FoodWatcher

Wandering around the farmers market in July, August, and September, there’s always a deluge of summer squash, including zucchini, yellow squash, pattypan, and more. Unlike its winter counterpart, summer squash has a relatively short shelf life. And although pickling, dehydrating, and freezing are tenable options, summer squash is at its best when fresh. From grilling and roasting to blanching and sautéeing, there are a number of ways to enjoy squash, but given how many varieties are out there, it can be hard to know where to start. 

To really take in every delicious bite of this unique crop and learn more about the different varieties and when and how to cook with them, I reached out to vegetable expert chef Sarah Grueneberg, executive chef and co-owner of Chicago’s critically acclaimed restaurant Monteverde. Her decades of cooking experience—paired with her childhood spent in her family’s personal garden and her 2022 cookbook Listen to Your Vegetables—makes her an expert on all things vegetables, including summer squash. Read below to learn about what defines summer squash, its different types, and tips to help you buy the right one to suit your cooking needs—no matter what kind you choose.

What Is Summer Squash?

Both summer and winter squash belong to the genus Cucurbita, which also includes pumpkins and gourds. Although the terms “squash” and “gourds” are somewhat interchangeable, most botanists agree that “squash” refers to plants within Cucurbita that are cultivated for eating, while “gourd” instead refers to members of the genus that are grown as ornamental crops. Regardless, all the plants contained within this genus are technically classified as herbaceous fruits since they contain seeds. 

There are a number of qualities that differentiate a summer squash from a winter squash. The latter has a thick, hard rind that’s often inedible; a dense, sweet flesh that’s firm and keeps much of its shape when cooked; and is harvested in late summer to early winter. Summer squash, on the other hand, has a thin, edible skin; tender flesh with a mild flavor; and is harvested mostly in June through August.

Summer squash is native to the Americas and has long been a staple ingredient in Central and South American cuisines. Squash derives its name from the Narragansett tribe’s word “askutasquash,” which translates to “eaten raw or uncooked.” European colonization disseminated summer squash across the globe, and it has since become a popular ingredient in other countries around the world, including Italy, Lebanon, India, and the Philippines.

Tips for Picking Summer Squash

No matter where summer squash is grown or what specific variety it is, according to Grueneberg, there’s one overarching quality to consider when assessing options, depending on how you plan to prepare it. “The flesh-to-seed ratio [in a bigger squash] is definitely different than in a smaller squash,” says Grueneberg. “If they're small and baby, they're not going to have a lot of seeds and they're going to be drier, so they’ll char better. They're going to stay a little firmer in texture. The larger the squash are, the more water content it will have and the bigger the seed content will be.” Smaller squashes, therefore, are better for slicing and grilling or dressing and serving raw. Larger squashes, on the other hand, fare better split in half, scooped out, and cooked.

Types of Summer Squash

There are a number of summer squash you may come across in grocery stores, farmers markets, and international markets. Below are seven varieties to familiarize yourself with.

Yellow Squash

The yellow squash is perhaps the first variety that comes to mind when picturing summer squash. Bright and sunny in color with a fat bottom that tapers towards the neck, yellow squash has a mild flavor and slightly firm raw texture. Straightneck and crookneck squash are two varieties that are under the umbrella of yellow squash. They’re suitable for all sorts of uses, including thinly slicing into raw medallions and tossing with a simple dressing, herbs, and other accompaniments for a refreshing summer salad, or cut into coins, topped with crushed, buttery crackers and baked into a yellow squash casserole for a comforting dinner. 

Zucchini

The workhorse of summer squash, zucchini—a green squash that grows about a foot long, slightly resembling an English cucumber—is a staple in home gardens and at farmers markets. Sauteéd, baked into zucchini bread, sliced lengthwise and grilled, or served as a vegetable carpaccio, the zucchini can find a home with almost any cooking method. Their mild and grassy flavor—which ranges from slightly sweet to barely bitter—aids in this summertime staple’s versatility and enduring popularity. Grueneberg is also a fan of eating raw zucchini salads, using smaller “baby” zucchinis, and mentioned one technique she employs to ensure her squash remain crunchy instead of flabby.

