In Defense of Cauliflower

As both a baker and a cook, ingredients are my north star. Nothing gets me in the kitchen faster than great local produce, dairy or grains. Flowers are lovely, but a pile of vegetables awaiting transformation? That’s peak beauty.

Which is why I was mildly scandalized by something I overheard on the train last week: a Boston-bound commuter complaining to his seat mate, “Miss me with cauliflower. It doesn’t taste like anything.” I try to mind my business on public transit, but it took serious restraint not to interrupt. Because that’s exactly why cauliflower rocks. Cauliflower is how you cook it. If it’s coming out bland, you need to change your approach.

Dense yet porous, the unassuming brassica is both sturdy and absorbent. Its head—technically called the curd—is a maze of nooks and crannies. All that surface area means flavor has somewhere to land. Moreso than its cruciferous cousins, cauliflower is a canvas. At Milk Street, we've got two techniques that prove it.

Technique no. 1: Coat it in something that browns

Caramelization gives you texture and concentrated flavor. In our Tandoori Cauliflower with Cashew-Cilantro Sauce, cauliflower quarters are dipped in spiced yogurt before roasting. The yogurt protects the spices from scorching so they bloom instead of burn, while the coating caramelizes into a savory, lightly charred crust.

Same idea, different direction: Kale Salad with Crispy Parmesan-Cauliflower Croutons. Breadcrumbs, Parmesan and crushed hazelnuts create a salty, toasty shell for tender florets.

Technique no. 2: Braise it

This plays to the cauliflower's sponge-like side. Sicilian cooks have long known this—cavolfiore affogato, or "drowned cauliflower"—is exactly what it sounds like: florets submerged in a punchy sauce until they've soaked up all its flavor. Our version, Smothered Cauliflower with Tomatoes and Capers, simmers cauliflower with that sweet-tart-briny combination for about 30 minutes, until seasoned all the way through. Harissa-Braised Cauliflower and Chickpeas uses the same method with smoky chili paste; Braised Cauliflower with Garlic, Bacon and Scallions delivers the smokiness without the heat.

Want to convert a cauliflower skeptic? Combine both techniques. For our Roasted “Corned” Cauliflower, we brine a whole head for several hours so it absorbs flavor from the inside out, then slather it with butter and whole-grain mustard, coat it in dill and panko, and roast until deeply browned.

So, Mystery Commuter: I hope you get to know cauliflower better one day. It never tasted like nothing—it tastes like whatever you make it.

Want to hear more from Ari? Sign up for her weekly newsletter here.

Join the conversation on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and Pinterest.

And if you're looking for more Milk Street, check out our livestream cooking classes with our favorite chefs, home cooks and friends for global recipes, cooking methods and more.

Ari Smolin

Ari Smolin writes and edits for Milk Street’s magazine and cookbooks. Before joining the team, she baked her way from Brooklyn to Los Angeles—laminating croissants before dawn, shepherding sourdough loaves by the hundreds, and discovering that stone-milled flour plus seasonal fruit is her happy place. She writes about whole-grain baking as well, most recently co-authoring “Morning Baker: Recipes and Rituals for Breakfast and Beyond.” You can find her fruit-and-grain escapades on Instagram @Ari.Smolin. Want to talk flour? Drop her a line at ari.smolin@gmail.com.