A few weeks ago I made Alison Roman's new stew recipe, and I haven't stopped making it since. It is endlessly adaptable, meaning I can make it with ingredients I have on hand. 

I love vegetable recipes that are dead simple but take ordinary foods and make them taste more interesting and more flavorful than usual. We make these nearly once a week at home, often throwing them in the oven while we eat dinner and catch up on the day, remembering to pull them out when our house is perfumed with the smell.

I've been cooking up lots of tomatoes lately in all kinds of ways. I found a recipe for colorful grape tomatoes sautéed in lots of anchovies and garlic then finished with a good dose of vinegar. I've been adding tomatoes to rice and broth for a rich pilaf, and roasting them with herbs to go alongside my weekly roasted chicken. But my go-to recipe lately has been a tomato and eggplant gratin that is simple and comes together really quickly.

But twice, just for fun, I elevated our grilled corn and made elotes locos and both times it added just the dedacence needed for an otherwise simple summer feast. Elotes locos, tomato salad, lettuce dressed with a simple tangy dressing and cornbread - summer in a nutshell. There is less of a recipe here, and more of a method and some tips and tricks I learned along the way. 

At the risk of creating the most boring Maggie's Market Guide to date, I thought I'd share my approach to fridge organization. In the last couple of months, in an effort to reduce food waste, I have taken on a new approach to sorting my food and it's working! Leftovers are getting eaten, produce is not languishing and it's been easier to look and see what's for dinner.

You broil or grill split eggplant unless soft and blackened. Then you scoop out the flesh and mix with olive oil, garlic, salt and parsley. Done. That's it! We ate it with feta cheese and a piece of salmon, but it would be a great addition to an appetizer spread or mixed into orzo pasta or smeared on toasted bread.

Sometimes when thinking about March recipes I am fully in spring-mode, ready for peas and asparagus, light soups and crisp salads. But all this rain and cold weather have me fully planted in late winter and I am craving braised cabbage, beans and greens, and long-cooked broccoli. All of these things take a little time, but the end result is worth the wait.

As I opened my cookbook just the other day (my collection of old print-outs, handwritten and stained pages, clippings from newspapers) I realized my go-to granola recipe was still the same one Lillie posted nearly 12 years ago. Many things have changed since then, but the successful formula has stayed the same.

When looking up a curd recipe I knew I had to go straight to the queen herself - Mary Berry, British baking legend and judge of my beloved GBBS. She did not disappoint, and her method was easier than others I had made. 

I was reading one of my favorite food blogs, looking for a chicken meatball soup recipe and she mentioned making her chicken stock from a leftover roasted chicken in the oven. This sounded easy and brilliant and just the life hack I have my eye out for these days.

Last week, I saw a stale loaf of bread on my counter and assessed what else I had in the kitchen to make dinner. Bread became croutons to top a winter squash and celery root soup. This soup is particularly easy since you roast all the vegetables in the oven first before simmering and blending. It was cozy, comforting, and belly warming - a perfect way to start the season.

This week, I made tomato cobbler which is basically exactly as delicious and seasonal and smile-inducing as it sounds. I even made it mid-week, after a full day in the garden, and it came together really quickly. 

To me, food cooked with love an intention is more than just a few tablespoons of this and a few cups of that. It's the stirring and the smelling, the slicing and the folding, the oven peaking - when all of these things done with intention, you really can taste the love.

I love to make slaw with whatever I have in the fridge, or whatever I'm influenced by. Much like my seasonal grain salads I have a rough recipe and adapt it around what'll be on the grill or what I'm in the mood for.

This recipe is easy. SO SO EASY. Do not be intimidated because it has yeast in it and it involves a rise. If you can make chocolate chip cookies you will excel at this. If you can mix flour and water with a spoon you will excel at this. This recipe manages to be super impressive, really really delicious and very little work. This last weekend I topped it with kalamata olives - it is also very adaptable!

The really amazing thing about this applesauce recipe, that comes from Zuni Cafe here in San Francisco, is that after peeling and coring the apples you just roast them. In their own juices. And that's it! It's so easy - no stovetop watching or food mills. Just an oven proof pan, a bit of butter, and a little time. And the smells this brought to my kitchen was an added bonus!

