Zucchini, to be exact.
I have been a member of the zucchini coalition.
You know, the folks who are blessed with an abundance of the summer squash and may be driven over the edge with its ability to set fruit.
It all starts with a couple of hills. But, somewhere along the line, someone else sneaks into the garden and finds a way to supercharge the plants, or surreptitiously plants another couple of hills.
The plants are usually hearty, and require a minimal amount of care. If you are a halfway competent gardener, you can grow zucchini.
Before you know it, harvest begins, and the household begins to reap the bounty. The squash begins to flavor muffins, frittata, waffles, summer skillets, quiche, burgers, fries, salads, on pastry crusts, breads, waffles, main courses, side dishes, pizza, butter, snacks, fritters, sandwiches, spreads, in meatballs, stir fry, ratatouilles, lasagna, cake, brownies, cobbler and cookies.
After running out of ideas for use at home, it behooves a person blessed with bounteous zucchini to bring the fruits to the workplace, complete with recipes on the squash’s many uses. Truthfully, you don’t want to see another long, slender, green creation again that season, but you can’t bring yourself to just throw them away. There’s always composting, but why waste such bounty?
Besides there are at least a few people at work that must learn about how useful the fruit of the plant is. (Why does the music of Little Shop of Horrors keep circulating in my brain?)
Justifiably so, your work mates soon protest mildly as the supply (and recipes) mount, so a grower with a conscience moves to step three, outright trespassing.
I have a friend who regularly attends church services during the time zucchini plants get serious about producing, taking a basket to the worship center, testing car doors, then placing one or two on a seat. In no time at all, he can sneak in for the last part of the sermon.
By the time Halloween rolls around, mercifully the bearing ceases, and supply dwindles… but not completely. Those of us in the zucchini coalition then resort to a mild terrorism.
The strategy is this: Quietly walk to a home. Place a zucchini or two on the stoop. Ring the doorbell, and run.