Brussels Sprouts may get a bad rap for their whiffy ways, but I’m telling you right now that these adorable tiny cabbages are both magical and delicious. My friend’s husband (a notoriously picky eater & sprout hater alike) even called these the best brussels sprouts in the world.
And yes, in my mind, he said it in the Dos Equis voice.
Now let’s address the magical part: they grow on a stalk. Boom. Done. Fairytale.
I mean, did you know brussels grow on a stalk?
The first time I saw one at Trader Joe’s, I stopped dead in my tracks, causing a near fatal hipster cart collision behind me. No matter. I ignored all the nerd specs glaring at my back, and set faux coon tails a swishing, as I just stood there gaping and giddy. I’m embarrassed to admit I
might have even shrieked and lunged. Hey, I’m a city girl. Apples with their leaves, tomatoes on the vine, and carrots with their tops on are all pretty exotic fair. And now, brussels on their stalk!
More than pretty or exotic though, I think seeing food in it’s natural state really taps into a childlike sense of wonder and awe at the way the natural world works. It’s dirty and imperfect and delicious and makes us wait for the perfect summer fig regardless if we’ve upgraded to an iPhone 4s.
The anticipation only makes it sweeter.
And no, I haven’t upgraded yet.
Roasted Honey Mustard Brussels Sprouts
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons honey
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
1/2 teaspoon tamari
3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Chop off the white bottom part of each sprout and chop larger sprouts in half.
3. Rinse sprouts well and pluck some leaves to make “crunchy bits” while you’re at it.
4. Toss olive oil, honey, mustard, tamari and garlic in a bowl with the freshly washed sprouts.
5. Dump sprouts and loose leaves out onto a cookie sheet, and season liberally with salt and pepper.
6. Bake sprouts for around 30-40 minutes, frequently shaking pan so they
burn roast evenly. Finished sprouts will be be charred/carmelized on the outside and soft, but not mushy, on the inside. They should be served immediately. Oh! And they’ll taste like candy. You’re welcome.
I must admit I frequently make myself a tray of these sprouts only to gobble them up while leaning over the stove like some mythic half-starved giant. Yeah. I tower over that stove. In my more civilized moments however, I like to serve these sprouts as a side to my vegan mac n’ cheese. You could even substitute agave (use less though) for the honey, and make a real vegan show of it.
Any other sprout lovers out there? Do you have recipes that rarely make it to the table too?