Conquering my Fear of Frying - Ricotta Stuffed Zucchini Flowers

For a long time I refused to engage in any kind of frying in the kitchen. By frying, I mean the sort of cooking that involves a reasonable pool of oil to be in the pan, bubbling and spitting like Mount Vesuvius, mid-eruption. Chips, for example, do not form a part of my repertoire. Generally, at W&W HQ, if we have a hankering for something fried, then we must eat out.

I have found deep-frying in particular to be an altogther stressful experience, invariably resulting in oil spatters on my kitchen floor, stains on my clothing and burns up my arm. There are too many things happening all too quickly, and I have a tendencey to get a little sloppy in the execution. There have been tears on some occasions - sometimes from the pain but mainly out of frustration.

We owned a deep fryer for a while there, but it took me three years to use it and, when I did, it transpired that the temperature gauge was faulty and I wasted my entire batch of salt and pepper squid by throwing it into tepid oil.

Clearly, my relationship with frying has been rocky from the outset, which is a real shame because I can't deny that there are few more enjoyable things in this world than the perfect potato chip or an earth shatteringly crisp, crunchy batter.

However, do not lament for me, friends, for I have recently discovered the secret of frying! Ever since the grand discovery, the W&W kitchen has been a hive of oil-centric activity, with salt and pepper prawns and fried chicken morsels aplenty, and never a tear in sight! My secret? Teamwork. That's right, readers, I concede that I need help, that there is something I can't do on my own. I think it was a desperate attempt on the part of Mr W&W to get me to cook him things from the Blue Eye Dragon cookbook that led him to offer assistance. We now have the whole procedure down pat, like a well-oiled machine (har har). We use a giant stockpot with minimal oil. He gets the oil temperature just right, I get the food in the batter or cornflour or whatever coating is being used. I ease the food in, he pokes it around a bit in the bubbling oil, whilst my extremities are kept a safe distance away (I am still recovering from previous frying-induced burns...). It's a seamless production line, and we have had much success.

I'm glad to have conquered the fear of frying as I can finally replicate favourites such as these:

Ricotta Stuffed Zucchini Flowers
serves 4 as a starter

My love for the fried zucchini flower stems back to a memorable evening we had at Roberts Restaurant in Pokolbin about 4 or 5 few years ago, back when Roberts was at Peppers Convent and Robert and Sally Molines were still at the helm. We had an amazing meal but, as luck would have it, the kitchen lost track of us halfway through. Mr W&W and I were oblivious, deep in conversation and happily halfway to the bottom of a bottle of the finest Margan Cab Merlot. The staff, however, were extremely apologetic over the delay and we were each presented with a little stuffed courgette blossom to 'tide us over'. This was a thing of beauty - a crispy, crunchy batter, a creamy goats cheese and herb filling, a little pool of a roast tomato reduction on the side. It was glorious and cemented within me a love for the humble zucchini flower.

Sometimes fried blossoms can be a bit of a disappointment - either the filling is under-seasoned and the whole thing a greasy, flabby lump, or else the filling is so flavoursome that it overpowers the delicate flavour of the blossoms themselves. I think this recipe achieves a nice balance - creamy ricotta and mascarpone are given depth of flavour by the addition of parmesan, the chopped olives and some delicate herbs. Anchovies would work well in lieu of the olives, I imagine, but I have not tried this as yet. The batter is light and crisp, and the whole thing is set off by a little squeeze of lemon. The blossoms can be stuffed on their own, but if you can find the ones with the little stems attached, then buy these (these are the male zucchini blossoms). The little stems are in fact baby zucchinis and are deliciously sweet. (They also operate as helpful little handles whilst you dredge the blossoms in the batter!).

What you need:

12 - 16 Zucchini/Courgette Flowers (stems attached if possible)

For the filling -
300g fresh ricotta cheese
2 tbs mascarpone cheese
¼ cup grated parmesan cheese
1 tbs chopped fresh herbs (eg parsley, chives, thyme - your choice)
¼ cup finely chopped green or black olives (or substitute a couple of spoonfuls of tapenade, to taste)
½ tsp nutmeg
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the batter -
½ cup cornflour
½ cup plain flour
1 cup cold sparkling mineral water

Vegetable oil for frying
Sea salt flakes and lemon wedges to serve

What to do -

Rinse the blossoms carefully to remove any grit and pat dry with kitchen towel. Open up the blossoms, being careful not to tear the delicate 'petals', and remove the stamen from inside (you can snap it off with your fingers) - discard this. If your blossoms have the stem attached, trim these to an even length, about 1½ inch.

Meanwhile, combine the ingredients for the filling, mixing well with a fork and seasoning with salt and pepper. Taste the mix to check the seasoning and adjust as necessary.

Open out the flowers once more and stuff with the filling using about 2 teaspoonfuls of the cheese mixture for each flower, being careful not to overfill. Twist the ends of the petals areound to enclose the mixture. (The flowers can be prepared earlier in the day to this point).

For the batter, just before you are ready to fry, whisk the two flours together in a bowl to combine, before mixing in the mineral water. Don't worry too much about removing lumps - small lumps are good as they will create crunch in the finished product as they form little air pockets in the batter.

In a deep sided heavy based frypan or saute pan (or a big saucepan if you have neither), add vegetable oil to a depth of about an inch. Heat the oil to 185°C (check with a candy thermometer, or test with a cube of bread - the oil is hot enough if a cube of bread sizzles gently when dropped in the oil and turns golden brown within 30 seconds).

Dredge each stuffed blossom through the prepared batter until evenly coated, and carefully drop in the hot oil. Fry for about a minute each side, or until a lovely golden colour. You will need to fry these in batches so that they do not stick together and to prevent the oil from cooling down too much in the cooking process. I do about 3 at a time, but this will depend on your pan-size. Scoop the cooked blossoms out of the oil with a slotted spoon and place on a paper lined tray or a wire rack set over kitchen towel. Repeat as necessary (if you have quite a few batches to do, have the oven on low and transfer the cooked blossoms to the oven whilst you finish frying).


Serve 3-4 blossoms per person (depending on size, and whether the stem is attached) as a starter, sprinkled with sea salt flakes and with a wedge of lemon on the side.

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A note on the yield:

This recipe makes sufficient filling for a starter to serve 4 people (usually around 12 blossoms, 3 each). I make this dish for my husband and I and just use 6 blossoms, but I still make the full quantity of filling. The filling is excellent to stuff inside pasta - ravioli or tortollini, for example, or inside little cannelonis.