It's summer time and the living is easy. Someone said that once. It makes sense to me. It's time to bask in the kaleidoscope of colours at the produce stands. And then time to come home and put together something to eat that is fresh and fast. I did just that. The blueberries were plump and tempting, a perfect mango beckoned with its heady perfume, firm stalks of corn awaited discovery. Long, thin beans, bold peppers, slim green onions, I found them all today and made this bright delight to enjoy with some grilled wild salmon.

Let's start with the quinoa and what one does with it. There are different techniques for cooking quinoa and I am going with this one from trusty Saveur magazine.

How to Cook Quinoa Perfectly
adapted from www.saveur.com

1 cup quinoa, rinsed well and drained; 1 tsp. salt

In a 4-litre pot, bring 6 cups of water and 1 tsp. salt to a boil. Add quinoa and simmer 12-15 minutes until tender and grains have bloomed. Remove from heat and drain quinoa in a fine mesh sieve. Set sieve back over empty pot, cover with a clean kitchen towel, and let rest 15 minutes. Serves 4 people.

Quinoa Salad

Next, if you would like to construct a summer salad, you need some vegetables. I used about a cup and a half each of fresh green beans, cut into small pieces, cherry tomatoes, quartered and fresh corn kernals. I cooked the green beans and the corn until tender and drained them well. Tossed them into the bowl of quinoa I had waiting on the side along with the tomatoes, seeds pressed out lightly, by the way. I toasted a cup of sliced almonds and included them in my creation along with about 6 green onions, sliced into small rounds and two jalapenos, diced, for a hit of heat. Fruit and quinoa get along beautifully and I was after some big time colour, so in went a mango, diced and about 3/4 cup of fresh blueberries. I made a simple dressing with almond oil, fresh lemon juice and the zest of that same lemon, adding salt and pepper, a bit of cayenne and a pinch of raw sugar to taste. The only thing missing was a big handful of fresh herbs from my garden, mint, chives and oregano, adding lush freshness and speckles of green.

My quinoa creation was a perky foil for the rich, delicate meat of the wild salmon, cutting the density of the fish with bursts of fruit and a friendly jolt of peppery heat. It is a salad I will play with and adapt all summer long, as the fruit season delivers its wares. I am looking forward to tender, young zucchini, diced and gently cooked. Corn will continue to appear and will get better as the summer progresses, as will peppers and beans. Parsley and dill, cilantro and thyme, all will play roles.

Keep your summer meals easy and fresh:

The marriage of grains and vegetables allows for much textural interest and the gustatory interplay of flavours. When tomatoes, corn and roasted peppers are set against a palette of chewy, plump Israeli couscous, they become even more alluring than when featured solo. Perhaps the contrast of the grainy orbs to the juicy tomatoes is what works here, or could it be the starch in the pasta that sponges up the moisture from the chopped veg? Whatever the case, we have a most memorable dish on the menu.

Start off by toasting the Israeli couscous, adding a tablespoon of olive oil to a pot and browning 2 cups of Israeli couscous in it, over medium heat, stirring. The couscous will take on a deep golden hue and a toasty bite after cooking. Add in 2+1/4 cups of boiling water and a half a teaspoon of salt. Stir and let everything bubble away. When the couscous is almost tender, add in about 2 cups of corn kernals, either fresh or frozen. The brief cooking time left will soften the kernals, finish the couscous and give you a structure from which to add more details.

Taste the couscous when the water has evarporated to make sure it is tender. If it needs a few more minutes of cooking and the pot is dry, add a few spoonfuls of water and let the pot simmer a bit longer.

Now for the add-ins: I like the juiciness of fresh, chopped tomatoes and the full-bodied aroma of roasted peppers, cut into dice. You need something green and my go-to choice is fresh herbs. I had chives; I used chives. Some kind of nut is always welcome around here, so in went some toasted slivered almonds. The acerbic bite of onion rounds off flavours well, so chop up some sweet onion or shallots and include them in your creation. And that, my friends, is the whole story.

