If you’re a coleslaw fan or have a jones for a crunchy salad, this recipe is for you.  Red cabbage is a nutrient-rich cruciferous vegetable.  Jicama is loaded with nutrients, including iron. Together they make a colorful pair. 

If you believe, as I do, that ancient ingredients have generally stood the test of time because they possess elements important for well-being, let me introduce you to chives, which have been used in recipes for about five thousand years. I’m so partial to chives that I grow them in my garden for both their wonderful flavor and the beautiful purple flowers the plant produces They’re members of the genus Allium, making them cousins to onions, garlic, shallots, and leeks. The sulfur in chives is believed to help the liver detoxify the body, but you won’t taste any of that sulfur in this drizzle. Instead, their volatile oils impart an almost sweet onion fragrance. This oil adds a bright, fresh-green pop to soups, salads, and fish. As for whether it also imparts the wisdom of the ancients, well, there’s only one way to find out.

Ah, the great divide. One on side, greens. On the other side, you. The chasm seems as wide as the Grand Canyon. It’s a gulf desperately in need of a bridge, especially for dark leafy greens—kale, chard, collards—which are arguably the greatest longevity foods out there, exploding with disease-fighting phytochemicals. And yet, these jade nutritional behemoths can be incredibly intimidating to work with. Where to start? I suggest thinking of greens as the perfect foundation for a variety of flavorprints. The only way you’re going to eat greens regularly is if they fly you around the world. Good thing they have their pilot’s license! By working with different spices and herbs, greens become like a local tourist guide to a host of cuisines. These dishes reach across the globe: Latin America, the Mediterranean, India, and the Orient . . . they are as versatile as a Renaissance man at a cocktail party. Learn to work with them and I promise that great divide will exist no more.

I knew I was on the right track with this soup when Catherine, my scrupulous recipe tester for the past seven years, wrote the following reaction to trying it: “Nothing to say but ‘swoooooooon.'’’ Now that’s what I call positive feedback! The trick with this soup is that after I cook it, I take half of it out of the pot and blend it, and back into the pot it goes. It’s an act of culinary prestidigitation: the blending will make you think there are three cartons of cream added to the soup, but ‘tis not the case. There are plenty of brain boosters in this soup, notably the spices; curcumin has been shown to fight depression, and may play a role in the production of brain-derived neurotrophic factors, genes that help with memory and learning and help brain neurons function and survive.

A frittata is an Italian omelet but, unlike the French version, you don’t have to figure out how to do that funky half-flip with the eggs in the pan. Frittatas bake, and in Italy they’re often eaten at room temperature: they really are a good on-the-go food. The eggs are also a great binder for the greens, which include kale, chard, and spinach. Add some red bell pepper, marjoram, thyme, and feta, and you’ve got a super protein hit for lunch on the go—just the thing to keep your brain working optimally throughout the day.

I’ll admit it took a couple of takes to get this recipe to Yum! Let’s just say I was little cavalier with the ancho chiles and chipotle the first time out: one taste, and I looked like a cartoon character with steam blowing out of my ears while a train whistle screams. I mean, even a dragon wouldn’t have gone there, it was that hot. But a little experimentation—and pulling back on the chiles a tad—turned this former five-alarmer into an amazingly heady, slightly smoky soup. This is brain-friendly all the way; the capsaicin in chile is renowned for stimulating blood flow and releasing stress-reducing hormones, with the sweet potatoes providing a kick of beta-carotene, perhaps the most potent antioxidant.

At restaurants, my dad didn’t see a set line where the salad bar ended and the soup bar began. He’d stride up, bowl in hand, and ladle away to his heart’s content. Other folks may have looked on aghast, but my dad was a real culinary alchemist; he knew which ingredients played well together. This soup pays homage to his wizardry.

A staple of Latin cuisine, this black bean soup rocks because it’s a nutritional powerhouse. Black beans are rich in protein and dietary fiber, and recent studies link black bean consumption to reduced rates of pancreatic, breast, and prostate cancers.

Most chicken stews are made with a heavy hand; the result is the feeling that you’ve just consumed dinner for four. My nana knew a better way. This is a much lighter chicken stew, coming in on the gravitational scale somewhere between chicken soup and roast chicken. What makes this dish is both the traditional ingredients and the fact that it simmers as long as a senate filibuster. A little patience pays off in a bountiful stew.

As a cook, you never stop learning. I was doing a cooking demo one day in a tiny town in West Marin across from Toby’s Feed Barn. As I was prepping and peeling the squash, an extremely seasoned farmer with a weathered face came up to me. He was the kind of guy who normally wouldn’t talk even if he were on fire. But what I was doing truly had him flummoxed. He looked at my peeler, smacked his lips in thought, and said, “Y’know, you don’t have to peel ’em.” He might as well have said it’s okay to drive naked. I told him I’d been peeling them forever. “Nooooo,” he moaned, at what was obviously food blasphemy in his book. “The skin is good—tender. Stop peeling!” It turns out he was right: the skin does indeed taste fine, and once it’s cooked, it isn’t tough. Squash has excellent anti-inflammatory and immune-boosting nutrients, along with a huge kick of vitamin A. In this incarnation, it also has wonderful sweetness, thanks to the roasting and the addition of orange zest and maple syrup.

Like Penn and Teller, opposites often attract—and create magic. So it is here. At first glance, Swiss chard and butternut squash appear to be poles apart, yet they melt into each others arms in a way that enraptures the senses. The sweetness of roasted butternut squash is the perfect foil for chard’s tartness, and cranberries and orange zest do a similar tango to heighten the appeal. Visually, the tart is a stunner; topped with walnuts and studded with cranberries and feta, it looks like a still life waiting for the right artiste to saunter by. Chard is also a longevity superstar, full of antioxidants and boasting phytonutrients linked to blood sugar regulation, heart health, and improved detoxification. Note that you’ll need a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom for this recipe.

Corn has gotten a bad rap lately, and that’s a shame. It’s true that adulterated versions, from high-fructose corn syrup to corn oil, are downright unhealthy. But freshly shucked corn is amazingly rich in phytonutrients, and in flavor. Believe me, I know good corn. There used to be huge cornfields within walking distance of my childhood home. I vividly remember coming home with a bushel of summer corn, planting myself outside our back door, and ripping away the husks with glee. Flash forward just a wee bit and now I have my Gen Y kitchen angels Jen and Katie out on my back porch, sipping lemonade and giggling over how they’re knee-deep in husks. In this soup, shaved corncobs make for an outrageous broth, and the whazzed-up kernels create a richness that lets the honey-like flavor linger on the tongue like a slow sunset. If you could put summer in a pot, this would be it.

This recipe was featured in the Weekly Yum, on Stirring the Pot radio. Cookbook author and culinary translator, Rebecca Katz joins the conversation with Stefanie Sacks to deconstruct Summer Berry-Coconut Milk Ice Pops from Vibrant Food by Kimberley Hasselbrink. Sacks and Katz lure you into the kitchen to create meals that enhance your health and well being while caressing your tastebuds. Nutritious always meets delicious on the Weekly Yum.

This recipe was featured in the Weekly Yum, on Stirring the Pot radio.  Cookbook author and culinary translator, Rebecca Katz joins the conversation with Stefanie Sacks to deconstruct Romanesco Summer Salad from Brassicas by Laura B. Russell. Sacks and Katz lure you into the kitchen to create meals that enhance your health and well being while caressing your tastebuds. Nutritious always meets delicious on the Weekly Yum.

Roasting strawberries reminds me of Carly Simon’s song “Anticipation.” When you can take your time in the kitchen—or at least wait awhile for something to cook—magic happens. When you roast strawberries sloooooowly—I’m talking for 90 minutes—the alchemy that occurs is wondrous. Their flavors become so condensed and intense as they shrink. In this recipe, the strawberries are bathed in pomegranate molasses and maple syrup before roasting, for even more flavor. The last step, post-roast, is a mouth-blast of basil (a super anti-inflammatory).

This dressing lends a light, refreshing flavor to all manner of foods. Since it could hardly be easier to make, I recommend keeping some on hand at all times. I know I do.

When Hippocrates said “Let food be thy medicine, and medicine be thy food,” there’s little doubt in my mind that he was referring to foods drawn from the brassica family. Ounce-for-ounce, brassicas contain more healing properties than any other branch of food.

This healing concoction of sweet potato comfort. I crave sweet potatoes, which aren’t really potatoes at all but rather an edible root from the morning glory family. Enzymes in the root convert starch into sweetness as it grows, yet the root still retains plenty of nutrition, including vitamin B6 and potassium.

One day my friend, Mat, was reminiscing to his mom, Clair, about an ice cream store he worked at while in college. “I told her that I got so sick of ice cream that for two years after I quit I couldn’t go near it.” At which point Clair mentioned that as a girl she worked for years at the chocolate counter at Gimbel’s, one of New York’s famous retailers. Gimbel’s let you eat as much chocolate as you liked on the job, so long as you didn’t take any home. “I asked Mom if she ever got sick of chocolate. She just looked at me like I was nuts and said, ‘Why would I?’” Which brings us to these little morsels. For chocolate aficionados, nothing provides a better fix than a truffle. My friend Wendy, an incredible chocolatier, designed these confections from a scrumptious mélange of chocolate, dates, orange zest, and ground nuts, all rolled in coconut. I could tell you that the reason to eat these is because they’re high in protein and phytochemicals, but how ’bout we just call that a nice side benefit of yum! Since you’re going to indulge in a chocolate dessert, be sure to make it the best by using high-quality chocolate.

Conquering this recipe reminded me of Charlie Brown’s travails with Lucy and that football. There would be Lucy, pleading with Charlie to take one more shot at kicking the football and promising she wasn’t going to mess with him anymore—and always pulling away the ball at the last moment. The Brussels sprouts in this recipe played Lucy to my Charlie. They teased me with their offerings of wellness—especially a compound shown to keep DNA from fragmenting during cell reproduction—but they kept refusing to play nice with every taste companion I threw their way. I was about to walk away for good when an email arrived from a friend who knew about my frustrations. She sent along a picture of a beautiful Brussels sprout stalk in her garden, with the small sprouts dotting the stalk, along with a caption that said, “Please give us another chance! We’ll be good!’ So I said, “Okay. One. Last. Chance.” And whaddya know? I finally achieved success. Roasting was the key, creating a golden-brown, sweet-tasting, crunchy treat.