But my garden squash patch is almost entirely devoted to spaghetti because it’s such a work horse in flash-cooked warm salads. On the previous post, Getting Our Acts Together, I showed how prettily spaghy dressed up a New Year’s potluck dish (that I took to KCC). And how easily I got fed the following day by simply making some gremolata to go with.

Now here’s day three. Still spaghetti squash waiting in the fridge so I got a full blast burner going under my cast iron wok, poured in a puddle of water, grated a broccoli stem and gave the florets a brief chop. Into the steaming heat the good greens went along with some scooped out spaghetti squash. By the time I found some olives to toss in and a plate, the squash was warm and broc al dente.

Dressing was some olive oil poured over, pinch of coarse salt, grind of black pepper, lemon zest grated right on top, lotsa fresh squeeze lemon juice to follow, and a big fluffy grating of parmesan using my hand dandy microplane.

Yup, I could have stopped to mince some garlic but I didn’t and things were luscious with the olives especially saying, “hello.”

So, that’s getting on a roll with spaghetti squash, day 3. You can put it in a blender with eggs and cornmeal to bake up like pizza crust and top it with the usual too. Who knows, day 4 might just roll on out with that little number–or even some big puffy yellow muffins. How about you? Into to getting around and getting on a roll?

So here you go.

In these vids I show how to

1. Turn the burner on high with a puddle of water.
2. Put your rustically chopped veggies in, in the order of which takes longest to cook Build your flavor using the sacred quartet: oil, vinegar, salt, pepper
3. Pair with protein and carbs
4. And bring on the goodies to make Plain Jane fare rock your socks!

It’s as simple as that, and the clean-up is too. Plus I talk about eating seasonally, thrift, health, and how delicious this food revolution really truly is. Hope you come along. We’re having a blast…

This post is for one of the women at the last cooking class I did. I was talking about how much it streamlines cooking when you keep things you use a lot out handy. She wanted to know what was out on my counter.

Well, here it is–at least this is how it looked at one point not long ago by the looks of the unheaded cabbage from the garden that I was getting ready to flash cook.

Mainly there’s a bunch of vinegars and even a wedge of lime left from the last go round. Beyond that in the fun yellow dish is salt, red chile pepper in the green depression glass, a black pepper mill, cinnamon and a pretty spoon in the orange pot, soda in the tiny powder blue dish, and whole nutmeg in the white dish with the piano score.  Oftentimes there are bouquets of fresh herbs too–big ones of parsley and cilantro when I get those herbs store bought and a small one of mixed herbs from my garden, the various sprigs of summer savory, mint, thyme, rosemary, and sage each clamoring to be chosen. There’s usually a bottle of good oil sitting there as well to complete what are essentially the components for making vegetables taste good–whether you’re dressing a cold salad or dolling up a soup or warm salad.

This is just my scene at the moment, though. You can count on it to change as I get on a roll with this and that. Sometimes the dry mustard will come out of the cupboard and take a handy place. Other times there might be a bottle of fish sauce lurking about–since after being in Thailand I discovered how fabulous a conservative squirt of this anchovy elixir makes so many dishes, Thai or not, taste. Then again, sometimes the spices aren’t around at all when I switch into a mode of working mainly with the classic quartet our grandmothers understood so very very well: oil, vinegar, salt and pepper.

Having things out handy. It doesn’t take much. You get to be an artist if you want and stash your bits and bobs in pretty vessels. Mostly, though, when it comes time to cook, things are at the ready and you’ll find yourself less inclined to grab bottles of prefab dressings and sauces. As my accordian-playing grandmother from Norway used to say, “Here’s hoping…”

In Soupy’s company, I found fascination too. Fascination for the feel of the warm bowl in my hands. Fascination for the smell of the broth wafting upwards on slender tendrils of steam. And deep appreciation for the wintry favors that melded together in this pale shade of spring offering.

Finally, for those of you who’ve not seen Soupy immortalized in Beyond Measure, here she is.

And really, finally–here’s a version of Soupy Soup I made, April 2010. It’s not soup at all since I didn’t use that much water. Principle’s the same though–and the parsley sings like it always does.

I’ve been out and about at natural food markets doing book signings–and offering samples from Beyond Measure. The last few days I’ve been on a roll with my stuffed dates recipe. You can’t get a more innocent and easier holiday treat than stuffed dates.

As usual, it’s what you put on your foundation that makes or breaks a meal. Buried under all the Gorgonzola and toasted walnuts are nothing more than beets, garbs, and beet greens plus Swiss chard. Here’s how it all worked.

