Market Zucchini & Hanging Squash Scramble

"This is tremendous." I say, taking another bite.

...

From: Roberto

RE: Wednesday

Or we could shred the zucchini on the box grater, and make a zucchini/egg hash... and not have any pasta. I don't need pasta every night. ;)

From: Tracy

RE: Wednesday

Ooh...excellent idea. Fodder for the next blog post :)

...

The lengths we go to for our eggs, milk, and sunday morning coffee.

Small cooler. Frozen blue ice blocks. Last weeks egg carton, cut in half.

"Just a dozen this week." I said.

"One dozen, large brown." Roberto said to the egg man.

FRESH FISH, FRESHEST FISH IN THE WORLD

"How does he yell like that all day." Roberto asks.

"I don't know, but it's got to annoy the egg and pickle people." I say.

Ugh...The sun, this heat, it's relentless.

Back at the car Roberto transfers the dozen large brown into the egg cartons we've brought from home. Next, stacking them in the cooler beside a now sweating bottle of ice cold whole homogenized. We nestle the blue ice just so.

...

"This might be too much." He said.

"Not once you squeeze out the water and cook it." I said.

Roberto places half the grated zucchini and squash (baby hanging squash from his parents garden) into a towel, squeezing out the excess water into the sink. He does this with the second half as well, before transferring to the pan where butter (now melted) and red onion (diced) wait.

"Can you check for salt." He asks.

"It could use a little." I take a second taste, just to be sure.

Roberto motions for me to add the salt while he cracks the eggs into a bowl. "A little cheese would be nice."

"You want me to grate some cheese?" I ask.

Roberto pours the beaten eggs into the pan and begins the gentle scramble. "That would be nice. Just a little." He says while folding and whirling with the rubber spatula.

I grate the parmesan, a small pile into a paper towel.

I chop the chives.

Roberto presses on with folding and whirling. He adds in the cheese. He adds in the chives.

Remarkably the eggs stay warm as I twirl around the pan with camera in hand.

...

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"It's good." He says.

We eat. It is kitchen quiet (except for an occasional hilarious quip from Arthur, Doug and Carrie).

This is so good. Mmmm.

"Do you like it?" I ask again.