“If you shave them raw and if you just toss them with a little bit of salt, it totally changes texture,” says Grueneberg. Tossing raw zucchinis with salt draws out the squash’s moisture through a process called osmosis. As the salt sits on the surface of the zucchini, the moisture inside the zucchini transfers across the plant’s cell membranes to the surface in order to achieve an equal amount of hydration on both sides of the membrane. Salting the squash—a technique we also recommend with tomatoes and cucumbers—in this way while it sits in a colander in the sink or a salad spinner allows the excess moisture to drain off. What you’re left with are the crunchy, raw zucchinis Grueneberg loves to snack on once dressed with oil and seasonings.

“We chill them down and toss them with olive oil and basil,” she says. “And it's one of the most delicious ways I think of eating raw squash.”

Pattypan

Characterized by their short and squat appearance, pattypans are another versatile summer squash with loads of potential. Since they ripen in yellow, green, white, and variegated color patterns, pattypans offer cooks more interesting presentation options in dishes beyond the standard yellow and green colors of other summer squashes. Although they look strikingly different from zucchinis, pattypans have a similar-but-sweeter taste. They’re best harvested when ripe but still small; the larger they get, the starchier and more bitter they become.

Their squat shape makes them perfect for roasting, and they also fare well on the grill if sliced in half lengthwise. Once slightly cooled, grilled pattypan squash can be diced, seasoned, and added to salads, like in this grilled summer squash salad with chimichurri. When grilled, they lend a distinct lightly charred flavor without overpowering the other vegetables in a salad.

Chayote

Chayote squash, native to Mexico, has found a place in several cuisines around the world. The squash is a pale green color with a slightly bumpy exterior and a short, stout shape that resembles a pear. Its crunchy, white flesh and slightly sweet, refreshing taste is somewhere between an apple and a cucumber. It’s become a globally popular ingredient with many applications. In Filipino cuisine, where chayote is referred to as “sayote”, it's added to stir-fries, chop suey, and soup. In southern Louisiana, chayote is called “mirliton” and is stuffed, stewed, sautéed, or even used in casseroles. In Mexico, the squash is often included in soups, like caldo de res, or sliced in salads. Chayote is also part of the cuisines of Mauritius, Portugal, and India, to name a few. Many of these cuisines incorporate the edible stems and leaves of the squash plant as well.

“I have found that shaving them and just doing a real quick blanch on them and eating them in a salad is really yummy,” says Grueneberg. But working with chayote is quite different from other summer squashes, due to their noticeable high starch content and rough texture when left raw. “I would definitely wear gloves because your hands will get that weird kind of starchiness, like when you work with artichokes,” Grueneberg suggests.

Cousa

Popular in Middle Eastern cooking, cousa is light green with a slightly stumpier appearance than other summer squash. Its shape, coupled with its tender flesh and sweet flavor, makes it ideal for scooping out and stuffing with rice, meat, and spices, a popular preparation across Middle Eastern cuisines (which often go by the name dolma). After hollowing out the squash from its neck and stuffing it with a spiced ground beef mixture, the whole squash is poached in tomato paste until it’s tender and the meat is well done. In Arabic, “cousa” refers to both the specific squash used in this dish, as well as stuffed squash dishes themselves.

Tromboncino

Easily recognizable by its larger-than-life size, light green skin, and signature curve, the tromboncino squash is a longtime favorite among Italian cooks for a flavor that’s mild, nutty, and sweeter than zucchini. It’s an heirloom variety of squash from the northern Italian region of Liguria. Italian cooks adore the large, curvy squash for its versatility, flavor, and abundance during harvest.

Traditional Italian cooking methods of the tromboncino include slicing, pan frying, and serving the squash as a side dish, and using its flesh in place of the more standard russet potato to make gnocchi. Grueneberg is a fan of slicing tromboncino lengthwise and layering the slices in place of eggplants to make a tromboncino Parmesan, or incorporating them into a Provençal tian.

Zephyr

The zephyr is a distinct summer squash marked by its two-tone yellow and green skin that has a firm divide between the two colors on the squash’s skin. Popular for its sweet and nutty flavor, the zephyr is a versatile summer squash with a firmer texture that adds a little complexity to any dish, including pastas. It’s normally harvested when it’s between four and six inches long. 

At home, Grueneberg likes to add this squash to her pasta dishes while considering how its shape will hold up against the weight of the noodles: julienned for longer noodles, like spaghetti, or spiralized before tossing with a curly noodle, like fusilli or cavatappi. 

Squash Blossoms

Technically squash blossoms aren’t summer squashes themselves, but it felt wrong not to at least mention what I consider to be one of the best bites of the summer. Squash blossoms are exactly as they sound: the delicate blossoms from the squash plant. You can often find them at farmers markets, but if you’re going to cook garden-grown blossoms, it’s important to know which ones to harvest.

Squash plants produce two types of flowers, with one of them providing pollen and the other being pollinated; the pollinated flowers are the blossoms that eventually mature into squash. In order to maximize the number of mature squash you’re producing while still enjoying one of the season’s best bites, pollen-producing blossoms are the ones to snip from the vine. These types of blossoms can be identified by their long stems that position the blossoms far away from the vine and the pollen-bearing anthers in the center of the petals. It’s important not to harvest all of the pollen-bearing blossoms, though, as they are essential to making sure the squash vines bear fruit.

Though it would be easy to assume squash blossoms would have a floral flavor to them, they’re actually quite mild on their own, with just a hint of squash flavor. If left raw, they add a slight chew to any dish as a garnish. When fried in the traditional manner, though, the blossoms have a satisfying crunch that quickly yields a soft, almost melting mouthfeel. “They have such a beautiful, pure, delicate flavor of squash,” says Grueneberg. “They're so fun to either tear and fold into a dish or to a salad. But fried squash blossoms are one of the best things ever.”

Come summertime, chefs and home cooks everywhere are especially excited—like, really excited—about tomatoes. Tomato tarts, sandwiches, and pastas galore! While we can’t deny that tomatoes are great, there’s also a lot to love about their summer salad sidekick, the cucumber. Cucumbers, which bring coolness, crunch, and a refreshing bite to salads, sandwiches, and even stir-fries, can really make your summer meals pop. Plus, they’re delicious to snack on with a dip or on their own. But because cucumbers are full of moisture, they can turn your meals into a soggy, waterlogged mess. Luckily for us, there’s a simple solution to this problem: salting your cucumbers.

Why You Should Salt Your Cucumbers

Salting your cucumbers initiates the process of osmosis, which expels water from the cucumber's cells while simultaneously enhancing its flavor. As Serious Eats contributor Tim Chin wrote in his guide to brining vegetables, the salt “diffuses across those membranes and seasons the vegetables deeply.” People often think of cucumbers as bland and watery, but depending on the variety, they can be sweet, pleasantly bitter, and even savory. Salt helps cucumbers release their moisture, but, just as importantly, highlights the nuanced flavors we might otherwise miss. 

It’s a technique our editors and contributors rely on. “When I make cucumber dips, I always pre-salt cucumbers to draw out moisture before stirring into the dip, so the excess moisture doesn't thin the dip as it leaches out over time,” says senior culinary editor Leah Colins. 

Culinary editor Genevieve Yam, who despises a soggy salad, frequently salts her cucumbers to prevent her meals from becoming a puddle. And Chin employs this technique in his stir-fried cucumbers and mushroom recipe to help the cucumbers properly sear instead of turning into mush. 

How to Salt Your Cucumbers

You've heard of “set it and forget it,” but what about...salt it and forget it? Salting your cucumbers is such a low effort task that all you need to do is season them, walk away, and let osmosis do the hard work for you. Do it at the beginning of dinner prep, and by the time you've gathered all your mise en place, your cucumbers will be ready to go.

You’ll want to use about half a teaspoon of Diamond Crystal kosher salt for every pound of cucumbers you’re preparing. (Use a quarter teaspoon if using table salt.) Wash and slice the cucumbers, place them in a colander set over a large bowl or sink, then salt them. (You may want to lightly toss them to make sure the cucumbers are evenly coated) Let the cucumbers sit until they begin to release their water, about five to 10 minutes. Some people like to rinse the salt off or dab the cucumbers dry afterwards, but whether you choose to is entirely up to you. If you do rinse them, just be sure to drain them well so you're not adding even more water to your final dish after working to remove moisture—because that would defeat the whole purpose of salting them in the first place. 

Every Easter, my family paints dozens of hard-boiled eggs. Some we reserve for a backyard Easter egg hunt. Others we date and sign, carefully stashing them away in egg cartons, until we bring them out again next year, meticulously unpacking and arranging them in a large glass bowl to create a one-of-a-kind centerpiece for Easter dinner. (The eggs dry naturally, with no unpleasant odor; my mom has eggs my aunt painted for her 50 years ago.) We repurpose the rest for another tradition: pickled eggs. 

In my hometown of York, Pennsylvania, beet-pickled eggs aren't just an Easter treat—they're ubiquitous year-round at picnics and potlucks. The eggs (also referred to as red beet eggs) often play a role in the Pennsylvania Dutch custom of "seven sweets and seven sours," an old custom of serving a variety of sweet and sour dishes—such as baked goods, puddings, pickles, and relishes—at every meal. You'll find red beet eggs at markets, grocery stores, diners, and buffets. If a Central Pennsylvanian mentions pickled eggs, they are almost certainly referring to the red beet kind.

Unlike eggs pickled in a white vinegar brine, red beet eggs are conserved alongside—you guessed it—red beets, which gives the eggs their vivid purple hue. The eggs first take on a pinkish tint, and by day two, the color begins to creep inside, forming a colorful ring around the outer edge of the white. After a week, the entire egg white turns a bright magenta, with the yolk eventually becoming an orangey-pink, too. Brined in a mixture of cider vinegar, water, pickling spices, and cinnamon, these eggs are sweet and tangy, and make a delicious snack or accompaniment to burgers, cold cuts, and potato salad. 

As I mentioned in my recipe for quick-pickled eggs, there are two methods people turn to when pickling: vinegar pickling and lactic-acid fermentation. Unlike fermented pickles, which can take several weeks or months, making quick pickles simply involves pouring a vinegar-based brine over fruits and vegetables, or in this case, eggs, imbuing them with tart flavor. Red beet eggs are not difficult to prepare, but my tips below will help you make ones that taste just like the ones we eat in Pennsylvania, including the ones my mom makes—a dish that I request every time I’m home.

Despite their ease, these pickles require a dose of patience: After layering hard-boiled eggs and sliced pickled beets in a jar and covering everything with hot, cinnamon-infused cider vinegar brine, pop the jar into the fridge and wait. And wait. And then—if you can bear it—wait some more.

4 Tips for Making Red Beet Eggs the Pennsylvania Dutch Way

Use already-pickled beets. My mom makes red beet eggs with home-canned pickled beets, but once those are finished for the season, she turns to store-bought beets, which is the approach I've chosen here. Eggs pickled alongside fresh beets will turn pink faster, but they take much longer to develop the pickled vegetable flavor so essential to these eggs. Fresh isn’t always best, and in my testing, I found that eggs made with already-pickled beets were not only easier and faster to prepare, but more delicious, too. Be sure to choose the pre-sliced kind, but if you only have whole pickled beets, you can slice them thinly to use in this recipe.

The best red beet eggs take on a distinct, sweet and sour pickled beet flavor. Since already-pickled beets have spent several months brining, there’s no need to wait for the beets to pickle (like you would with fresh) before they can impart that flavor to the eggs, allowing you to enjoy the finished product more quickly. Jarred beets also eliminate the messy process of boiling, peeling, and slicing fresh beets.

In both taste and method, the eggs prepared with pickled beets most closely resemble the ones I grew up making and eating in Central Pennsylvania. But if you're a stickler for fresh ingredients, or if you can't find jarred pickled beets, you can use fresh beets instead. Just be sure to let the fresh beets and eggs sit for at least seven days, as the beets will need time to pickle.

Alternate the eggs and beets. Avoid placing all the beets or all of the eggs at the bottom of the container you're pickling in; the more the beets intermingle with the eggs, the more flavor and color they'll impart. 

Infuse your brine with a cinnamon stick and pickling spices. The brine recipe is based on the one my mom makes. The key ingredient in her brine is a cinnamon stick, which infuses the brine with its sweet, spiced woodiness. Pickling spice blends are readily available at most grocery stores, and generally contain some combination of mustard seeds, cloves, black pepper, ginger, cinnamon, coriander, cardamom, bay leaf, dill, mace, allspice, and chile. I prefer one with dried chile for a touch of heat, but feel free to choose one that suits your personal preferences.

