If this fragrant, sensuous soup doesn't say Cold Weather Comfort to you, then I don't know what will. It has what it takes to melt your winter weather woes away, with wafts of ginger and garlic, a thick vegetal sludginess and the ubiquitous warmth of Indian spice. This soup cooks up in under an hour, boiling into a real Happy Meal while you do something else. With a few deft strokes of your knife, you can tackle the prep, set it a-simmering and wait for the magic to happen. Soup making is one of the best examples of kitchen alchemy, conjuring archetypal images of boiling cauldrons on an open hearth delivering sustenance and satisfaction. Various and sundry items go in to the pot; a soft, tender, savoury mass emerges later, perfuming the home with tantalizing aromas, seducing us to the table to enjoy the product of our efforts.

Make magic in your kitchen:

Curried Butternut Squash Soup

2 pounds butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 2-inch chunks, equalling about 7 cups; 1 tbsp. olive oil; 1 leek, white and light green parts only, washed well and sliced thinly; 1/4 cup thinly sliced celery; 1/2 cup peeled, diced carrots; 2 tsp. minced fresh garlic; 2 tsp. freshly grated ginger; 1 bay leaf; 1/2 cup finely chopped shallots; 5 cups chicken broth, vegetable broth or water; 1 tsp. kosher salt; 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper; 1 tsp. garam masala; juice of 1 lemon; 1 tbsp. honey; Greek yogurt for garnish (optional).

Over medium heat in a medium sized pot, warm the olive oil and add the leeks, celery, carrots and shallots. Saute, stirring, until softened and the vegetables start to brown, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and ginger and cook just until fragrant, 1 -2 minutes, stirring. Add in the broth, bay leaf, salt and pepper and squash and bring the mixture to a boil. Lower heat and cover the pot, maintaining a gentle boil and cook until the squash is completely tender and falling apart, about 45 minutes. Remove the bay leaf and add in the garam masala, lemon juice and honey and puree soup with an immersion blender. You may want to thin it with extra broth if it is too thick. Serve with a dollop of Greek yogurt. Serves 4 - 6.

Some variations worth mentioning: Substitute a can of light coconut milk for some of the broth. The silky smooth richness and creamy taste will complement the robust squash and the spices. You can also kick up the heat with some cayenne pepper or hot sauce to suit your mood. I have also enjoyed a splash of orange juice in place of some of the liquid in this recipe, for a pleasant fruity note that also brings with it more beautiful colour. You may like the idea of a dash of cinnamon and grated nutmeg too, for more depth and a way to accent the sweet undertones of the squash. Some would say that sage has a place in this soup and I would agree, including a couple of leaves in the simmering soup and removing them before pureeing.

Some people shy away from making soup, imagining it to be an enormous ordeal. How much work is it to cut up some veg and cook it? Chop and boil, basically, sums it up here. No skimming of "scum" (yuck!), no bones (double yuck), no fuss. Easy peasy.

Homemade soup on a cold day equals happiness and health. It's the best sort of magic I know.

Ancient grains make for hearty, healthy, interesting fare and this cookbook is loaded with a spectrum of colourful ideas for creating wholesome, appealing meals using them to their full advantage.

I fell in love with the ancient grain farro in Tuscany a few years ago and welcome ways of incorporating it into meals, from soups to salads to pilafs. Maria Speck's Ancient Grains Modern Meals showcases farro with honey roasted grapes, or in a stew of fire-roasted tomatoes and eggplant. I am also drawn to a riff on summer tabouli made with farro instead of bulghur wheat, more toothsome and rustic, a satisfying vegetarian meal replete with whole grains, vegetables and even some tangy feta if you so choose.

After I finished drooling over the farro recipes, I browsed some more and fell hard for the quinoa and barley offerings in Speck's beautiful book. I come to quinoa a bit late in the game, only just getting into it, enjoying pairing it with hot peppers, sweet fruit and fresh vegetables, frequently all at the same time. What think you of cumin-scented quinoa with red beets? Or lemon quinoa with currants, dill and zucchini? These are combinations that will thrill and delight you all winter long, offering comfort and health, which essentially equals well-being.

