
I turn to cookbooks for a variety of different reasons: for ideas for what to cook for dinner, for instructions on how to prepare a specific dish I've tasted elsewhere, but more often than not for inspiration. And to be honest, for the most part,
The Silver Spoon is not one of those cookbooks that inspires me.
It definitely gives me ideas for dinner and specific instructions for Italian dishes, but it just doesn't inspire me. For one thing, I tend to be a mostly visual person (makes sense for a film editor, I guess) and while the drawings in SS are charming, they aren't really mouth-watering.
Though I have to admit that sometimes they're downright hilarious. Like this soup drawing that astutely points out that the soup is inside the tureen.

I also enjoy reading my cookbooks like a good novel, so any book with good chapter introductions and recipe descriptions definitely draws me in and inspires me. SS doesn't do that so much either.
Lately, I've been craving inspiration but have kept on browsing and searching through SS, mostly out of obligation. Last night, I finally killed that sense of obligation with a disappointing seafood crostini. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This post isn't about a failed recipe, it's about rediscovering inspiration and in this particular instance, it is about the last recipe found within the covers of
The Silver Spoon which succeeded in inspiring me.

This came a few weeks ago, when our box was brimming with summer vegetables: three types of tomatoes (cherry, roma and heirloom) and week after week of zucchini.
We'd been getting zucchini and tomatoes in our box for several weeks at this point and while I love both of those vegetables very much, I hadn't been varying what I did with them so much. The zucchini were all sliced and oven roasted - I do so love the caramelized taste of roast zucchini. The tomatoes were almost always sliced and eaten raw.
When I searched through SS this time for a recipe using my box ingredients, I stumbled upon this one, which didn't sound new and different, and well, inspiring, at first blush but it certainly used what I had in the house. It was upon reading the instructions for the recipe that I became intrigued.
The preparation was rather satisfying, a bit like a kindergarten project: I sliced a lovely heirloom tomato, but not all the way through, so that it opened like an accordion. I slipped thin slices of zucchini in between the tomato slices. After that, I sprinkled the tomato-zucchini accordion with chopped parsley and garlic, drizzled it with olive oil and baked it for about thirty minutes.

Then I added thin slices of fresh mozzarella in between the slices and sprinkled some dried oregano and returned the dish to the oven for another ten minutes. I served this dish alongside steak in Balsamic vinegar and some delicious potatoes with onions.
The zucchini-tomato flower looked beautiful on the plate and tasted delicious. I did not often prepare recipes that involved such construction and this opened my mind to other potential baked vegetable creations. I will definitely make this dish (or some variation thereof) again: it would be great dish to serve to company and a different way to use up the zillions of gorgeous tomatoes in our box.
Tasty Factor: A+ Ease of Preparation: B- Modifications: None. This dish didn't need any help.
And now that that's out of the way, time to turn to my gathered pile of inspiration: