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Cheesy Zucchini Rice — What We Made When the Garden Gave Everything It Had Left

Fall is here, or what passes for fall in south Louisiana, which means the temperature dropped from "unbearable" to "merely oppressive" and the mosquitoes have downgraded from "aerial assault" to "persistent nuisance." But the light changes. That's how you know. The light in September goes from the white, flat glare of summer to something warmer, golden, angled. It comes through the kitchen window at 5 PM and hits the counter in a way that makes everything look like a painting. Joey used to say that Louisiana light in September was God showing off. I think about that every year when the angle changes.

I took the family down to Thibodaux on Saturday for the first time since the flood. Needed to check on the cottage, check on Mama, check on the part of myself that only exists when I'm standing on Bayou Lafourche with the Spanish moss above me and the brown water below me and the sound of nothing — real nothing, bayou nothing, the kind of nothing that cities can't manufacture.

Mama's fine. The cottage is fine. She had the garden producing — late tomatoes, peppers, the last of the okra. She put the kids to work again: Luc picked tomatoes, Colette picked peppers, Rémy picked his nose and then picked okra under close supervision. Pierre was there — he'd been fixing a section of the porch that was rotting, replaced three boards, sanded and painted them. He was finishing up when we arrived. He nodded at me. I nodded at him. Boards looked good. That was the conversation.

Mama and I made smothered okra. If you've never had smothered okra, I need you to set aside whatever you think you know about okra — the slimy reputation, the "I don't like it" reflex — and trust me. When you cook okra low and slow with onion, tomato, garlic, and a little bit of shrimp or andouille, the slime cooks out and what remains is a vegetable that tastes like the garden and the bayou had a baby. It's sweet, it's savory, it's thick, and served over rice it's a complete meal that costs about four dollars to make, which is why Cajuns have been eating it since the dirt was new.

We used Mama's okra — fresh from the garden, cut that morning, still warm from the sun. Fresh okra is a different food than store-bought okra. It snaps when you cut it. It smells green. It hasn't been sitting in a refrigerated truck for three days developing that particular sadness that grocery store produce has, the sadness of being far from home. Mama's okra was home. It was six feet from where it grew. That matters. I can't prove it scientifically, but it matters.

Rémy ate smothered okra for the first time and declared it "slimy but good," which is the most accurate restaurant review ever published. I'm framing it.

Mama’s garden doesn’t stop just because summer does — she’ll coax something out of that soil all the way into October if she can manage it, and that Saturday she had more than enough to work with. While we stood over the stove together working through her okra, she pressed a bag of late-season zucchini into my hands on the way out the door and told me not to let them go to waste. I didn’t. Back home, I turned them into this Cheesy Zucchini Rice — the kind of simple, honest side dish that asks nothing of you and gives everything back, which felt exactly right after a day that had done the same.

Cheesy Zucchini Rice

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

  • 1 cup long-grain white rice
  • 2 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
  • 2 medium zucchini, diced into 1/2-inch pieces
  • 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
  • 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (optional, for garnish)

Instructions

  1. Cook the rice. Combine the rice and broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to low, cover, and cook for 18 minutes or until all liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork.
  2. Sauté the aromatics. While the rice cooks, heat the butter and olive oil together in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Cook the zucchini. Add the diced zucchini to the skillet. Season with the salt and pepper. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until the zucchini is tender and lightly golden at the edges. Do not overcrowd; let it get some color.
  4. Combine. Add the cooked rice to the skillet with the zucchini and stir to combine. Reduce heat to low.
  5. Add the cheese. Sprinkle the cheddar and Parmesan over the rice and zucchini mixture. Stir gently until the cheese is fully melted and the rice is creamy and well coated. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
  6. Serve. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve immediately while the cheese is still melted and the rice is steaming.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 275 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 410mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 27 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

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