It's 2:45 in the morning, and I'm thinking about broccoli. This is not my brain's usual employment at this hour; usually, at 2:45, it's trying to defend itself from whatever wedding nightmare it's cooked up that night. The wrong groom, the wrong dress, the wrong day -- they go tripping across my little brain like so many ogres from under the bridge, snarling and taunting me with their what-could-go-wrongness. I am nothing if not a stereotype.
Incidentally, while we're on that subject, I'm growing quite proud of our wedding -- the party we're about to throw for 170 of our nearest and dearest, I mean. I think those nearest and dearest are going to have a good time, or at the very least, eat some fantastic food. I'm proud of the work we're doing on it, and I'm thrilled to report that, thus far, we have not registered a single knock-down-drag-'em-out fight about anything. Pride does go before a fall, they say, and it may rain like the dickens on April 24, and I may forget my vows and we might lose the rings, and the pork tenderloin might be underdone and the chocolate doberge cake might not have enough layers. But the only foregone conclusion is us, and the wrong color tablecloth can't change that.
But I was talking about broccoli. I'm going to spare you the childhood remembrances of broccoli battles and how I came around to it, and just get straight to the point: I want you to make this broccoli now, or the next time you eat a meal, and I want you to tell me how it goes. You'll have to do this after you refocus your eyeballs and peel yourself off the ceiling. This broccoli is that good.
One of the very good things about our no-meat experiment in the fall was the consequent explosion of vegetables in our kitchen, and we've tried to keep it up since then. We've spent a lot of time with Brandon's chana masala and Deb's sweet potato and chard gratin (go make this now too, please; labor-intensive and worth it). But lately, we'd sort of settled back into our routine of roasted brussels sprouts and sauteed spinach. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but then this came along, and really, it made our week.
It's a recipe I found on Food 52 (do you know about this? If not, go there now) called "Roasted Bagna Cauda Broccoli," and just that piqued my interest. I am, like any normal person, always open to garlic and butter, and I'm starting to warm up to anchovies. So I printed it out and made it a couple of nights ago along with a roasted chicken, and it has haunted me since then.
The wallop of different flavors in this dish belies its incredible simplicity. All you do is roast a head or so of broccoli, saute some anchovies and garlic in butter and olive oil and white wine, and douse the broccoli in the mixture. Oh, and don't forget the lemon and toasted nuts. A little dusting of Parmesan wouldn't hurt either. That's it. But oh! A forkful of this stuff will send you over the edge. It's got so many things going on: the heat of the garlic, the sharp corners of the lemon, the nutty flavor of the roasted broccoli, and the anchovy. But they don't compete against each other. Instead, they combine into a dream team of flavors, each complementing the other without pulling too far ahead. It's a wonderful dish. You should have some as soon as you can.
Bagna Cauda Broccoli
adapted from Food 52
2 heads of broccoli, chopped into florets (I used two small heads of organic broccoli for this, but I'm sure one really large head would work too)
3 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 tbsp., give or take, of olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 anchovy fillets
a generous splash of white wine (I used pinot grigio and it worked fine; just no oaky chardonnay)
half a lemon, squeezed (Food 52 asks for Meyer, but I had a plain lemon)
Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup nuts (slivered almonds, walnut pieces or pine nuts would all work well; Food 52 asks for almonds, but I only had walnuts, and they were tasty)
1. Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Toss the broccoli florets in a little olive oil, salt and pepper, and roast on a Silpat or otherwise lined cookie sheet. The tips of the broccoli should be browned -- about 15-20 minutes.
2. In a skillet, melt the butter and olive oil on medium heat. Add the garlic and anchovy and saute for about three minutes. Add the lemon, white wine and cook a little longer -- maybe about five minutes. Let it reduce down a little.
3. While you're doing this, toast off the nuts until a little browned, but watch them carefully. You can do this either in another skillet or a toaster oven. Your choice.
4. Toss the broccoli, sauce and nuts together, and grate some Parmesan over it all. Serve and get out of the way.
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Oh YUM - I'll absolutely being trying this, although probably not until I unpack all my kitchen items in a new locale. :-)
ReplyDeleteWonderful recipe! I love Broccoli
ReplyDeleteYou had me at anchovies. Ghastly, right? Except, no! They spin miracles, all depth and wonder. I will give it a go, no question.
ReplyDeleteYour writing is beautiful. I'm so happy to have found it.
Molly
http://www.remedialeating.com