Vegetable Recipes, Easy Vegetable Sides, Soups & Ideas

Most Recent

You Can Grow Your Own Scallions with Nothing More Than a Glass of Water—Here’s How

Don’t toss those veggie scraps! Scallions, along with a number of other common vegetables in your kitchen, can regenerate all on their own with just a little water and sunshine.

What Is Nettle and What Does It Taste Like?

Here’s what you need to know.

Caramelized Onions

Be sure to choose a heavy-bottomed skillet with a light interior—it will make it easier to monitor the browned bits in the bottom of the pan to avoid scorching the onions.

Beet-and-Horseradish Tartare with Fresh Carrot Sauce

Rocco DiSpirito’s vegetarian “tartare” of shredded raw beets develops a slightly spicy depth from the horseradish and Dijon, while creamy carrot “egg yolk” brings bright flavor to beets’ natural earthy sweetness.

Charred Vegetable Ragù

Comfort food takes many forms. For me, it’s a Sunday sauce. One filled with fat tomatoes and that has simmered all day, deepening in flavor, its scent perfuming my home. But on weeknights after work, when I need that slow-cooked comfort most, I want it in a hurry. That’s when I look for a quick but intense cooking method that builds flavor fast. Cue the broiler, which I use to infuse my hearty vegetarian ragù with smoky richness. I set the roughly chopped mirepoix (a combination of yellow onion, celery, and carrots, with some portobellos and garlic for good measure) under the broiler to create a charred crust that adds layers of smoky flavor. Plenty of cremini mushrooms, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and dry red wine round out the sauce on the stove. Ladled over a pile of tagliatelle and topped with more cheese, this nourishing sauce tastes slow-cooked and comforting, especially on a wintry weeknight.

Beet-Carrot Slaw with Garlicky Labneh

This sweet, tart, and creamy jewel-toned slaw is filled with freshly shredded beets and carrots and tangy labneh. Make fast work of shredding carrots and beets using a food processor fitted with a grating attachment. Separating the grated vegetables helps keep their rich colors from mixing and muddling. Use rainbow carrots for more color, or swap out the red beets for Chioggia and their pink-and-white swirls.

What to Do With the Last Of Your Tomatoes

Backyard tomatoes don't always get the memo that it's firmly autumn. Here's what to do with their bounty.

What’s the Difference Between Canned Pumpkin and Pumpkin Pie Filling?

6 Types of Bitter Greens—and How to Use Them

Split Peas Are the Most Underrated Fall Vegetable—Here’s Why

What Is a Tomatillo⁠—and How Is It Different From a Tomato?

Garlicky Haricots Verts with Hazelnuts

Roasted Beet Salad with Greek Yogurt and Preserved Limes

When I moved to California, one of the first things I did was to run out and buy my very first citrus tree—a little dwarf lemon tree—which I promptly popped into a pot on my patio. A few years later, we moved to a house with a backyard, and I decided to grow as many edible plants as possible to provide fruit, vegetables, and herbs to liven up my cooking projects. Things I couldn’t imagine growing were now possible, from passion fruit to pomegranates. But first and foremost on my garden agenda was more citrus, especially limes, which I cook with quite frequently. I have a special fondness for limes; their intense aroma is incredibly energizing. Trapped beneath thin green skin, their sour juice brightens the flavor of any dish. In India where I grew up, limes are a popular source of acidity in cooking; they’re also often cut and pickled in oil and spices and left out in the sun to mature. If not exactly a flavor match, those sun-cured limes remind me of the preserved lemons that are so central to Moroccan cuisine. I’d already tried preserving lemons, leaning on Claudia Roden’s technique in her cookbook Arabesque, and was delighted with the floral and pungent results. But I wanted to speed up the weeks-long process, so I turned to my favorite citrus—thin-skinned limes—for inspiration. Typically when citrus is preserved, the fruit is cut and rubbed with salt before sitting for several weeks to mature. I reduced the long wait by taking advantage of heat to hasten the softening of the skin; I also pre-soaked the fruit with a bit of salt to remove the bitterness. Once the limes are ready—overnight instead of weeks later—all you have to do is rinse them well to remove the excess salt. Then they are ready to be chopped and folded into salad dressings, pureed and blended into mayonnaise, or used to spice up a roasted vegetable side dish, like this beet salad. I stir bits of the salty, tart lime peels into Greek yogurt that will serve as a bed for the juicy roasted beets, then I double down on the lime flavor by sprinkling a little extra over the top. The bright, bold flavor of the preserved limes is the perfect foil for lifting up the earthy flavor of beets. You probably don’t have your own lime tree outside your back door, but don’t let that stop you from experiencing this flavor phenomenon. These briny bites of sunshine are the perfect way to perk up your plate, no matter where you are.