Barley makes a memorable appearance with figs and a grown-up tarragon-lemon dressing. It is also featured in a stew with lentils, mushrooms and dill, classic, timeless, but with the added surprise of fresh apples thrown into the mix. This is a book of innovation and inspiration, new ways of using ancient grains to nourish you and entertain simultaneously.

I am happy to report that meat does make an appearance as well, lamb burgers with bulgur and mint, exploiting the time-honoured flavours of Turkey with cumin and Aleppo pepper, plus the kick of garlic-spiked yogurt. For the perfect pantry-based concoction, when hunger strikes and your imagination wanes, try spicy spaghetti with carmelized onions, anchovies and tuna, all ingredients commonly kept as staples in our kitchens. No fancy wizardry here, just well thought out solutions to dinner dilemnas, presented with flair and love.

Barley Salad with Figs and Tarragon-Lemon Dressing from Ancient Grains for Modern Meals

Barley: 2 cups water; 3/4 cup pearl barley; 1 2"x1" strip lemon zest; 3 peppercorns; pinch of fine sea salt.

Salad: 1 lemon; 1/4 cup chopped dried figs; 2 stalks celery, halved lengthwise and cut into 1/4" pieces, about 1 cup; 1/2 cup finely chopped green onions, white and light green parts (about 4); 1/2 cup chopped tangy apple (Granny Smith is a good choice); 2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil; 3 tsp. honey; 1/4 tsp. fine sea salt; 1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper; 2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh tarragon (use any herb you like if tarragon is not available; I think dill or thyme would be lovely here); 2 tbsp. finely chopped flat-leaf parsley.

To prepare barley, bring water, barley, zest, peppercorns and salt to a boil in a medium sized saucepan. Decrease heat to maintain a simmer, cover and cook until barley is tender but still slightly chewy, 30 to 40 minutes. Remove from the heat and let sit, covered, for 5 - 10 minutes. Drain remaining liquid and transfer barley to large serving bowl to cool. Remove zest and peppercorns.

To prepare the salad, finely grate zest of the lemon until you have 2 tsp. Cut lemon in half and squeeze to get 2 tbsp. juice. Place dried figs in a small bowl and stir in 1 tbsp. of lemon juice. Set aside. Add the celery, green onions and apple to the serving bowl with the barley.

In a small bowl, whisk together olive oil, remaining 1 tbsp. lemon juice, zest and honey. Season with salt and pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning to suit you. Stir in half of the tarragaon and half of the parsely.

To finish, add the plumped figs with any juices to the barley mixture and drizzle on the dressing. Mix to combine. Allow to sit at room temperature for 15 minutes. Toss again, sprinkle with remaining herbs, and serve.

Serves 4.

It is rare to find a book that sings out to me with page after page of beautiful, inspired creations that I must rush off and produce. Often, a cookbook will offer merely a recipe or two that appeals to me, but not so here. I find myself wrapped up in each and every dish, imagining it on my table, wishing it into existence. This is a book to embrace on a daily basis.

Other cookbooks I cannot live without? Here are some of my favourites:

Moosewood taught me to love cooking, back in the hippy days of my past, where I was seduced by the intoxicating flavours of the world so thoughtfully presented here. I still follow Katzen's directions for guacamole, hummus and babaganouj:

Everyone has recipes, but these are the BEST recipes, where the editors have made all the mistakes in their test kitchens to save you making those mistakes in yours. You could spend the rest of your life cooking from the international recipes and never be at a loss for a great meal:

Italian food is a staple in my diet, food I must have, often. Lidia Bastianich has it figured out, just the way I like it, authentic, real, simple, wonderful. I could cook from this book every day of my life and never grow tired of these timeless dishes:

What's for dessert? There has to be something, right? Life is short and it should also be sweet. So, make sure your sweet eating is great. Everything in this book is excellent, worthy of your time and worth the calories!

