Chef Zucchini.

When I was a little girl, my mom drove this white Pontiac wagon-thing. It was not cute. It also did not have FM radio, only AM. Luckily, I was still just a kid (not yet old enough to shout things like, "This obscure jazz SUCKS! Where's the Soundgarden?") so I was okay with listening to pretty much anything that my mother thought was worthy.

This one radio show in the morning is really the only thing I remember clearly. It was called "Chef Zucchini" and it was a comedy skit of sorts. It came on early, as my mom drove me to school, so it was perfect for the ride down Hoffmeyer Road.

I thought about "Chef Zucchini" tonight while making dinner. See, while Stefan and I were in New Orleans, Jenny and Joy's dad, Frank Peterson, served me the best zucchini ever when we went over to his house. I saw Frank the other night at trivia (he and Rose, Jenny and Joy's mom, were passing through Charleston during their own travels) so I got the recipe. I cooked a zucchini tonight, along with a rather childishly-simple dish of angel hair pasta, grated Romano cheese, butter, and garlic. It was tasty but extremely basic. Which, as y'all know, is about all I'm capable of in the kitchen.

(Y'all gotta 'scuse my blurry pic--I don't have a dang iphone)

Anyways, I haven't heard from Chef Zucchini himself since the 1980's. I hope where ever he is, he's eating well tonight.