James Kenji Lopez-Alt
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The Pasta Dish That Will Make You Rethink Zucchini
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 00:23:01 +0000 UTCI didn’t expect much when the server set down a bowl of spaghetti coated in a creamy, drab-green sauce tangled with dark brown coins of zucchini and wilted basil leaves. But knowing my friend Nick Anderer, chef and co-owner of Leon’s in New York with his wife Natalie Johnson, there had to be something special lurking beneath the unassuming presentation.
My partner Tessa and I had already worked through a lineup of dishes that played clever riffs on simplicity: spot prawn crudo with grapefruit (pink on pink, impeccably balanced), spring vegetables with mint (green on green, impeccably fresh), and hummus with falafel (brown on brown, impeccably light and crisp). Each dish was a burst of freshness and flavor that belied its simple appearance. So while I had high hopes for the spaghetti, I wasn’t prepared for what happened after the first bite.
[The spaghetti alla Nerano at Leon's in New York]
The zucchini changed everything I thought I knew about zucchini. Sweet, caramelized, faintly smoky, and deeply savory—it was like tasting the vegetable for the first time. It was rich and creamy yet somehow didn't feel heavy. Tessa and I sat there marveling at how much flavor could come from something so simple. The pasta turned out to be the knockout hit of a night already filled with knockouts. As soon as I tasted it, I knew it was something I wanted to learn how to make at home.
From Nerano to New York
Nick stopped by our table to talk about the dish, which he learned to make in the tiny seaside town of Nerano, just south of the Amalfi coast. According to most accounts, spaghetti alla Nerano was first made famous in the early 1950s at Maria Grazia, a trattoria still open today. Like most Italian cooking, it relies on simple, seasonal ingredients and a bit of technique: zucchini fried in olive oil, fresh basil, spaghetti, and a semi-aged local cow’s milk cheese called provolone del Monaco. That last ingredient is a cheese that is nearly impossible to find in the U.S. In Nick's version, he uses Parmesan.
Over the decades, pasta alla Nerano remained something of a local specialty until it recently got a burst of international attention thanks to Stanley Tucci. In his series Searching for Italy, Tucci described the dish as “life-changing,” “unbelievable,” and “one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.” His enthusiasm helped push it into the global spotlight, proving that even a vegetable we think of as humble can carry an entire pasta dish if it’s handled correctly.
The Keys to Flavor
According to Nick, two details make the dish work. The first is the zucchini itself. At Leon’s, he uses small, ridged zucchini Romanesco (costata squash). They’re denser and less watery than the smooth-skinned supermarket kind, which means more concentrated flavor.
The second is how you cook them. Sliced zucchini coins are fried in olive oil until they reach a deep golden brown—dark enough to bring out nutty sweetness without crossing into bitterness. At Leon’s, the slices are drained and then left uncovered in the refrigerator overnight. This step allows moisture to evaporate and flavor to concentrate even further.
The next day, the zucchini goes into a pan — some times started with a bit of sauteed garlic —along with a splash of pasta water. As it simmers, the browned edges release their smoky sweetness into the sauce. Basil and just-cooked spaghetti follow, along with a knob of butter. Only once the pan is off heat does the cheese go in, stirred with more pasta water until it emulsifies into a creamy, glossy sauce.
The Science of Flavorful Zucchini
So what makes zucchini, of all things, so good here? The answer is browning. Zucchini is about 95 percent water. Cook it gently, and that water seeps out long before the flesh has a chance to caramelize, leaving you with a mushy, bland vegetable. The trick to Nerano is slicing the zucchini, salting it lightly, and then frying it quickly in hot olive oil so that the moisture evaporates rapidly and the surface sugars and amino acids can undergo the Maillard reaction.
I tried making it with the ridged Roman zucchini that Nick used as well as with regular zucchini and summer squash. While the Roman zucchini was the easiest to fry, regular zucchini and squash worked very well, so long as they were still small and dense.
I found that the goal is to get the zucchini slices as dark as you can manage without tipping into blackness. Too pale, and you miss the deep nutty sweetness that defines the dish; too far, and you introduce bitterness. When you find the sweet spot, the zucchini becomes smoky, savory, and complex—flavors that dissolve into the simmering pasta water and transform the sauce.
I wondered about the extra step overnight air-drying step that Nick and some other recipes suggest. I fried off zucchini disks, laid them out on a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet, then left them uncovered in the fridge overnight before testing them against a batch of zucchini that I fried just before forming the sauce. Tasted side by side, the air-dried zucchini is indeed more intense in flavor, but even zucchini fried just before making the sauce comes out absolutely delicious. It's a step worth taking if you have the fridge space and the patience to plan ahead.
Building the Sauce
When I first tried making the dish, my instinct was that the basil should be added raw at the end to keep it bright. But at Leon’s, the leaves were cooked and wilted into the pasta. Instead of sharp bursts of basil, the whole dish carried a gentle perfume, much the way basil that bakes on top of a Neapolitan pizza Margherita scents the entire pie. I found that adding the chopped basil leaves to the pan with the zucchini and pasta water before the pasta even went in gave me the same mellow effect.
The pasta itself needs attention, too. Instead of boiling it in a gallon of water, I use just enough to submerge it by an inch or so. Less water means more starch concentration, which makes the final sauce creamier and more stable. I also choose bronze die-extruded spaghetti for its rough texture, which releases more starch and clings to the sauce better than smooth pasta. I undercook the pasta by a minute, then let it finish in the zucchini and basil sauce. Butter goes in at the same time.