I learned a new way of making tomato sauce, under an arbor of wisteria and grape vines, in the outdoor farm kitchen. We washed tomato flat after tomato flat, cooking down some whole, and chopping others up. After a morning of processing we made 91 quarts of sauce and the next day I stepped in to the cellar, where the shelves were once again full of tomatoes.

Last weekend I made a simple corn and tomato salad, with things I had picked up at my produce market that week. It was deeply satisfying and full of summer flavors.

The recipe calls for eggplant, but suggests you can use zucchini or cauliflower, and it was so so good and the best way to use up some odds and ends. You basically cook eggplant (or zucchini, cauliflower or broccoli) until it softens, then add just enough stock to allow it to bubble away and fall apart so it becomes a savory pasta sauce

Most herbs thrive here in our summer dry climate, happy for the well draining soil and mild winters.

A great cook needs flexibility, and this is why menus at farm-to-table restaurants change so quickly. Cooks adapt their dishes based on what beautiful things they see at the market. By rigidly sticking to a recipe, you often overlook the sensory and intuitive aspects of cooking that make it more than just a simple combination of ingredients. 

For the longest time, I didn't bother to cook my own beans (and still often end up reaching for a can at times) despite people telling me how far superior home cooked beans are. I'm not great at planning meals ahead, and was always bound to have last minute plans come up the day after setting beans to soak on my counter. The notion that I had to remember to soak beans and then be sure I was home to cook them was more than I could deal with. And yet, everyone really was right. Home cooked beans are outrageously good.

Somehow through the magic of soup alchemy, a few veggies, chopped onion and herbs turn into something so deeply delicious. I sautéed onion, carrot and lots of spices, then added a head of cauliflower, water and broth. After just 10 minutes of prep my dinner was simmering on the stove and I was advocating for our programs to a funder. After 40 minutes or so, dinner was ready - warm and satisfying. Cheap and easy. It was the perfect weeknight meal, with lots of leftover for lunches.

I'm also craving my favorite smoothie. I'm not much of a juice person, or even a smoothie drinker (shocking for a Californian) but I often don't find them very satisfying. I don't love drinking that much sugar, I'd rather make a kale salad with my greens any day. But, my sister turned me onto this drink and I love it.

These cookies combine two holiday classics, chocolate and gingerbread, although I have never thought to put the two together. How is this possible? Why are we not adding chocolate ganache glazes to gingerbread bundt cakes, and why has it taken me so long in my life to realize this a most delicious combination? 

One of my favorite food bloggers posted this non-recipe that I would not have normally given a second thought, except  I was desperate for something quick and satisfying. The short ingredient list was truly underwhelming, until I realized it made me something so deeply satisfying. This is now my go-to quick lunch or dinner, perfect when you're sick or feel like you have nothing in the house to eat.

This plum torte needs little introduction. It was so popular that the NY Times ran it for years every September, and when they tried to stop, were met with angry protests. Not all desserts inspire such furious devotion, especially a humble cake such as this.

A friend of the garden, Caroline, dared me to eat eggplant every day on my trip, a challenge I gladly accepted. The eggplant in both countries was staggeringly good and it tasted like something, like its own beautiful eggplant flavor, rather than the bland sponge it is often relegated to here. There, the eggplant is king, treated with respect, coaxed from its shiny skin into super stardom. We ate it rolled around chunks of feta and lightly braised in tomato sauce. In Tel Aviv they would split it down the middle, leaving the stem in tact to hold it together, and drizzled with a nutty tahini sauce.

I love caprese salad in mid summer - so easy, incredibly seasonal and pairs well with nearly anything. While I could never tire of an in-season tomato, I mixed it up a few years ago with some friends and used ripe peaches instead. We served it with grilled lamb chops and a big green salad and it was perfect.

I heard something recently about the emotional memory wrapped up in smell, and how through cooking we can bring emotions to the table simply through scent (this was in a recent episode of the excellent Netflix documentary Chef's Table). For me, basil immediately jogs memories of summer - grilled corn, deep joy, and warm lazy breezes. Even as gloomy Bay Area summer is upon us, sniffing a fresh bunch of basil transports me away from thick fog to somewhere warmer where the pace is slower.