Now you may add in your seasonings. A splash of extra virgin olive oil makes good sense as does the grated zest and juice of a lemon. Salt and pepper should be added to suit your taste. Garlic almost always plays a supporting role in my salads, so why not use some here? Yes, it really works wonders, adding bite and sharpness and depth from a few cloves of a humble, common bulb. This salad keeps for a few days in the fridge and made for some easy, light lunches as well as solid side dishes for dinner with some butternut squash soup (more on that another day).

Israeli couscous, with its adorable orbs of toothsome texture, will add some substance to your selection of salads. Of course, it is also excellent served hot, as the cooked pasta that it is. Because I am part of an Italian family, pasta salads are not really anyone's top choice in my home, as we like our pasta piping hot and served immediately if not sooner. But I make an exception for Israeli couscous because it is so pleasantly enjoyable to eat and keep. No sticky, gummy, dried out cold pasta going on here, but tender little tidbits of grain-like noodles to incorporate into your marinated vegetable and herb concoctions. Merge cooked Israeli couscous with fresh summer vegetables for a fine marriage.

Find more fun recipes for your vegetables with these books:

Word is out that authentic guacamole does not, in fact, contain garlic. Who knew? My chunky version usually does feature a clove or two but I am keen to simplify the flavours and let the lime and jalapenos sing out more. Garlic fiend that I am, even I will agree that it can overpower.

My epiphany was prompted by the food blog Amateur Gourmet's story about authentic guacamole. Apparently the blogger has a friend Mark from New Mexico and Mark says he knows about guacamole. That's authoritative enough for me! Whoever Mark is, his advice is to use these and only these ingredients: avocados, lime juice, jalapenos, tomatoes, cilantro and salt and pepper. So, not only no garlic, but no chile powder or cumin either. I am known in some circles for my garlic/chile/cumin-laden gaucamole and my friends and family will be in for a change next time I dish this out. With the velvety rich delivery system of mashed avocado, I want to emphasize it and bring it to life with its long-standing friends lime, jalapenos and cilantro. It seems like a well-advised plan.

Mark's Authentic Guacamole adapted from www.amateurgourmet.com
Serves 4 to 6

4 to 6 ripe Haas avocados (they should have mostly brown skin); 1 small red onion, chopped; 1 small tomato, diced; 1 large jalapeño, stemmed and seeded and finely diced; 1/4 cup chopped cilantro, plus more for garnish; Juice from 1 lime, plus more as necessary; Salt, to taste; Tortilla chips (for serving).

Slice your avocados in half vertically, circling your knife around the pit. Separate the two halves and then smack your knife into the hard pit (this is the best way to remove it.) Use a paper towel or a dish towel to yank it off your knife (it's a good way to cut yourself, otherwise.) Use a spoon to cleanly scoop the avocado flesh into a large bowl. Repeat with the rest of the avocados.

Add the rest of the ingredients to the bowl and begin to mash it all together with a fork. The most essential part is that you break down the avocados into a pulp, working the jalapeno, onion and cilantro into the mass as you do so. You'll know your done when there are no hard bits of avocado remaining.

Taste and adjust for salt and lime juice. When it's delicious, sprinkle some more cilantro to garnish and serve with a big bag of sturdy, high-quality tortilla chips for scooping. Great with icy beer.

And with tacos!

Tomatoes before oven treatment:

After oven treatment:

I never thought I would admit this, but the words "shriveled" and "shrunken" appeal to me. In a tomato kind of way. When a sweet, ripe, meaty tomato takes some serious heat in an oven and comes away greatly reduced. With its essence concentrated in the shrunken flesh, and all the moisture evaporated, the whithered tomato becomes even more of itself. It's an oxymoron.