Once the pasta has simmered to completion in the zucchini and basil-laced sauce, the cheese — whether provolone, parmesan, or Romano — waits until the very end. I stir it in only after the heat is off. Adding it too early risks breaking the emulsion and leaving you with clumps. Off-heat, it melts smoothly, blending with the butter and olive oil to create that silky coating.
Like all emulsions, this one needs care. If it looks greasy or you see fat droplets separating, it’s broken—just add a splash of hot pasta water and toss until it comes back together. If it’s too thin, let it reduce briefly or stir in a little more cheese. Aim for a texture just looser than heavy cream in the pan; by the time it hits the plate, it will have thickened to the perfect consistency.
A drizzle of olive oil and a dusting of cheese finish the dish. What looks like a humble bowl of zucchini spaghetti turns out to be smoky, creamy, fresh, and deeply satisfying—proof that zucchini deserves more than side-dish status.
P.S. make sure you order the Egyptian-spiced pollo al mattone. It's another knockout
Pasta alla Nerano Recipe
Every recipe I publish here is personally tested, tasted, and approved.
What I like About this Recipe:
Good frying technique and olive oil transforms humble zucchini into a flavor-packed summer meal.
Starchy pasta water gets infused with the flavor of zucchini and basil to form a deeply flavored creamy emulsion.
Yield: Serves 2
Active Time: 25 minutes
Total Time: 25 minutes (longer if resting zucchini overnight)
Notes: Use the smallest, densest zucchini you can find. You can also use a mix of zucchini and small summer squash.
Ingredients
1/3 cup best quality extra-virgin olive oil (80 mL), for shallow-frying
2–3 small zucchini (about 10–14 oz / 300–400 g), sliced into ¼-inch (6 mm) rounds (see note)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
(Optional) 1 small garlic clove, sliced thin (about ⅛ oz / 3 g)
1/2 pound spaghetti , preferably bronze-die extruded, such as DeCecco (225 g)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter (14 g)
1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano (about 1.5 oz / 45 g) — or a blend of Parmesan and aged provolone; provolone del Monaco if you can get it
A handful of fresh basil leaves, very roughly chopped (about ⅓ oz / 10 g)
Method
Heat olive oil in a skillet until shimmering but not smoking. Lay as many zucchini slices as you can fit in a single layer and fry, turning occasionally, until deeply browned but not blackened, about 5 minutes. Pour the zucchini and oil through a fine mesh strainer, return the oil to the skillet, and repeat until all the zucchini is fried. If desired, you can then lay the zucchini slices out on a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet and refrigerate them uncovered overnight for extra flavor.
In wide, straight-sided saute pan or braiser, bring a couple inches of water to a boil. Add the spaghetti until just shy of al dente.
Meanwhile, return the zucchini to the a large skillet. If using garlic, add it now and cook, stirring, over medium heat just until fragrant, about 1 minute. When the pasta is about half done, add a ladleful of the pasta water to the skillet with the zucchini. Simmer and stir until the zucchini starts to break down in the sauce and the liquid takes on a deep golden color, a few minutes.
Stir in the torn basil and continue simmering until the pasta is one minute shy of al dente (about 2 minutes less than the package directions). Using tongs, transfer the pasta to the skillet with the zucchini. Add the butter and bring to a simmer over high heat and cook, tossing and stirring continuously until the pasta is fully cooked, adding ladles of pasta water as necessary to keep the sauce loose, creamy, and emulsified.
When the pasta is fully cooked, remove from heat. Stir in the cheese until smooth. Adjust the sauce with more pasta water if necessary. Season with pepper, transfer to a serving platter, and finish with more cheese and a drizzle of olive oil. Serve immediately.
Comments
James Kenji Lopez-Alt
Oh I made a really similar pasta with eggplant a couple weeks ago! To be honest I think eggplant, because of its bitterness, does better with a little tomato to add sweetness and acidity. But you can use a similar process as with the zucchini.
James Kenji Lopez-Alt
Definitely don’t rehydrate! What is actually suggest is to slice or grate, then let it sit uncovered in the fridge overnight before freezing so it can dry out just a little.
Rob Laroche
In my experience with this 1 1/2 inch or less is best. It's a bit rough this time of year as a gardner when these puppies double in diameter overnight so I harvest every day. I slice them incredibly thin to get the most evaporation and leave them on a rack overnight as Kenji calls out above. I cheat with a light dusting of wondra which helps with the browning.
Nickoleon
I made this last weekend and have been thinking how we could process our insane amount of garden zucchini to make it more often. Normally we grate or slice our zucchini to dehydrate or freeze over winter. Google is no help but would you want to brown the zucchini before or after dehydration to get the best Maillard reaction? Would you need to rehydrate them before frying up?
Justin Melamud
I tried this tonight and it was great. I was wondering though how it would be with eggplant instead of zucchini. Sort of like a pasta alla norma but simpler. Fried eggplant is just so good.
James Kenji Lopez-Alt
The nylon ones are from Our Place and my metal tongs are from OXO.
David Troyer
I was really set on making this and could only find medium sized regular green zucchini. it took forever to fry them, I’d be curious to try roasting them instead. regardless, it was delicious
Nanci
Thank you! Looks delicious! Can you share the brand of tongs you are using here? Thank you!
