Some dishes just feel like coming home, don’t they? For me, this zucchini feta pie is that feeling: like slow Sunday evenings in Riga, jazz humming, the window cracked so the air smells a little like rain and dill. I started making versions of this back in Vilnius, when zucchini from the garden would overrun the kitchen counter. The secret, I’ve learned, isn’t just in the ingredients. It’s in the way it turns ordinary days into little celebrations. Soft zucchini, salty feta, and that layer of golden cheese on top come together—not in a clash, but in quiet harmony, the way an old linen tablecloth softens a table or tea steeps just right after a long afternoon. I love how this pie works for everything: busy weeknights when Mila is underfoot, or dinner with friends when nobody minds using their hands. It’s easy to throw together and forgiving if you get distracted by a good story. If comfort had a flavor, this would be it.
To make the Zucchini Feta Pie, you will need the following ingredients:
Preheat the oven to 400 °F and line a large sheet pan with parchment paper.
Toss the sliced zucchini and diced red onion with 1 tablespoon olive oil, ½ teaspoon garlic powder, ½ teaspoon onion powder, and salt and black pepper to taste on the prepared sheet pan. Spread them out evenly (do not worry if they overlap).
Roast for 20-22 minutes. Then remove the pan from the oven and lower the heat to 375 °F.
In a large bowl, mix together 3 eggs, 5 ounces crumbled feta, ¼ cup grated Parmesan cheese, ¼ cup almond flour, ½ teaspoon dried thyme, and salt and black pepper to taste.
Add the roasted zucchini and onions to the egg mixture and gently stir to coat.
Transfer half of the prepared zucchini egg mixture to a 9-inch pie dish. Sprinkle evenly with ½ cup shredded mozzarella.
Then top with the remaining zucchini egg mixture. Sprinkle with a little more grated Parmesan cheese.
Bake for 50 minutes or until golden brown on top.
Serve warm.
To bring this gentle pie to life, you’ll want a few good things by your side in the kitchen. Start with a big, sturdy sheet pan: you’ll see why after you roast the zucchini and onions. Pull out your sharpest knife for those slices, and I always reach for my heavy wooden cutting board—it’s steady, it feels reliable. Grab a large bowl for mixing (the kind big enough for flour clouds and runaway cheese), and your favorite 9-inch pie dish, maybe the one with a little chip in the edge. You’ll need an oven, parchment paper, a strong whisk or just your favorite wooden spoon, and a moment of patience while it all bakes. That’s about it. No fancy gadgets, just things that feel good in your hands.
Look, I’ve made this pie more times than I can count: sometimes distracted, sometimes with a toddler pulling at my apron. Here’s what actually matters:
If you crave some heat, stir a pinch of red pepper flakes into the eggs. Maybe add a gentle shake of smoked paprika—suddenly, your pie has a little swagger. It’s amazing next to a cold salad, or when autumn hits and you want a bit of warmth with each bite.
Sometimes I pretend I’m cooking on a Greek island, not in my Riga kitchen. Chop up a small handful of tomatoes that have been dried gently in the sun, toss in some green olives, and let your pie travel. Serve with a simple cucumber salad, and pour yourself something fizzy.
This pie stands alone, but why not let it mingle? A crisp green salad with tangy vinaigrette brightens every bite. On colder nights, roasted potatoes feel extra comforting. If you want something lighter, couscous salad works beautifully. I am a firm believer in putting a dollop of thick yogurt or tzatziki on the side—cool against the warm, salty middle. And if you’re opening a bottle, I find a crisp white wine or a light rosé is just right. It sits beside the flavors of the pie without shouting over them. Your table, your rules.
Absolutely. I usually make it the night before if I have friends coming. Bake, let it cool, then pop it back in the oven at 350°F when you’re ready. It holds up, maybe even tastes a little better by morning.
No almond flour? Don’t worry. Breadcrumbs work, even panko if you want extra crunch. I’ve used gluten-free ones when friends visit. Nothing fancy. Just use what you have.
Yes, you can. Let it cool, wrap it well (plastic, then foil), and it will wait for you in the freezer for up to three months. Thaw in the fridge, then reheat in the oven so the crust crisps up again. Trust me—I once found a forgotten slice and it made a perfect solo lunch.
I’ve pulled plenty of sad, droopy pies out of the oven. The trick: roast your zucchini well so it’s not swimming in liquid, and slide your pie dish into the oven a few minutes before the filling goes in. Starting hot keeps the base firm and golden.
You’re not stuck. Goat cheese is a tangy, creamy swap, ricotta makes everything softer and, honestly, sometimes I toss in bits of leftover hard cheese. Just hold back on the salt if your cheese is powerful. Taste as you go—your taste buds know best.
That’s really it. Bake, improvise, and if the pie crumbles a bit, pour an extra glass of wine and call it rustic. Cooking isn’t about perfection. It’s about pleasure, and maybe a table full of crumbs when you’re done.
Cooking can be a delightful journey, and this recipe is a perfect companion for a cozy evening at home. With its blend of comforting flavors and inviting aromas, it’s designed to bring joy to your table and warm hearts. Gather your ingredients and get ready to create a dish that’s not just about nourishment, but also about connection and shared moments.
This gf pie is perfect for our cozy dinners!