Decent tomatoes are starting to appear in markets and grocery stores and I am ready with my arsenal of tools: a roasting pan, fresh garlic, olive oil and thyme from the garden. I start with a fragrant Roma tomato and cut it into eighths. It then gets a bath in a glug of good, fruity olive oil, as well as a toss with chopped garlic, sprigs of thyme and salt and pepper to taste. It's already tasting good. Tomatoes like a hot oven, so don't be shy to crank yours to 425 F. Watch those babies darken and shrink. Give them a toss every 15 minutes or so to let the caramelization occur evenly and to prevent sticking. I say 45 minutes or so in the oven should render your tomatoes tender and soft, ready for the next stage in their lives.

Those of you who are fussy about tomato skins have a couple of options. You could peel the tomatoes before roasting by quickly immersing them in boiling water and then removing the skin. I do this though: I let them roast and cool and then quickly and easily pick off the pieces of shrivelled skin with my fingers.

You are now the proud owner of a pan of intensely aromatic roasted tomatoes. You may, of course, devour them on the spot. Standing at the oven. But do keep some for a magnificent pasta sauce. You can gently press them with a potato masher to futher soften the flesh and pair them with your favourite robust pasta, perhaps penne or fusili. Throw in some grated parmesan cheese, loosen with a bit of the pasta cooking water and call it dinner. I used roasted tomatoes as part of a melange of fillings for calzone last night, adding body and flavour to the mozzarella cheese, sauteed mushrooms, olives and roasted peppers they were accompanying. Grilled chicken breasts enjoy being slathered with a scattering of roasted tomatoes overtop as does a halibut steak. Omelettes filled with your withered wonders and little cubes of fresh mozzarella are a fine idea too. In a quiche, on a pizza, beside some garlicy shrimp, strewn over grilled sausages . . . . . . you get the idea.

The next time you see a nice looking tomato, treat it to some time in the oven.

More inspiration for putting tomatoes to good use:

Cippolini onions are not often seen in stores, so a sighting is a significant event for me. Cippolinis are delicate and sweet, small and savoury, lending themselves to caramelization in the oven and a bath in a bold sweet/sour agrodolce syrup. A large bag of cippolinis I just picked up at Costco was soon swimming in a fragrant pool of balsamic vinegar, olive oil and honey, augmented with chopped garlic and some perky peperoncino. Soon enough, the onions shrink down and the loose dressing boils down to fit a little more tightly around each orb, coating the onions with a thick, luscious glaze spiked with complex notes of acidic vinegar and vegetal sweetness. The aromas are absolutely intoxicating as this dish perfumes your kitchen with its heady scent.

I love to serve these onions hot from the oven with roasted meat or strewn alongside some hearty spaghetti Bolognese. The leftovers, cold from the fridge, are excellent in sandwiches of cold meat and cheese, or eaten on a plate with some dense country bread, dill pickles and an assortment of pates.

The first task is to peel the cippolinis. You can try your hand at doing this with the raw bulbs or give them a quick dip in a pot of boiling water to loosen the skins. Top and tail the onions and place them in a roasting pan that holds them snugly. Drizzle in a glug or two of extra-virgin olive oil, 2 or 3 glugs of balsamic vinegar and a couple of tablespoons of runny honey. Chop as much garlic as you like. I used about 6 large cloves for about 4 cups of onions. Season with salt and pepper to taste as well as a couple of large pinches of peperoncino. Toss everything together well and roast uncovered for about 45 minutes, turning every 12 minutes or so for even browning. If the mixture starts to look dry, add a couple of spoonfuls of water to the pan to prevent scorching. Final product: meltingly tender, golden knobs of sweet/sour/hot/salty onions, glazed and glistening in a thick, hot syrup. Serve hot, warm, cold or anything in between. These are fantastic any way you offer them. They keep very well in the fridge for at least a week.

Roasting is like magic. In goes something ordinary and out comes something extraordinary. Try your hand at more kitchen alchemy: