My parents never made stuffed vegetables when I was growing up.

Now I know why.

Some people like their veggies filled with rice, ground meat, and onions – maybe even a little crunchy topping – but this does nothing for me, especially when the stuffed vegetable in question is a pepper. I think it comes down to two things: seasoning the pepper itself (it usually isn’t), and its texture after being roasted twice (or parboiled and roasted).

The filling may be tasty, but the pepper remains bland. I have yet to find a recipe that asks for it to be seasoned. (Any leads on this phantom recipe are welcome.) Additionally, cooking the pepper twice – once to make sure it finishes “tender,” and a second time with the filling inside – leaves it flaccid.

The only possible redeeming factor in this sad, sad dinner was a balanced, well-seasoned stuffing: and unfortunately, the one I used from saveur.com was lackluster. (You can find the recipe here, anyway.)

Thankfully, the squash turned out much better – probably because its firm, thick flesh naturally lent itself to roasting. Here’s our acorn squash, post-roast:

More adventures in stuffing to come in the future…

This preparation of Chioggia beets was nothing special, but colors just looked so vibrant that I had to post these photos.

After scrubbing the beets and tossing them with a little olive oil, I put them in a baking pan, covered them with foil, and roasted them for about 45 minutes at 400°F.

While they were roasting, I rinsed the beet greens, removed their center ribs, and chopped them into rough pieces. I sautéed them in olive oil with garlic and a little salt, then added a couple spoonfuls of water and covered the sauté pan to steam the greens through for a bit, turning down the heat to low. It only took a few minutes for them to be cooked through.

When the beets had finished roasting, I let them cool for 15 minutes, then carefully slid off their skins (with the help of a paper towel). The beets were sliced, tossed with a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and ready to eat.

If you’re not a fan of the characteristic earthy taste of beets, you’ll find the Chioggia variety much easier on your taste buds. Not only do these have a milder flavor, they’re also sweeter than the average beet. They don’t “bleed” nearly as much when cut. Plus, their concentric red and white rings make for great eye candy.

My mom’s backyard basil has been getting a little out of control. It’s doing so well that she has way more than she can possibly use for her and my dad (who isn’t too crazy about basil to begin with). So, on her last visit to Habanero and me, she bequeathed a generous portion of the herb – already cleaned and dried! – along with some pignoli nuts, and a recommendation to try Heidi Swanson’s recipe for “How to Make Pesto like an Italian Grandmother.”

The recipe is so simple, and has a wonderful homemade touch to it – no food processors required. This also gives the final product a sort of rustic texture, with some slightly larger pieces of pignoli nuts and garlic interspersed in the aromatic paste. I think even a Chinese grandmother would approve of this.

Basil Pesto, in the style of a true Italian Grandmother

from Heidi Swanson, www.101cookbooks.com

• 1 large bunch of basil, leaves only, washed and dried
• 3 medium cloves of garlic
• one small handful of raw pine nuts
• roughly ¾ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, loosely packed
• A few tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil

• Special equipment (optional): large mezzaluna for chopping (I used a chef’s knife, which worked just fine)

Start chopping the garlic with about one third of the basil leaves. Once this is loosely chopped, add more basil and chop some more, then add the rest of the basil and continue chopping until the basil and garlic are a very fine mince.

Add about half the pine nuts and chop. Repeat with the rest of the pine nuts.

Add half of the Parmesan and chop. Repeat with the rest of the Parmesan.

Finely chop the ingredients until they hold together when pressed into a basil “cake”. Transfer this pesto “cake” to a small bowl (not much bigger than the cake). Cover with a few tablespoons of olive oil, enough to cover the entire surface of the “cake”.

The pesto is best if used immediately, but it can also be stored in the refrigerator. Just before serving, give the pesto a quick stir to incorporate some of the oil into the basil. If using on pasta, you might want to dilute the pesto with a bit of pasta water to help it cover all the pasta.

Makes about 1 cup.

Finally, a photo of this amazing salsa – unlike last time. I almost forgot to take a picture again: Habanero and I were too busy scooping chipfuls of this smoky and savory dip into our mouths. Clean and cool lime and cilantro balanced the warmth of the chipotle and adobo, keeping us coming back for more.

Unfortunately, I didn’t use plum tomatoes (as recommended in the recipe), so it was necessary to strain some excess water from the final product. I didn’t want to cut corners this way, but I had a tomato from the previous week’s CSA share that was dying to be used (literally). It wasn’t quite worth it, though: definitely stick with the plum tomatoes!

Something else we discovered in this salsa revisit was the Garden of Eatin’s Organic Yellow Corn Chips. I’d bought them because they were on sale, and I was pleasantly surprised by almost everything about them: their realistic bite size (not ridiculously super-sized and cumbersome to bite into); their lightly-salted, clean corn flavor; their crisp texture which held even when left for several minutes in salsa (while I was taking the above photograph). These chips definitely kicked the salsa eating experience up a notch or two.

Tomato Chile Salsa

an epicurious.com recipe

• Olive oil for greasing
• 1½ lb plum tomatoes (about 6 large)
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 tablespoon chopped canned chipotle chiles in adobo, plus 2 teaspoons sauce from can
• 1 (2½-inch) fresh jalapeño, seeded and remainder chopped (1 tablespoon)
• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
• ¾ teaspoon salt
• ¼ teaspoon black pepper
• ½ cup chopped fresh cilantro

Preheat broiler.

Oil a 13- by 9-inch roasting pan (not glass). Halve tomatoes lengthwise, then arrange, cut sides up, in roasting pan. Sprinkle onion over and around tomatoes and broil 4 to 5 inches from heat until tomatoes and onion begin to brown, 25 to 30 minutes.

Cool to room temperature, about 30 minutes.

Transfer tomatoes, onion, and any juices in pan to a food processor and add chipotles with sauce, jalapeño, lime juice, salt, and pepper. Pulse until vegetables are finely chopped.

Transfer to a bowl and stir in cilantro. Season with salt.

Salsa keeps, covered and chilled, up to 3 days. Do not add cilantro until ready to serve. Bring to room temperature before serving.

This recipe is a sweeter take on grilled marinated summer vegetables, thanks to the brown sugar in the dressing – a sort of Americanization of this humble dish. It tastes good, with the molasses (from the sugar) rounding out the vinegar, but don’t expect the garlicky zip of an authentic Italian preparation.

Grilled Zucchini and Pepper Salad

based on an epicurious.com recipe

• 1½ pounds zucchini, cut lengthwise into ¼-inch-thick slices
• 2 red bell peppers
• ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided
• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 2 teaspoons packed light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons chopped basil

(The original recipe calls for grilling the zucchini and peppers. I’ve amended it for those without access to either a grill or a grill pan.)

Place peppers directly above a medium-flame burner and cook, turning frequently, until burned on all sides. Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap for 10-15 minutes. Peel peppers and remove seeds, then cut into 1-inch pieces.

Toss zucchini with 2 tablespoons oil, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper. Broil, turning occasionally, until tender, 6 to 8 minutes total. Cut zucchini crosswise into 1-inch pieces.

Whisk together vinegar, brown sugar, ¼ teaspoon salt, 1/8 teaspoon pepper, and remaining 2 tablespoons oil in a large bowl. Stir in vegetables and basil. Let stand 15 minutes for flavors to blend.