A quick swab of the cutting board. And the deal’s done–plenty of time still to listen to Pure Prairie League’s Amie, isn’t that right Sandy?

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…

Not much to say here other than enjoy this vid on mixing up a bean loaf. There’s even an afterthought on one of my favorites, spaghetti squash.

As you can see, when fava beans are fresh picked young and tender, they are beautifully ready to go straight from the pods. No second peeling needed at all. I discovered this simply by working with fava beans from my own garden, and then was gratified to see Italian and Spanish cooks echoing my experience in their books.

With the double peel debate settled, then what to do with fava beans? First is to think of them like a fresh bean. Once you do that you can rock and roll just like I do in Hippie Kitchen. The official recipe is called Fava Bean Sass, a dish made by flash cooking the favas then tossing them with spicy peanut sauce that includes diced apple and shredded carrot to sweeten things. So simple. So delicious. So thrifty–especially if you planted favas in February and are now about ready to harvest them.

The main thing that makes a measure free hippie kitchen work, though, is getting on a roll with things. So once I’ve got a new vegetable or recipe idea in tow, I play-play. If you try this I think you’ll find that eating with the seasons–as in fava beans for days on end while they are the happening thing–does not get boring.

The second round with favas I suggest on page 54 of Hippie Kitchen is incorporating them into a grain salad with leftover millet, radishes, and raisins. A little dressing and you have a balanced spring primavera in one bowl.

Fun, you say, but there’s more favas coming through the door daily. No problem, flash cook them as always with spring onions and green garlic. Spoon the works into warm corn tortillas and top with blue cheese. Then name this Fava Bean Heaven.

———-I hope I’ve piqued your interest in these early summer beans. They are great since along with the peas they are among the first food to grace our gardens and appear in the markets. And if you aren’t growing them just yet and do have to buy favas that need double peeling, don’t give up. Once they are flash cooked, they pop right out of their casings whether the cook does it all ahead or people do it themselves–together at the table while they slow down to relish the harvest whether it’s in a hash, warm salad, or pizza pie.

Flash cooking is the heart of my kitchen scene. It nets me plenty of fresh seasonal vegetables in short order–warm salad style. I’ve talked about it many times here on the blog, but people resonate with the idea so, that we did a video. It’s a 6 minute clip from chopping the onion to chowing down. There’s also a section devoted to it in Hippie Kitchen: 43-45. Think stir fry without the oil, Asian vegetables, or Asian flavors.

If you’re still buying canned beans, here’s a vid to inspire you to keep your money and take back your kitchen. After all a big pot of beans freezes up in to small containers beautifully and you’re set for a week or two.

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.

Aside from this soup tasting great and being so healthy I was able to make it to a book signing, it’s a pleasure to make as well. Your chopping board starts looking like a still life. It helps, of course, to have a menagerie of wooden animals hanging about in your kitchen. As you can see, on this occasion the resident bird, Persia, was overseeing operations even as her flat back made for a handy place to put the garlic.

Americans! We Can Eat Well & Tighten Our Belts! There was a time when only the rich could afford expensive spices. Ah, yes. We all remember the famed Spice Route to Asia. Just Google it, and you’ll find maps, mystery, and intrigue. You’ll find references to cardamom, turmeric, ginger, and cinnamon. Those wonderfully exotic sticks and pods and blossoms and powders.

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So, what better way to eat well while tightening our belts than to make full use of the riches in our cupboards. Of the full range of spices that are there just waiting for us to pop the lids–or even better, do them up fresh in our coffee grinders.

Spices really do make Plain Jane food sing–plain food as humble as beans & rice.

Here’s to dipping pears in butter and allspice, lacing quinoa with cardamom, and putting pinches of coriander, cumin, and cayenne in a pot of pintos. Totally amazing how a little spice can make food rock.

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.