Evening Edge

Several years ago, a young Turkish woman showed me her recipe for olive oil-braised green beans. I've rarely prepared them any other way since.

She cooked the beans in a pressure cooker with oil, water, garlic, onion, peppers, tomatoes, a bit of hot pepper paste and a generous shower of salt. The beans emerged intact but pliant, with a ruddy sauce and a flavor that improved steadily as they reached room temperature.

John Kessler writes food features and a column about food and more for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution E-mail John Kessler Recent Kessler columns Your fool-proof checklist for Thanksgiving  Hours of low-temperature cooking yield tender, juicy meat  Different things to sample on my new dining menu         More John Kessler Related: John Kessler's blog: Food & More John Kessler's recipes Meridith Ford Goldman's Table Talk Jeanne Besser's Feeding Frenzy Evening Edge Atlanta Restaurant reviews and search Recipes from Atlanta restaurants Favorite Atlanta recipes

There are three things I love about this dish:

One, the beans don't squeak. The only things that should squeak are adorable children and the occasional dog toy.

Two, since this side dish improves by simply sitting there like a couch potato in front of a soap opera, you can make it early and stash it in a far corner of the kitchen where it won't take up valuable refrigerator or burner space as you prepare the rest of the meal.

Three, these beans deliver a vital component to the meal, something that I like to call "plate mush." They spread their juices without any consideration to what's around them, so that everything on the plate has to play along. Mashed potatoes, roasted chicken, grilled salmon: It all ends up dripping with this vaguely Mediterranean flavor, and I like that. Is not food more communicative when forced into an easy conversation with garlic and tomatoes?

Now I bet you think I'm going to give you a recipe for those beans. I thought I was, too, but we're both wrong.

I had gone to DeKalb Farmers Market and had bought all the ingredients, starting with a plastic bag stuffed to bursting with lively, top-of-the-season snap beans so fresh they were still in clusters. The steak was marinating, the potatoes cubed, everything ready to go.

I laid all the ingredients out on the kitchen counter, right in a ray of late afternoon sun. I opened the door to the back patio and listened to the sonorous buzz of carpenter bees destroying our eaves.

And they were saying: Plate mush season is over.

The days of drippy comfort food were over. Now was the time for something bright and sharp. This change happens every year. I don't know when it's coming, but it always comes, always the same, like Susan Stamberg's cranberry relish recipe on NPR.

I just had one problem. What should I do with all these green beans?

N.B. If you'd like the recipe for Turkish green beans, you can find it online at www.eveningedge.com.