They say kids don’t like vegetables, but my grandson Brandon evidently didn’t get that memo. He’s eaten and loved veggies since the age of two (he’s eight now), with broccoli being his favorite. He’s not shy about it, either. Last time he was over I asked him how he wanted his broccoli. He said, “Roasted... where you lay them out on a cookie sheet.” Want a scene that’ll melt your heart? That’s watching Brandon down on all fours , peering through the glass into the oven at his broccoli baking . When they come out, I put a little Parmesan cheese on top, and Brandon’s picking them off the roasting pan.

I like to make kale a world traveler; in other books I’ve managed to stamp its passport with Asian, Latin American, and Mediterranean flavorprints. This time I’ve booked kale’s passage to Thailand, in whose cuisine coconut, ginger, and lime can often be found. Coconut milk helps increase the bioavailability of kale’s fat-soluble vitamins, while coconut’s sweetness and the brightness of the lime help eliminate kale’s natural bitterness. I’ve taken kale so many places I’m amazed I don’t have Customs showing up at my front door. But if they do, I’ll just make them this dish and they’ll go away satisfied.

Ah, the great divide. One on side, greens. On the other side, you. The chasm seems as wide as the Grand Canyon. It’s a gulf desperately in need of a bridge, especially for dark leafy greens—kale, chard, collards—which are arguably the greatest longevity foods out there, exploding with disease-fighting phytochemicals. And yet, these jade nutritional behemoths can be incredibly intimidating to work with. Where to start? I suggest thinking of greens as the perfect foundation for a variety of flavorprints. The only way you’re going to eat greens regularly is if they fly you around the world. Good thing they have their pilot’s license! By working with different spices and herbs, greens become like a local tourist guide to a host of cuisines. These dishes reach across the globe: Latin America, the Mediterranean, India, and the Orient . . . they are as versatile as a Renaissance man at a cocktail party. Learn to work with them and I promise that great divide will exist no more.

As a cook, you never stop learning. I was doing a cooking demo one day in a tiny town in West Marin across from Toby’s Feed Barn. As I was prepping and peeling the squash, an extremely seasoned farmer with a weathered face came up to me. He was the kind of guy who normally wouldn’t talk even if he were on fire. But what I was doing truly had him flummoxed. He looked at my peeler, smacked his lips in thought, and said, “Y’know, you don’t have to peel ’em.” He might as well have said it’s okay to drive naked. I told him I’d been peeling them forever. “Nooooo,” he moaned, at what was obviously food blasphemy in his book. “The skin is good—tender. Stop peeling!” It turns out he was right: the skin does indeed taste fine, and once it’s cooked, it isn’t tough. Squash has excellent anti-inflammatory and immune-boosting nutrients, along with a huge kick of vitamin A. In this incarnation, it also has wonderful sweetness, thanks to the roasting and the addition of orange zest and maple syrup.

Like Penn and Teller, opposites often attract—and create magic. So it is here. At first glance, Swiss chard and butternut squash appear to be poles apart, yet they melt into each others arms in a way that enraptures the senses. The sweetness of roasted butternut squash is the perfect foil for chard’s tartness, and cranberries and orange zest do a similar tango to heighten the appeal. Visually, the tart is a stunner; topped with walnuts and studded with cranberries and feta, it looks like a still life waiting for the right artiste to saunter by. Chard is also a longevity superstar, full of antioxidants and boasting phytonutrients linked to blood sugar regulation, heart health, and improved detoxification. Note that you’ll need a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom for this recipe.

This recipe was featured in the Weekly Yum, on Stirring the Pot radio.  Cookbook author and culinary translator, Rebecca Katz joins the conversation with Stefanie Sacks to deconstruct Romanesco Summer Salad from Brassicas by Laura B. Russell. Sacks and Katz lure you into the kitchen to create meals that enhance your health and well being while caressing your tastebuds. Nutritious always meets delicious on the Weekly Yum.

When Hippocrates said “Let food be thy medicine, and medicine be thy food,” there’s little doubt in my mind that he was referring to foods drawn from the brassica family. Ounce-for-ounce, brassicas contain more healing properties than any other branch of food.

Conquering this recipe reminded me of Charlie Brown’s travails with Lucy and that football. There would be Lucy, pleading with Charlie to take one more shot at kicking the football and promising she wasn’t going to mess with him anymore—and always pulling away the ball at the last moment. The Brussels sprouts in this recipe played Lucy to my Charlie. They teased me with their offerings of wellness—especially a compound shown to keep DNA from fragmenting during cell reproduction—but they kept refusing to play nice with every taste companion I threw their way. I was about to walk away for good when an email arrived from a friend who knew about my frustrations. She sent along a picture of a beautiful Brussels sprout stalk in her garden, with the small sprouts dotting the stalk, along with a caption that said, “Please give us another chance! We’ll be good!’ So I said, “Okay. One. Last. Chance.” And whaddya know? I finally achieved success. Roasting was the key, creating a golden-brown, sweet-tasting, crunchy treat.

Most people I know are intimidated by dark leafy greens. They buy them because they should, yet the greens always seem to end up either in a vase as a bouquet or permanently exiled to the hinterlands of the fridge. Here’s a better solution. Sauté your greens in olive oil and garlic. Toss in some cherry tomatoes for color, or caramelized onions and a few raisins for sweetness. My friend said her 4-year old ate these greens and said they tasted like candy. Now that’s a kid with a bright future!

This beautiful salad represents a harmonic convergence of tastes. The spiciness of some of the greens in a spring mix is balanced by the avocado’s creamy, healthy fat, while the sweetness of the roasted beets cuts the acidic nature of the citrus dressing.If the beets vary in size, wrap them accordingly so you can remove the package of smaller ones when tender, leaving the larger ones in the oven until they are tender.