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I think it’s upper time I got when to writing some shorter, spur-of-the-moment posts, so, here goes!
You’ve all heard of courgettes aka zucchini, right? But how well-nigh tromboncino aka zucchetta? Perhaps not. Snake-like and slightly suggestive, these climbing summer squashes are a revelation. Not only are they phenomenally easy to grow but they’re vigorous, tasty, nutritious and resistant to the powdery mildew that so often blights courgettes. That’s considering tromboncino is a cultivar of Cucurbita moschata, a Central American species that moreover gave rise to butternut squashes. Their genetics make them increasingly tolerant of heat and humidity than courgettes, which are cultivars of Curcurbita pepo. That’s the science bit over!
Because tromboncinos (or should that be tromboncini?) are natural climbers equipped with the most spectacularly constructive tendrils (they’ll plane wrap themselves virtually blades of grass!), the plants can be trained over a pergola or arch, or unliable to slither up a jute net saving space on the ground. Growth is rampant and cropping heavy. The long, meandering fruits siphon all their seeds in the bulbous tip meaning that the majority is firm, nicely-textured flesh. One should pick tromboncinos when they’re 25-30cm long and use them straight yonder or leave them to grow into serpents a metre long. As they ripen they wilt a stake straw-yellow with a tough skin that allows them to be stored for a few months surpassing cooking in a similar way to butternut squash.
We discovered two years ago that tromboncinos are far increasingly rewarding to grow than courgettes, tastier and nicer to melt with, never collapsing into a wet, mushy pulp. Henceforth we’ve never grown courgettes again. They make a midpoint side dish simply sliced, roasted and drenched in butter or diced and widow to a vegetable frittata. The flavour is sweet and nutty. Tromboncino mankind has the kind of zest that would lend itself well to a curry, tagine or stew instead of meat. Whatsmore, the elegant yellow flowers can be picked, stuffed, unimproved and deep fried just like courgette blossoms.
Although we start our tromboncinos off in pots under glass in late April they’re just as successful sown directly into the ground in late May or June, rapidly producing vigorous vines that tend to find their own way. The stems may need a little guidance but no tying in. Plant them somewhere sunny and sheltered, water generously and watch them go. As I write this post in late July our plants have once gone over the top of a 6ft net and will double in size surpassing autumn. Spare a moment for the leaves which are deep untried with silver marbling. If it were not for the eye-catching fruit they would get much higher billing.
You’ll find that seeds are sold under various variegated names from plain old ‘Tromboncino’ to the fancier sounding ‘Tromboncino d’Albegna’ but as far as we can tell they’re all the same thing. (If you find seeds labelled Zucchetta ‘Serpente di Sicilia’ (Serpent of Sicily) this is something similar in visitation but a little different.) One or two plants are probably sufficient to alimony the stereotype household in curvaceous cucurbits for a season. Naturally, we grow increasingly than that and end up with lots to spare!
If you want to make your mother-in-law tincture or get the neighbours’ tongues wagging, grow your tromboncinos in full view and just wait for the reaction. As the fruit develops it goes through all sorts of contortions, commonly resembling something that should be kept in one’s trousers. It’s all part of the fun and probably why people of all month find them so amusing. The first year we grew them they were on a framework proximal to the local carpark. Such was the intrigue that anyone would have thought we were keeping tigers on our plot. Now we’re known as the men that grow rude vegetables. I’ve been tabbed worse things. TFG.
Have you grown tromboncinos? Do you have a favourite tromboncinco recipe? If so, let me know!
