Bully for brussels sprouts
by Chef Boy Ari

When I was in the third grade I switched to a school across town. It took less than a day at my new school to identify the class scratching post. I never understood how or why he was designated as the one to bully, and I became friends with him. One day his Chinese mom took us to Boston's Chinatown, a trip that turned out to be a formative event in the development of Chef Boy Ari. My mind was blown by the strange and exotic happenings in the cramped cafes, open-air markets and other culinary nooks and crannies.

At about the same time, I noticed another victim of the cruelty of children. I became aware that, like my poor friend in third grade, brussels sprouts were widely considered to suck. Again, this awareness did not result from any personal negative encounters, but from the passive persuasion of hearing other kids announce their disgust. And since there were no brussels sprouts in my classroom, the judgment was somewhat abstract. Meanwhile, nobody ever warned me about orange marmalade, which appeared one day at snack time. Its effect on young Chef Boy Ari was similar to the effect of the smell of vomit.

Despite their reputation, I never had a problem with brussels sprouts, though I never went out of my way for them either. The first time I really noticed them was at a Thanksgiving celebration at an Idaho farm. I was able to look up from my plate, laden with buttered brussels sprouts, and gaze out the window into the fields, where brussels sprouts plants poked out of the snow. The plants still bore sprouts on the stalks, sweetened by the frosts of autumn.

Last year, I finally planted some, hoping for my own crop of snowed-in greens. Everything went according to plan, and my brussels sprouts stood green and proud long after the rest of the garden had withered. In November and December I ate of my brussels sprouts, and it was good.

I had to go away for a few months, and I abandoned half my crop.But when I returned in March, there they were, standing proud and vigorous above the snowmelt and still bearing sprouts, ever so happy to see me. A fully loaded rack of sprouts is an impressive sight, and I was happy to see them, too.

In most places they last until January. If you would like to harvest brussels sprouts next winter, now is the time to swing into action. Local grower Kim Murchison starts her seeds in mid-April, but that doesn't mean it's too late. Johnny's seed catalog (online at johnnyseeds.com) recommends starting brussels sprouts indoors in May, or direct seeding four months before the first expected frost of autumn. I recommend the Oliver variety, which comes to maturity in 80 days. Another nice option for speedy delivery is Catalpa Tree Seed Co., accessible through the very cool website: localharvest.org.

So there I was with my overwintered brussels sprouts. I set about eating those tasty things right away, and here are some highlights from my recipe trials.

Cardamom brussels sprouts: (This one is a hit with the ladies for some reason. They dig cardamom.) Toast ¼ cup slivered almonds in a dry pan until golden, and set aside. Wash 1 pound brussels sprouts, cut off the bottoms, and chop into quarters. Steam until neon green (as opposed to the overcooked shades of sea green, puke green, snot green or military green). In a bowl, mix ¼ teaspoon cardamom powder, your toasted almonds, a pinch of salt and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Toss the steamed brussels sprouts in this sauce and serve.

This next one I found on epicurious.com and modified slightly. More than 30 online viewers claimed that until they tried this recipe they hated brussels sprouts. Thus, it would be a good one to serve in primary school lunches - except it contains prosciutto, at $18 a pound.

Baked sprouts with prosciutto: Wash and trim 1 pound brussels sprouts, cutting the large ones in half. Toss them with 2 ounces prosciutto (or substitute bacon), 2 cloves minced garlic and 1 tablespoon olive oil. Put them in a baking pan with ¼ cup chicken stock and bake at 450 until neon green (and until the bacon is cooked).

Finally, with a nod to my friend the classroom loser: Chef Boy Ari's Half-Chinese brussels sprouts: Fry a slice of bacon, chopped, in a pan. When it's half-cooked, add 2 cups thinly sliced brussels sprouts. It's amazing how much volume the compact sprouts release when chopped! While that's cooking, mix 2 tablespoons rice vinegar, 2½ teaspoons sugar, 1 tablespoon grated ginger, 1 teaspoon sesame oil and 3 tablespoons soy sauce. When the sugar dissolves, stir in 2 tablespoons oyster sauce and set aside. When the sprouts get neon green, kill the heat and stir in the sauce.

Many stores are still stocking brussels sprouts, and almost any store can order them if you want an immediate fix. Meanwhile, go get some seeds! I know it hurts to think about next winter, but when those stems poke above the snow, you're gonna say "Bully for brussels sprouts!"