One good thing from Brussels?

A recipe for cheesy Brussels sprouts gratin

The most popular food at the Christmas feast is not the turkey, it’s the roast potatoes. That's according to a UK survey I'm inclined to believe even while bathed in awe at the subjects people spend money on to have surveyed.

I’ve never seen the point of turkey myself, given the option of similar, better tasting birds like goose or capon. Chicken, even, so long as it’s one that has developed its flavour by scratching around the garden and being fed scraps off the kitchen table. Bought chicken, even those fancy yellow ones, tend to be as bland as turkey.

The most interesting aspect of a turkey is the etymology of the word. To name the unfamiliar New World native, the pilgrim colonists to America are thought to have borrowed the word from the guinea fowl Turkish traders had introduced from Africa to Europe. The Turks themselves, mistakenly believing the turkey to be from India, call it a hindi. The French, taking the same view, call it a dinde - ‘of India’. The Greeks diverge, calling it a French, a gallopoulo - ‘of Gaul’. I call it a bore. But you already guessed that.

Still, you surely would acknowledge that given the extreme cooking measures desperate people take to add interest like deep frying it (in how many gallons of oil?), or barbecuing it (often standing outside knee-deep in snow), or stuffing it like a Russian doll with a boned chicken inside a boned duck inside the turkey, whatever they choose to call it they clearly deem it unadulterated a disappointing bird.

Meanwhile, back to that list of Christmas favourites, coming in at Number 8 is, believe it or not, the Brussels sprout. Mind you, another survey has it as “the most hated" vegetable in the US, and one of Britain’s lead supermarket chains recently found that nearly three-quarters of people aged 18-24 aren’t fans either. Do they have no regard for tradition? Apparently, they prefer brunch to the sprout. Excuse me? That’s as unrelated as saying a person prefers ironing to toothpaste. Who's compiling these surveys?

Commonly maligned, the Brussels sprout has been a victim too long of that unforgivable British culinary technique, the dedicated overcook. The vegetable deserves more respect.

Cultivar of a subgroup of the cabbage family with a subtly different nutty taste, it is, somewhat surprisingly, not a northerner but a native of the warm Mediterranean region. Very early versions are thought to have been found in Ancient Rome. Though the first reference to it appears in 1587, it had begun to be cultivated for its edible buds back in the 13th century near Brussels, which gave these gemmifera (bud producers) their name, which is why I spell is with a capital B, although you may legitimately do otherwise. (This is information for passing on to those who insist it's a lower case common noun with no ‘s’ at the end of the first word. How do they explain that etymology?)

Belgium is still the largest producer on the Continent, at 82,000 metric tons a year. While the Brits grow a similar amount, they don’t export them because they have too much fun buying them to boil to a pulp. French settlers to Louisiana in the 18th century introduced them into the United States. Not a bad pedigree for a vegetable so many people consider despicable.

Perhaps all they need to do is try a different recipe. Brussels sprouts are considerably uplifted by the addition of chunks of peeled and cooked chestnuts (available in vacuum packs or cans) and/or crispy bacon bits or lardons. Toasted hazelnuts are another complement. Or try shredding them finely then tossing them briskly in oil and butter with the curls of zest from a lemon and a finishing splash of sesame oil.  

Roasting rather than boiling Brussels sprouts is the technique currently popular. However, it can make them bitter and leave them unappealingly chewy. A better method that brings out their sugar is to slice them in half to produce a broader surface and sizzle them, cut side down, in oil and butter in a large frying pan over low to medium heat for 5 minutes. Then slam a lid on the pan for a further 5 minutes for the Brussels sprouts to wilt. If you then want to give them a Middle Eastern twist, before serving, throw in a handful of pomegranate seeds and dribble over a little pomegranate molasses to add a crunch and acidity.

Health warning (which some might use an excuse not to eat them): Properly cooked, the Brussels sprout is delicious. It's also a generous source of Vitamin K, whose role is to produce a protein active in blood clotting, bone metabolism and regulating blood calcium levels. So someone on anti-coagulants shouldn't overdo their Brussels sprouts consumption (as if, you might be thinking) as they could interfere with some blood thinners.

You don’t have to wait until Christmas to eat Brussels sprouts. This vegetarian cheesy gratin makes a soothing one-dish meal all winter long. However, if the recipe appeals while Brussels sprouts don’t, use a Hispi cabbage sliced from top to bottom in large wedges instead if you really must.

600g/1lb3oz Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved if large
1 tablespoon olive oil
50g/4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 shallots, finely chopped
50g/4 tablespoons flour
750ml/25 fl oz milk
1 large tablespoon grainy Dijon mustard
100ml/3½ fl oz creme fraiche
150g/5¼oz Cantal, Cheddar or other strong-flavoured cheese, grated
40g/1½oz dried breadcrumbs or Panko 
2 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves only
60g/2oz skinless hazelnuts, roughly chopped

Preheat the oven to 220C/425F.

Bring a large pan of lightly salted water to the boil. Add the sprouts and cook for 3 minutes then drain and set aside.

To make the bechamel sauce, heat the oil and butter in a medium saucepan until the butter is foaming. Add the shallots and cook over a low heat stirring occasionally until soft. Tip in the flour, stir to incorporate and cook for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and in several pours, slowly whisk the milk into the flour paste, continuously whisking until you get a smooth sauce. 

Return to the heat. Add the mustard and simmer for 2 minutes while whisking. Slowly incorporate the creme fraiche, followed by the cheese. Season to taste with freshly ground black pepper and salt to taste. 

Toss together the dried breadcrumbs, thyme leaves and hazelnuts. Tip the sprouts into a deep roughly 30cm/11ins x 20cm/7ins ovenproof dish and pour over the sauce. Top with the breadcrumb mixture. Bake in the centre of the oven for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown and bubbling. 

Leave to rest for at least 10 minutes before serving.

This dish can be made well in advance before the final baking step. It goes particularly well with any cut of pork or ham but makes a substantial one-dish meal on its own. Crispy bacon bits can substitute for the hazelnut crumbs for a different take.

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