Swiss chard is here, my garden teeming with it in rainbow hues. Given my quinoa-centric state of mind, what better pairing can I dream up than the two together? It works!! A gentle saute of sliced chard stalks, plus the chopped leaves and lots of garlic make for an ideal quinoa partner, the grain being a blank canvas to which one can riff in many ways. Swiss chard also speaks to me of raisins and pine nuts, so they make an appearance here too, a warm side dish, a cooled down salad, a leftover to bring to work for lunch.

Let's start by cooking the quinoa. You can boil it like pasta in salted water and drain it when it blooms and softens, a little tail, the germ, emerging from each grain. Place the drained quinoa back into the cooking pot, cover with a clean tea towel and let it sit for 5 minutes. Fluff and serve. Another method for cooking quinoa is to cook one part quinoa to two parts water, covered, for 12 - 15 minutes, until done. Fluff, cover, let sit for 5 minutes, and serve. Both methods work well, so prepare your quinoa according to your preference.

When cooked quinoa is destined for a salad, it is a good idea to dry it out so that the grains remain separate. Thanks to Bob's Red Mill Cookbook for this important pointer. Spread your cooked quinoa onto a baking sheet to cool and dry. You can store cooked quinoa in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 5 days.

Now for the fun, where inspiration, flavour and texture arrive on the scene. Take a large bunch of Swiss chard, rainbow coloured, if possible. Wash the stalks and leaves and pat them dry delicately. It is OK if some water clings to the chard. Snip off the leaves and chop them coarsely. Set aside. Slice the stalks thinly. In a large pan, warm two teaspoons of olive oil and saute the sliced stalks until beginning to soften, about 10 minutes. Add in the chopped chard leaves and 2 - 3 plump cloves of crushed garlic. Cook until softened, tender and fragrant. The Swiss chard will have wilted and cooked down to a mere skeleton of its former, bulky self. Season with salt and pepper and a few gratings of whole nutmeg. Let the chard cool and add it to the cooked quinoa along with a handful of golden raisins and another handful of toasted pine nuts. You may want to dress the salad lightly with a lemony vinaigrette, or just some fruity olive oil and a splash of fresh lemon juice. Finish the salad off with a flourish of fresh herbs, whatever is fresh and abundant in your garden or market. Mint is awfully nice here as is Italian parsley or chives. If you cannot decide on one herb, use a combination. There is no right or wrong here, just the desires of your palate to follow.

Enjoy this delightful creation as a light lunch with a bowl of soup, with some flatbreads and cheese, or as a side to some protein. It keeps very well in the fridge for few days and will nourish your mind and body with its healthful goodness.

Can't get enough of quinoa? Read on:

I think of this salsa as Mexico in a bowl, the profound culinary flavours of the country embodied here in bursts of sharp purple onion, sweet vine-ripened tomatoes, the tangy jolt of lime juice, spicy peppers with a big kick and the floral flourish of cilantro. It is the cohabitation of these elements that really speaks deeply of Mexican tastes, the flavours I crave when I think of sun-drenched, colourful foods from that sun-drenched, colourful country.

Some salsas are cooked, deep and dark, smooth and savoury. This is a fresh salsa, chunky and robust, with nothing gentle or delicate about it. It is best eaten soon after it is prepared, where the sparkle of ingredients remains bright and inviting. Think of this salsa as more of a salad, a condiment, than a sauce, though it is intensely wonderful liberally spooned over grilled chicken in a sauce-like manner. I enjoy this salsa as a juicy side to fried eggs or a simmering bowl of hot polenta. It is great with BBQ salmon, stuffed into corn tortillas, on nachos or slathered on a juicy steak. When your mouth needs a journey to somewhere tantalizingly spicy, take it to this tomato-laden condiment for a dose of Mexican fun. You will never want to eat grocery store salsa again after a fling with this flavourful, flirty dish.

