if it was cooked through in the middle. Seemed okay.
The Moment of Truth
Finally, it looked done. Golden on top, a bit crispy around the edges. I pulled it out and let it sit for a few minutes. It’s torture, that waiting part when something smells so good.
Then, I cut a slice. Or rather, I sort of hacked a piece out. It held together pretty well, surprisingly! The thicker zucchini pieces were tender, the thinner ones were almost crispy. The cheesy, peppery batter was just right.
Was it the prettiest scarpaccio ever made? Probably not. Did it taste good? Absolutely. It was simple, satisfying, and a great way to use up those zucchini.
Here’s what I took away from this little experiment:
- Thinner is probably better for zucchini: If I had the patience or a mandoline, super thin slices would make it even crispier, I bet.
- Don’t skimp on seasoning: The salt, pepper, and cheese really made it.
- Don’t stress perfection: It’s a rustic dish. Mine looked rustic, tasted great. Win-win.
So yeah, that was my scarpaccio adventure. Pretty straightforward, and definitely something I’ll make again. Maybe next time I’ll throw some fresh herbs in there. Oregano, perhaps? We’ll see. For now, I’m chalking this one up as a success.