Allow the eggs to sit for at least three days. You could eat the eggs after just 24 hours of brining, but I recommend letting them sit for at least three days before digging in. It takes about a week for the whites to turn completely purple, and the longer the eggs sit in the brine, the deeper their flavor (This recipe is especially great for using up leftover Easter eggs, as the dark color of the beets makes it difficult to see the dye-stained whites.)

How to Serve Red Beet Eggs

Serve red beet eggs as an appetizer or side dish, or chop them up to add a pop of color and bright flavor to salads. Make a batch of next-level deviled eggs, or do what I do and simply eat them as a snack. And don't neglect the beets! For me, it's all about balance. (As far as I’m concerned, every egg deserves its own spoonful of beet slices to match.) A Pennsylvania family reunion just wouldn't be the same without a plateful of pickled beets and eggs, their bright purple juices mingling with the potato rolls, chow chow, and Amish macaroni salad.

In a 1-quart jar, layer sliced beets and hard-boiled eggs in alternating layers.

In a medium saucepan, stir together 1/2 cup (120ml) reserved beet pickling liquid, cider vinegar, water, granulated sugar, pickling spice, salt, and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until sugar dissolves, 5 minutes. Reduce heat to low and simmer until brine deepens in color and reduces slightly, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and discard cinnamon stick.

Carefully pour hot brine, along with pickling spices, over beets and eggs to cover completely. Cool to room temperature, about 30 minutes.

Cover with a lid and refrigerate until eggs are sweet, tangy, and have a vivid purple hue, at least 3 days and up to 2 weeks. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Special Equipment

1-quart heat-proof jar, medium saucepan

It’s not too late to turn back. You can make the decision right now to move your life forward, unburdened by…what lies in front of you. Because what lies in front of you is a lot of very charged words about coffee ice cream, a thing you presumably love and have strong feelings about. 

…We do too! That’s why we wanted to warn you upfront.

Alas, recently, the Serious Eats team pulled together nine brands of coffee ice cream you're likely to find in your local supermarket and methodically, empirically, scientifically! tasted its way through them all in a quest to identify the very best. And we…well, we loved the idea of every minute of doing it! The reality was another story.

The Contenders

• Adirondack High Peak Perk Coffee Bean
• Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Toffee
• Breyers Coffee Ice Cream
• Del’s Dairy Farm & Ice Cream Co. Coffee Toffee
• Friendly’s Coffee Ice Cream
• Häagen-Dazs Coffee Ice Cream
• McConnell’s Coffee Ice Cream
• Turkey Hill Colombian Coffee Ice Cream
• Wegman’s Premium Coffee Ice Cream

The Criteria

A good coffee ice cream should eat like you’re drinking a cup of coffee. It, under no circumstances, should eat like you’re eating a cup of coffee. It should be easy! Pleasant! Delicious! If you are sitting there going: “Why on earth would she feel the need to say such a thing?” please consider yourself blessed to have never happened upon a ground-, bean-, and/or coffee-related chunk-filled scoop. This was the clearest common denominator amongst our winners—there! was! nothing! in! them! Anything with even a fleck in it—regardless of the ice cream’s hue—landed in the bottom half of our rankings. In fact, this distinction was so clear that the numerical rankings ran the whooole gamut of the scale, which almost never happens. I normally sit here and say things like “haha we all just love peanut butter no matter what, I guess!” No! Our love of coffee ice cream is deeply, deeply conditional and that condition is “no nonsense in the ice cream!!”

Anyway! That same ice cream should taste more like coffee than it does like milk, but that milky creaminess must be present. If there are other flavors present, they should be vanilla or caramel, but none of those flavors should in any way interfere with the coffee of it all. 

God, I’m wound up! Almost like I’ve been consuming a lot of coffee!! A perfect time to introduce the ratings.

The Rankings

Häagen-Dazs Coffee Ice Cream, 4/5

It doesn’t bring me joy to be A Person Who References The Office at work, but you know that episode where the whole cohort is tallying how many ways Phyllis can describe the way a perfect rainy day makes her feel? Each and every tester ate this sample and proceeded to write something gorgeously cheesy about how content this ice cream made them feel. I will pick on Genevieve specifically for this blurb, because her tasting notes best help me make my point here while still discussing the ice cream productively: “Love the creamy texture, really smooth! This is the only one so far that I have finished the entire sample of. Is this Häagen-Dazs? It’s got such a nice color. I feel like I’m sitting down to enjoy a cup of coffee on a windowsill with a good book. It’s making me feel so many things!”