Fresh Tomato Salsa

4 ripe tomatoes, diced; 1-2 jalapeno peppers, depending on how hot you like things, seeds and ribs removed, diced; 1/4 cup diced Spanish onion; 2 cloves garlic, crushed; 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro; juice of 1/2 a lime; pinch of powdered cumin, optional; salt and pepper to taste; pinch of sugar.

In a medium bowl, combine tomatoes, jalapenos and onion. Add in crushed garlic, lime juice, cumin, salt, pepper and sugar. Mix and taste. Adjust seasoning if needed. Best eaten immediately, as the tomatoes start to leech liquid if left too long. If this does happen, simply drain off the water, stir the salsa and serve. It will still taste great for a few hours.

Enjoy the harvest of summer with salsa and more market fresh foods:

This is what you start with, a vegetable Barbie would like, pretty in its flourescent pink jacket.

And, this is what you get after a good, long simmer in a bath of tomatoes and spices, tender, creamy comfort, stripped of its pink hue but hearty and charming in its own rustic way.

It is quite wonderful how plump and tender these fresh beans are, much different than dried beans, with a softness and sweetness that is deeply endearing. The season for these cranberry beans is short, so I buy them whenever and wherever I find them, adding them to soups, simmering them into fragrant Mediterranean themed stews scented with garlic and fresh thyme. I never tire of their endless charms. You could call me a cranberry bean freak, for the two weeks of the year they are available. I mourn their loss briefly and then quickly become enamoured with other market goods - bright, meaty tomatoes, crisp new crop apples, delicate purple Italian plums for kuchen and jam. That's the good part of falling in love at the produce stand - you can be fickle and change your allegiances every few weeks.

But this week was cranberry bean week and I enlisted my husband to sit at the table with me and shell my bag of beans. Soon enough, my large bag was reduced to the contents of the pods, a few cups of mottled fuscia beans ready for some heat. First task: boil about 3 cups of these babies with a bay leaf and a whole head of garlic. No salt, as it toughens uncooked beans. As the pot simmered, I went to the garden for some sage, foraging 8 large, velvety leaves for the next step in this process. I opened a large can of diced tomatoes and sliced lots more garlic, readying for the cooked beans and what they would do next. When the beans had morphed into gentle tenderness, I reserved a cup of their cooking liquid and drained them, reserving the garlic head, discarding the bay leaf. In a medium sized pot, I warmed up some olive oil and sauteed the sliced garlic, 5 healthy cloves of it, just until aromatic. I added in the cooked beans and their reserved liquid, as well as the tomatoes and their liquid, plus another bay leaf, my garden sage, chopped, and some salt and pepper. I took the whole head of garlic I just rescued from the cooking beans and squeezed out the soft paste inside each papery clove. Mashed it with a knife and added this highly flavoured goodness into the pot of stewing beans. The goal at this stage is to cook down the tomatoes and let them nestle into a soft blanket that surrounds the beans, a thick and savoury sauce. This takes about 25 minutes during which the beans take on loads of flavour. I like to finish off the dish with a long squirt of fresh lemon juice as well as the lemon's finely grated zest, a tart surprise that gets some attention from your tongue. A handful of tiny little fresh thyme leaves works wonder here too, complimenting every element you have included, the sunny lemon scent, the aromatic cooked tomatoes, the generous dose of garlic and the tender beans.

I serve this bean stew as an accompaniment to fried eggs and corn tortillas, next to grilled chicken breasts, on a plate with smoky ribs and crunchy cole slaw. For the brief time the beans are available, this dish is an everyday comfort food. Shelled beans freeze well as does the cooked stew, so make a pilgrimage to your local farmers' market and treat yourself to a seasonal specialty you will fall in love with every summer.

Who knew beans could be so wonderful?