I know — just the other day I was talking about how much I love summer squash, and how I could gobble up the stuff for every meal, day after day, until the summer ends and I have to return to eating Californian kale that tastes like green construction paper.
I still stand by that statement. But the other day, as I surveyed the contents of my crisper drawer, I realized that I didn’t have to commit to eating all the summer squash in one sitting. Or even in one summer. How nice would it be to toss some of this summer’s zucchini into a stir-fry on a cold February night? Now, I’m just guessing here, because I don’t eat summer squash in February, but something tells me that it would be very nice.
A little bit of Googling was all it took to convince me to freeze the squash for the winter. It’s incredibly easy, and, I might add, a nice gateway experiment in food preservation. (I should know, because now I’m hooked.) No canning, no fussy USDA rules, no equipment — just you, some squash, a knife, and a big pot of boiling water. So, as you might have already ascertained, what follows is less a recipe than it is some advice. Imagine me on the other end of the telephone line, receiver cradled between my ear and shoulder, imparting some zucchini-freezing wisdom like a well-meaning but bossy older sister.
How to Freeze Zucchini and Summer Squash
I want you to know that I actually took pictures for this post — and they were nice ones, too — but they seem to have vanished, probably as a result of overzealous memory card formatting. Please accept my apologies. ETA: Just kidding! I found them!
Before you start
Fill a large pot about halfway with water and set it over high heat. Cover it and bring it to a boil. Prepare a large bowl of ice water and set aside. While the pot of water heats, prep the squash.
Wash the squash
Please, people. You don’t need me to tell you this. But I will anyway. Wash the squash in cold water, using your hands to wipe off any dirt from the skins. Wash your hands, too, you dirty beast.
Slice the squash
If you’re freezing a few pounds’ worth — and you might as well, once you get going — you could use a mandoline or food processor with a slicing attachment to slice the squash into 1/2-inch rounds. Otherwise, just use a regular old chef’s knife.
Parboil the squash
When the pot of water has reached a boil, add the squash. Parboil the squash in the hot water for three minutes. You don’t really want to cook the squash; you definitely don’t want it to be mushy. And don’t crowd the pot — if you have to, you can parboil the squash in several batches, re-using the water.
Shock the squash
After three minutes in the boiling water bath, drain the squash and immediately add it to the ice water so that it stops cooking.
Dry the squash
Drain the squash and dry it by placing each piece on a dry kitchen towel, patting the exposed sides with another kitchen towel. (It occurs to me now that you could use a salad spinner for this job. Try it!)
Freeze the squash
Here’s where I take a different approach than some of the other sources on the web. I like to freeze the squash individually, and then, once they’re all frozen, combine them in a plastic freezer bag. To do this, lay each squash disc out on a cookie tray (make sure it will fit in your freezer) and put the whole tray in the freezer for several hours. (You can tell we just moved house — our freezer is practically empty.) Once the squash is frozen, remove it from the tray and add all the pieces to a plastic freezer bag, forcing out as much air as possible before sealing. If your freezer won’t accommodate a cookie tray, that’s okay. Just be sure the squash is good and dry before bagging it and placing it in the freezer. You might like to label the bag with the date and contents, just in case you get on a freezing rampage, and make some more frozen squash — just remember to eat the older stuff first.
You can learn how to freeze just about anything at the National Center for Home Food Preservation website. Go ahead! Do it! You’ll be happy you did when you can bust out that summer squash in the middle of the winter — and maybe even feel a little smug about it.