Mmm. Sprouts.

Madison.

Okay, so here's another one from the New York Times: Frank Bruni singing the praises of the humble Brussels sprout. I adore them when they're in season, which won't be until late October or November, depending on this year's weather. You could probably extend them well into the winter with a proper hoophouse setup, I'd imagine, but no one at the local markets appears to have done so. Not yet, anyhow. Given the choice between frost-sweetened spinach and Brussels sprouts, most folks tend to the former.

When I buy them at the farmers' market, they tend to come all attached to the stalk, a two-foot long shaft studded with tiny cabbage heads. A few vendors'll trim the sprouts off to sell by the pound - which ups the price, of course. It also means you'll have to trim the ends before cooking, since they dry out and get sort of woody. Not a big deal, especially if you don't have the fridge space to jam in the whole stalk.

I don't know that I'd ever had Brussels sprouts before buying them here at the market. My parents never had much in the way of cabbage around when I was growing up, and I think my mom has bad childhood memories of overdone sprouts. My grandmother comes from the old Italian tradition of erring on the side of overcooking vegetables, rather than the French preference for keeping them a little crisp and al dente. Through experience, I've found that my mom loves the latter, to the point where she'll comment on how she loves when I prepare green beans to go with Christmas dinner. All I do is boil or steam them. Add a little salt, pepper and maybe olive oil. Sometimes it's the (seemingly) minor details that elevate simple cooking to something special.

Two of my office coworkers like Brussels sprouts, though neither has any particular cooking talents. They'll readily admit this. So they microwave their sprouts, then add some salt and pepper. I'm a little freaked out by this method, because I can only imagine it bringing out the most pungently sulfurous qualities of the vegetables. Then again, I'm wary of using the microwave for much other than boiling water, softening lemons, or making popcorn.

My usual method, which is only slightly more difficult than the microwave, involves slicing the heads in half, then searing them quickly in a little butter to brown up the edges a bit. Then braise in chicken stock (or whatever's handy) until just tender, then take off the heat and drop in a knob of butter to thicken up the braising liquid. Salt and pepper usually cover the seasoning pretty well.

Also good, though, and on the slate for next year's pickling bonanza, are pickled Brussels sprouts. They first appeared at the combination Paul/Nick birthday bash, as just one among many of the available Bloody Mary garnishes. Paul grabbed them at the grocery store because they were just too weird not to - along with anchovies, sardines, and other deliciously pungent stuff that I adore and not many others do. Turns out, though, that they were fantastic. Just a whiff of sulfur, but that was pretty quickly overwhelmed by the vinegar and salt. Went very well with vodka-spiked tomato juice.

Also made for an excellent building block in the "build a Bloody Mary garnish that looks like Paul" contest.