Not so, I happily discovered. Although the book is produce-centric, its ethos is inclusive. Seasoned, perhaps, from years of trying to bring flavor to seitan and tempeh, Berley will do anything to amp up flavor -- infusing oils, brining, using fistfuls of herbs. Under these conditions, I found it very easy to bring his book to our unrepentantly omnivorous table.
Berley is a fan of the seasonal-menu school of eating. I found his spring and summer sections full of good things. Spring greens in dill vinaigrette was really just a dressing recipe. I have what could charitably be described as a limited repertoire of salad dressings, and I was enchanted to stumble on this lively combination of lemon, shallots, honey, and dill. In fact, I've had it every day for a week and haven't tired of it yet.
Chilled asparagus salad with sherry vinaigrette was refreshing in the same way. After blanching and shocking the spears, Berley advises chilling them in dressing for an hour so they can absorb it and, amazingly, they do. There's none of this business of trying to soak up sauce by dragging a spear through it, clearly the long stalk is the wrong shape for the job. I had never known you could eat radish greens, but Berley's recipe for butter-braised radishes with their greens turned them into a warm, vinegary treat, reminiscent of the way you might prepare collards or mustard greens. Alas, the radishes lost much of their sass and spice in the cooking. Roasted spring carrots with cumin and lime were bracingly tart, unlike the sweet glazed carrots that send kids packing. (Still, a word to the wise: Don't serve them to your kindergartner.)
We found the chilled curried red lentil and peach soup sweet yet filling in the way some Indian dal dishes are. It was fruity and appealing, if a bit monotonous after a while. Everyone at my table fell for the fresh corn polenta with sauteed cherry tomatoes: the smooth, golden uniformity of the polenta punctuated by fresh kernels, the herbed tomatoes charred and savory.
