What's Cooking?

Los Angeles, California


Someone, who shall remain nameless, has requested a recipe. And, if anyone else out there has wondered why the recipes have disapparated, I will explain. They took a break, or rather, I did. I haven't taken a break from cooking. Au contraire. But laying out recipes on my posts is a time-consuming task, as I explained once before in a previous post -- one of the 60-odd or so, which are all available here for free (an old and oft-repeated joke which I adapted after cribbing it from the wonderful footnotes in Lisa Lutz' Spellman family series, which you all must read. See more here). If I were better at my layout and design, I would probably have a template for the recipes, but I'm not and I don't and so there you have it. And if you're expecting an apology for that last recipe for popcorn, you can just forget about that.


Popcorn recipe notwithstanding, food is an important part of my life and blog. And so. And so, I reluctantly drag myself back to meeting the challenge of placing recipes in my posts. Don't get me wrong. I love to share recipes. That's not the problem, but rather it is one of indentations and wrapping. But why should I burden you? Instead, let's extol the virtues of . . . cauliflower.


My friend, Christopher, who prepared the most amazing fontina risotto for ten (or twelve or so, since I got the leftovers) on New Year's Eve when we were all in Carmel, forwarded a recipe for broccoli and shrimp, which originally came from the New York Times. He had adapted it for cauliflower and confessed he sometimes nixed the shrimp. I further adapted it, due to a shortage of coriander seeds the first time I made it. And so, here is the recipe as I prepared it, with notes regarding the original recipe. And I'm off, into the world of formatting . . .


Roasted Cauliflower (Broccoli) With Shrimp (or not)


2 pounds cauliflower, cut into bite-sized florets (or broccoli!)
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons lemon olive oil*
1 teaspoon whole fennel seed (or whole coriander seed)
1 teaspoon whole cumin seed
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon whole pink peppercorns (or 1/8 teaspoon red chile flakes)
1 pound large shrimp, shelled and deveined
1 teaspoon (mas o menos) lemon zest (from 1 large lemon)
Lemon wedges, for serving


Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In a large bowl, toss cauliflower with extra virgin olive oil, fennel, cumin, salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. In a separate bowl, combine shrimp, lemon olive oil, remaining 1/2 teaspoon pepper, pink peppercorns, and lemon zest.


Spread cauliflower in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast for ten minutes. Add shrimp to baking sheet and toss with cauliflower. Roast, tossing once halfway through, until shrimp are just opaque and cauliflower is tender, about ten minutes more. Serve with lemon wedges, or squeeze lemon juice all over shrimp and cauliflower just before serving.


4 servings.


*I kinda have this thing for lemon olive oil. I've tried a few brands. I used to buy O brand, but last year did a taste test with Lucini and decided I liked the later better. It had a clearer lemon oil flavor and was less bitter. I still rely on O brand's sherry vinegar and champagne vinegar.


Christopher reported being obsessed with this recipe, and I can fully understand that. I have made variations of it with fennel - a bulb or two, sliced up, and a quite nice rendition with brussels sprouts. I think it may very well become a reliable standard in our kitchen. More often than not I make it without the shrimp. But a bag of frozen uncooked shrimp from Trader Joe's is a fast way to add protein to the dish when you need that. I did restock the coriander seeds and use them about half of the time. I have celery seed on order from Morton & Bassett and expect to try that in the near future.


So, there you have it. Roasted vegetables for a winter's day, enabling us all to feel quite smug and healthy. And there's nothing wrong with that -- at least nothing that a martini and a hot fudge sundae can't fix. Le sigh . . . (and thank you for reading, and maybe even cooking with, my blog.)