Cauliflower

Ayesha Kalaji, chef-owner of Glastonbury’s Queen of Cups, channels her Jordanian roots with the taste of spring

Cauliflower is so savoury, so delicate - when roasted, these beautifully nutty flavours emerge. It's a much-maligned vegetable, often reduced to a vehicle for other flavours or over-boiled to mush. But I've been playing around with textures: first roasting the florets, then deep-frying in a very light, crispy batter and tossing with white miso and cured lime dressing. My mum used to make a Middle Eastern dish of rice with toasted almonds and deep-fried cauliflower, so it channels those memories. We've aksi been using it as a lacto-ferment. At first it's pungent, but once fully fermented and thinly sliced, it makes a bright carpaccio. I serve it with a smoked almond beurre noisette, fresh parsley and shatta (fermented chillies), either as a dish in its own right or with trout.

Cauliflower lends itself to experimental dishes; I once went to a restaurant with cauliflower crémeux on the dessert menu and I still think about it - it was so smart, so sweet and gentle. It's a great comfort food too: cauliflower cheese is perhaps the greatest side dish in the world. Being in Somerset, it's a good way to celebrate local cheddars. Or, for a twist, try a nutty Manchego or Stilton with chillies stirred through, or a za'atar breadcrumb topping.

For friends, I'll often blanch a whole cauliflower and roast it with a spice rub: coriander, fennel, fenugreek and a little tumeric. I might use the season's wild garlic as a base for a salsa verde, along with a tahini dressing, some deep-fried buckwheat or chopped hazelnuts for crunch.

This article was taken from the April 2024 issue of Food and Travel. To subscribe today, click here.