Capers in our house can end up anywhere. My mother mixed them with some soft herbs and olive oil into a kind of coarse salsa verde and spooned it over baked or roasted cauliflower. She also introduced them to German-style potato salads, with onion, mustard, and stock. My father fried the capers and served them with asparagus, or he used them for his involtini: thin slices of veal, which he wrapped around a filling of breadcrumbs, capers and herbs, seared and cooked in a white wine sauce. The capers with fried zucchini were served alongside sliced meatloaf or meatballs.
I love all of these uses for capers, but it’s this last combination with zucchini that I find most tempting. Sticking to our family tradition of messing around with family tradition, I often use it in pastas and pasta salads, a custom that never occurred to my grandmother or my father.
I find fried zucchini, with the addition of earthy capers, makes a wonderful base for pasta, as long as there’s something creamy and rich to contrast with the acidity. I normally make my pasta very cheesy, with buffalo mozzarella or a nice pile of shredded pecorino melted through a sauce, to give the lightly pickled zucchini a chance to shine.
However, in my version here, there is no cheese and no meat. The rich creaminess comes from slow-cooking more zucchini, first in olive oil for five minutes, then together with the dried pasta and water, for a deliciously starchy sauce that coats everything with a thick gloss. The fried zucchini and capers, which are added when everything is cooked, break this up, creating extra texture and a fresh edge.
To me, this all makes perfect sense as the next stage in the evolution of my grandmother’s fried zucchini. Perhaps through a bit of selective memory and breaking a few minor rules, I’ve managed to create a new family tradition.