My first catering job appeared last week, so I turned to the Red and Yellow Beets with Blue Cheese in Cooking Beyond Measure (page 116). An inspired recipe idea but not one that worked for me at the moment. No yellow beets. No time for roasting. Still, the idea compelled, so I got on a roll went with the flow. Beet and Blues appeared nestled down in a big casserole for toting to the do-wah.

Here in Portland, Oregon, it’s as if Mother Nature threw a switch and autumn commenced. I’m sure golden days are yet to come, but at the moment it’s brisk and cloudy. Gone are the fresh tomatoes and the lean, clean flavors that taste so great when it’s hot. Here are chiles and spices and everything that make fall and the holidays so enticing, so mysterious, so fragrant and alluring.

Pictured are the outrageously hot Thai chiles, fresh from the Asian grocery down the street. One of these babies minced together with garlic puts serious wow-appeal in everything from soup to warm salads.

Then, of course, there’s the whole nutmeg. It goes on my cereal daily, fresh off the petite rasp grater a friend gave me. Once you get a taste–and a yen for the arresting smell–of fresh spices, you’ll be hard put to settle for the preground stuff.

The green pods are cardamom, that potent spice favored by Scandinavians for cookies, breads, and fruit soups. I’ve found that it also is lovely for dipped pears and oranges–as well as almonds. In fact, I included a recipe note for cardamom almonds in Beyond Measure–basically tossing toasted almonds in melted butter and dusting them with peppery cardamom.

Cardamom pods are great to work with while you’re watching one of the presidential debates or the latest news on our fearsome economy. Before I settle in in front of the tube, I crack the outer husks on the cutting board with a rolling pin. Then it’s just a matter of picking the dark brown spice out.

Once your tv-watching for the evening has come to a conclusion, a quick whirl in the coffee bean grinder nets you fresh, fragrant cardamom that will stay lovely throughout the holidays. Also cardamom’s bold smell is a great antidote for whatever you saw on the tube that didn’t set quite right. Free aroma-therapy and all that jazz.

Those who have a copy of Beyond Measure will recognize Celeste from the back cover. Indeed, she’s become a bit of a mascot and will most likely ensconce her lovely self on Hippie Kitchen’s (forthcoming 2009) back cover as well. While we’re not sure if this shot will make the final cut, she did want to pose her green, froggy self with the salsa doings.

As well she should, since she bellies up so nicely to the gypsy, Serrano, Anaheim, and jalapeño peppers I used for this salsa. Beyond that, the salsa is just onion, garlic, lime, and lotsa red plumpers. Cilantro is always called for in the formal recipes, but I didn’t have any around. Also, between me and thee, I didn’t even have limes on my first go round (we go through a batch every few days right now with harvest bringing on the peppers and tomatoes) and used a few shakes of regular old cider vinegar. Celeste thought it was cool–and it was close enough for the guys I go with.

It’s been a year to date that cucumber melon soup first got mention here on the blog. No wonder, cucumbers are hanging heavy on the vines and spilling out of produce bins everywhere when harvest rolls around. So too, the melons–sweet, ripe, and fragrant at summer’s end.

Not really a surprise then, that The Washington Post singled out Cucumber Melon Soup as an example of how measure free cooking works. The article, “Looking to Scale Down a Recipe” Go Figure,” ran 27 August 2008, and we are very pleased to have made the pages of this highly regarded newspaper.

Black’s pick was more on target than she probably realized, because cuke soup was also featured at the book launch along with other tidbits. It got rave reviews.

So Here’s the recipe straight from Cooking Beyond Measure, page 105:

Linda’s my new pal. She knows about computers and business and such. So what could I do when she arrived once again to help the cause, but offer a munch.

It was mainly leftovers that took me 15 minutes to pull together. Mahi mahi (because when I talked to Gary last week that was what he was making) and crook neck squash from the grill that I’d done the night before, lettuces from the garden, and warmed corn tortillas into which to fold the fish along with some blue cheese.

The usual suspects were there: fish sauce and red chile into the warmed mahi mahi, olive oil worked onto the lettuces with my hands, fresh cracked pepper, pinches of coarse salt.

Linda ate with the same relish I do. She loved my simple, affordable measurefree food. She can come to dinner at mi casa any time.

Speaking of the living being easy, you might notice the braids of garlic in the photo. I spent a joyful evening a couple weeks ago harvesting. It’s a first for me to grow a year’s supply of garlic and the feeling of provisioning the larder is quite nice. My braids ain’t half bad either for a newbie, don’t you think?