Some products, at first glance, seem fragile. Too delicate, almost fleeting. But it only takes two fingers and a moment of attention to realise that the Zucchini Flower is anything but.
The Zucchini Flower is light, delicate, almost shy. With golden petals and a silky texture, it carries between 7 and 12 cm of promise. It doesn’t shout, doesn’t impose — but wherever it goes, it transforms. The flavour is subtle, almost neutral, which makes it versatile — able to absorb what surrounds it while still remaining distinct.
Cook it just once — battered and fried in a light tempura, gratinéed, stuffed with ricotta or goat’s cheese, or gently placed on a frittata — and you’ll understand that its fragility is only a façade. There’s substance here. Texture. A flavour that doesn’t demand attention, but envelops you quietly — like something that knows exactly where it belongs on the plate.
In raw salads, it gently softens the acidity of a vinaigrette. In clear soups, it almost dissolves yet leaves a trace. In main dishes, it serves as both a flourish and a statement — laid atop grilled sea bass, or next to roast vegetables, as if to say: “nothing else is needed.”
It’s one of those ingredients that requires no tricks, because it doesn’t need much to shine.
Some of you may think it’s an exaggeration. “A flower?”, you ask. Yes — because sometimes, that’s exactly what’s missing. A detail with no practical purpose, but one that changes everything. Like a cloth napkin, or soft music in the kitchen.
Vegetarians and vegans see it as an ace up their sleeve: light, beautiful, full of potential. But you don’t need to follow any label to give it space on your plate. Just the desire to try — and the appreciation of starting with something simple.
The Zucchini Flower is a reminder that sophistication and simplicity aren’t opposites — they’re neighbours.
These days, whenever we harvest courgette flowers, we do it more slowly. It’s no longer just a product, it’s a moment. And maybe that’s the real luxury: having time to notice.
Available now, while the season allows. And that alone makes them worthwhile.