I originally found a recipe for quinoa baked zucchini on, you guessed it, Pinterest, but I ended up making some necessary alterations.
I spent a good fifteen minutes looking for quinoa flakes in two different grocery stores. I barely even understand what quinoa is, let alone how it can be made into flakes. Corn flakes? Check. Quinoa flakes? Sounds like bullshit.
I asked a disgruntled employee at the Piggly Wiggly for help, who simply tilted her head and said, “Keen-what?”
At this point I decided that quinoa flour, which the original recipe also calls for, should be enough. I couldn’t find this at the Pig. So I ventured to Kroger and pushed my way through packs of hipsters to get to the organic aisles. I finally found a 10 dollar bag of quinoa flour. Ten dollars for a tiny bag that I would never, ever use again. Ten bucks. That’s more than I would pay for a 6-pack of beer.
Nope, not gonna happen.
So these zucchini slices are merely coated in egg white and breaded with Panko bread crumbs. Consider this the ghetto version, if you will.
Here’s what you’ll need:
• 1 large zucchini, cut into 1/4-inch slices
• 1 egg white
• 1 c bread crumbs
• 1 tsp. garlic powder
• 1 tsp. onion powder
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1/2 tsp. pepper
• whatever other seasonings you want to add—fuck it
After slicing the zucchini, coat each section in egg white. Mix the bread crumbs with your seasonings of choice in a small bowl and submerge each zucchini slice, covering both sides in breading. This is pretty much impossible to do, for some reason. My dry ingredients formed globs and fell off of the zucchini. The process is slightly infuriating.
Line a greased-up baking sheet with the little guys and bake at 425 degrees for about twenty minutes, or until golden brown.
If you’d like to make a sriracha dipping sauce as an accompaniment, mix 1/3 c Greek yogurt (plain—the recipe also offers “tofu mayo” as an option, but it’s hard for me to type those words for about 75 different reasons) with 1-3 tbsp. of sriracha, depending on how much spice you like in your life. Add in 1 tbsp. of fresh lime juice and 3 cloves minced garlic.
This sauce is powerful stuff, folks. Consider adding less sriracha and garlic, unless you need to clear up your sinuses.
Once the zucchini cools, I’d recommend eating it within 10-15 minutes before it goes cold and soggy. This is a great dish if
A) you have a deep frier, and
B) you have company over.
Meanwhile, 1/3 of my zucchini chips are still sitting on my kitchen counter top—Cat stupidly sniffs them before letting out a mournful meow, lamenting the fact that they are not tuna.
C’est la vie, mon petit chat.