I am convinced that tempura is a gift from the food gods. I think it is probably the best way to convince kids to eat their veggies - I might have even been convinced to eat a pea as a child if it had been covered in lacy thread of tempura. What is tempura? In case you have never been so lucky, head to your best local Japanese restaurant and give it a try (my favorite is, of course, Kihachi - you can read about my adventures there here and here). Tempura is the Japanese method of frying. It involves a lighter-than-air batter of egg, cake flour and ice cold water which is very quickly stirred. The coldness of the batter, according to Harold McGee's On Food and Cooking: the Science and Lore of the Kitchen, creates a viscous batter which readily adheres to the surface of the item being battered. The light stirring creates an uneven batter which creates an uneven coating, and the batter must be kept fresh - the flour particles in the batter soak up very little water, making the crust very crispy.
Frying - especially if you don't have any fancy frying equipment - can be a little daunting in the home kitchen. It's messy and stinky, it splatters and splashes oil everywhere, and you will almost certainly burn yourself at least once. Get over it. It's worth the effort. Isn't it fattening? Of course, but you will only eat it in moderation. But you said to feed it to my kids?! Fried food?! What's better, a week straight of eating nothing but raw hot dogs or the same with some fried broccoli thrown in? I thought so. I was a picky child once, too. So picky that peas could not even be placed next to me at the dinner table. Their smell was vile enough to make me incapable of eating anything. I long for those days of obsessive-compulsive will power...
At any rate, I set Husband to work making a filling, and I settled for store-bought tempura batter (but don't tell anyone). Tempura is best eaten as soon as it is made, so if you're having it for an appetizer, make sure the rest of dinner is almost finished before you get started. As with any successful operation, have ready all ingredients, utensils, and resting plate before you begin, as things are certain to get messier if you are scrambling for paper towels with veggies burning in hot oil.
Not having any special frying equipment, I employed my favorite $15 wok to do the job. The wok is a nice choice because its anodized interior means it won't stain as easily as my All-Clad cookware would (just because it's called stainless doesn't make it so - it takes a lot of elbow grease to clean up after trying to fry in All-Clad, no matter what they show you on the Food Network). You should also use a candy/oil thermometer to monitor your oil temperature.
And now you may begin. Carefully stuff the squash blossoms (recipe at the bottom of post) - or don't, they are perfectly delicious unstuffed. You can cut the squash off or leave it attached. You can also fry squash pieces alone, or onion rings, or anything, really. Place about 2 cups of vegetable or peanut oil in your walk, making sure the oil is at least 2 inches deep. Heat the oil to 375 degrees - on my basic Maytag gas range, this is just above medium on the largest burner. Turn on the exhaust fan. Mix the batter swiftly - I like to use a little bit of crushed ice in my water, just to be sure it stays cold throughout the process. Do not overmix. Have ready a large platter layered with paper towels, as well as a clean fork (or chopsticks) and one for using in the batter, and a large slotted spoon or strainer. I like to have my ingredients on one side and my platter on the other, and I work in one direction, from right to left.
Using a fork or chopsticks, place about 4 blossoms into the batter bowl, turning carefully to coat. Carefully place into the hot oil and cook for about 2 minutes - check to see if they are browning slightly and either cook one more minute and then flip, or flip right away if golden. Cook for another 2 minutes. When they are uniformly golden, remove carefully with the slotted spoon on the platter with paper towels. Sprinkle with salt and repeat until they are all fried, being careful to not overcrowd the wok (thereby lowering the oil temperature and ending up with limp blossoms.
After you've fried your veggies, you might want to put a few bits of batter in the oil to use it up - trust me, it makes delightful little crunchy munchies with a bit of salt (pictured right). I predict you won't be able to get enough.
Eat as soon as possible without burning your mouth, carefully employing ice cold beer as needed to soothe sore palates.
Squash Blossom Stuffing
10 baby squash with blossoms attached
1 small shallot, tiny dice
1/3 cup whole milk ricotta
salt and pepper
Tabasco
bread crumbs
Cut the squash from 4 blossoms and chop very finely. Add it to the shallot and stir into the ricotta. Add a little salt and pepper and a dash or 2 of Tabasco. Add about 1-2 Tbsp bread crumbs and stir until the stuffing can hold its shape when scooped into a ball. Carefully stuff into the blossoms - this is easiest to conduct when the blossoms are at their fullest. If you aren't quite ready to use them, you can refrigerate them for a few hours and fry them later. Any leftover stuffing can be scooped into balls, battered with tempura batter, and fried along with the blossoms.
Source Note: Squash Blossoms are seasonal and fleeting. I bought these from Mead Acres farm at the Worthington Farmer's Market - the only ones I saw for sale; they will probably only be available for about 3 weeks or so, so you have to buy them while you can. I haven't seen them for sale in any grocery store, but if you are friends with a chef, s/he might be able to get them for you, or there's a chance Whole Foods will carry them. Of course, if you grow zucchini or other squash, you'll have plenty of your own.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I have grown a Black Prince tomato. Well, Husband and I have. From Chef Ben's plants. He is tasty and good. I am happy to say he is 100 times better than the one I bought from Chef yesterday. I don't know the farmer who grew that one so I don't feel bad about my hubris.