Friendly’s Coffee Ice Cream, 3.56/5

A decidedly milkier experience than a coffee-ier one, this option ate smoothly and was the color of “cafe con leche with a little too much leche,” Kelli wrote. It was exactly the consistency of ice cream you’d hope would be the base of your diner milkshake or paired with an Irish coffee. I’ve also lost count at this point of how many taste tests we’ve conducted in which a "premium" brand lands first place and an unserious brand (said with affection!) of yore falls decidedly in second; I am out of jokes about how the Serious Eats team needs to pop some magnesium and listen to a Celine Dion album while sitting on the floor. 

Wegman’s Coffee Ice Cream, 3.33/5

Another bronze medal for Wegman’s! Comments on this store brand always, without exception, remark on beautiful bounce and chew. Genevieve wrote that it was “really smooth and creamy; slightly stretchy, but not unpleasantly so!” This was also the boldest, deepest color of the bunch. Dark roast-y! As for the actual flavor, all notes pointed toward a heavier coffee presence, some even going so far as to remark on a coffee syrup/extract flavor.

Turkey Hill Coffee Ice Cream, 3.25/5

Well, I never! In the past few tests, Turkey Hill has performed decidedly poorly—these editors have exclusively found it to be too foamy, too mildly flavored, and just not satisfying. In coffee world, though, that subtlety was a positive. Kelli even went so far as to say this ice cream was “probably the only one I’d eat again,” calling the underlying sweetness “wonderful” with caramel undertones. To be fair, Kelli had never had coffee ice cream before, and all other testers that day found this to be a milder coffee offering.

Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Toffee, 3.25/5

In Ben & Jerry’s defense, we searched high and low for Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz and were only met with this option at three different grocery stores in the vicinity. That said, everyone always enjoys the heft and fresh dairy energy brought forth by a scoop of B&J’s. “The random bits and bobs” of toffee woven throughout this option were “a bit unexpected but not unpleasant,” Amanda thought. It made the whole experience sweeter than testers were hoping for, though, and firmly planted it into “not what [we] think of when [we] think of ‘coffee ice cream’” territory.

Del’s Dairy Farm & Ice Cream Co. Coffee Toffee, 2.9/5

Same notes here as with the Ben & Jerry’s ones right above this, just with more mentions of caramel frapps and imminent toothaches. Smooth! Nicely melty! Really creamy! Just achingly sweet.

Breyers Coffee Ice Cream, 2.5/5

The palest, latte-like color of the batch, which in turn translated to the least present coffee flavor of all. In fact, after some bites, it wasn’t terribly clear that this was a coffee ice cream? It was, like, vague coffee ice cream? Kelli, who at this point decided she does not really like coffee ice cream, wrote: “If you told me this was off-brand amaretto, I would believe you.” That said, it was plenty frothy! And that’s a part of coffee, so!

Adirondack High Peak Perk Coffee Bean, 1.33/5

OK so, they really heard “coffee” and went “find me all the coffee you can. No no, don’t do anything to it, just get it into the ice cream. No!! I don’t care if it looks like that!! Just put all the coffee in the ice cream.” So, listen. If you want some sandy, almost-certainly caffeinated coffee ice cream, this is for you. It was not for our editors, who wrote things like “If I wanted to eat my coffee machine, I would” and “IT LITERALLY IS LIKE A MOUTHFUL OF COFFEE GROUNDS.”

McConnell’s Coffee Ice Cream, 1.25/5

Same thing as Adirondack, but with even more coffee. In fact, legend goes that the Serious Eats editorial team still hasn’t slept or known peace to this day.

Our Testing Methodology

All taste tests are conducted with brands completely hidden and without discussion. Tasters taste samples in random order. For example, taster A may taste sample 1 first, while taster B will taste sample 6 first. This is to prevent palate fatigue from unfairly giving any one sample an advantage. Tasters are asked to fill out tasting sheets ranking the samples for various criteria. All data is tabulated and results are calculated with no editorial input in order to give us the most impartial representation of actual results possible.