carrots

This simple ribboned carrot salad might not be the first thing to jump off the beautifully photographed pages of Louisa Shafia's much-lauded cookbook The New Persian Kitchen, but skimming past it would make for a small tragedy. Vinegary and bright, with a nutty, roasted note from the toasted sesame seeds and oil, it's not only visually stunning, but also delightfully balanced and far more nuanced than its simplicity would suggest.

Even better, it's quick (and easy) to prepare and can hold up to an overnight stay in the fridge, making it weeknight dinner- and brown-bag lunch-friendly, a rare and impressive feat. So what are you waiting for? Bust out the vegetable peeler, and get down to it.

When my mom took me shopping to pick out a cake for my third birthday party, I perused the cake case and almost immediately zeroed in on a pure white coconut layer cake, crowned by a single gleaming red maraschino cherry. Now, this wouldn't seem out of the ordinary, except for one key factor: I hated coconut (and still do).

Not looking to tempt a meltdown, my mom gave in and had the cake boxed up for the celebration. Later, after blowing out the candles, I refused to try even the tiniest taste, instead gobbling up the maraschino cherry with glee, sated by that single cheery cherry. Today, my mom likes to joke that she could have gotten away with just buying a jumbo-size jar of maraschino cherries, with better success for all parties involved.

So when my mom mentioned that my (much younger) brother requested a carrot cake for his birthday, I panicked slightly. Would he be expecting the carrot cake equivalent of that notorious coconut cake? Were his eyes filled with dreams of piped frosting carrots, rather than the contents within? Craftier folk might have practiced piping diminutive carrots ad nauseam until they came out with bakery-level precision. But I know my limitations: my shaky hands are capable of a clean and simple frosting job at best, so I trudged on, and held my hopes high that my brother would be wise beyond his years and enjoy the cake for its sweet and spicy flavor, rather than a deftly packaged product.

Keep reading for the recipe.

I've sung pureed soup's praises before, and I'll sing them again: few foods are more satisfying, nourishing, and leftovers-friendly while still allowing room for experimentation and intrigue. This Middle Eastern spiced carrot soup is no exception. Creamy without using cream and garnished with all matter of excellent nibbles, it's the sort of soup that is worthy of a light meal in and of itself.

A quick word on the garnishes: I know what you're thinking: four components for one soup . . . isn't that a hair excessive? The short answer is no. Spiced chickpeas, a tahini-lemon dollop, dukkah, and parsley make the soup the lovely dish it is by providing loads of textural and flavor contrast, while adding minimal time and effort to the recipe.

Keep reading for the warmly spiced recipe.

Ultrasimple roasted carrots dressed in naught but a drizzle of olive oil, salt, and pepper are a perennial favorite in my household, but let's face it: too much of anything gets old fast, no matter how delightful. Not quite ready to abandon the idea completely — I relish in how fuss-free carrots are to prep, their relatively long shelf crisper life and adore their earthy, slightly sweet flavor — I made a quick Internet search for a new variation on this old favorite.

Thankfully, this recipe from Mark Bittman delivers. I suspect that I'll be devouring this zingy, vibrant, pared-down side until I'm as sick of it as its predecessor (a mark of a good recipe, in my book).

Keep reading for the fast and easy recipe.