My daughter, Alice, has always
loved vegetables, raw or cooked. I
felt like it was a validation of
all my parenting, and I was so
proud (of myself). Then along came
Alice's little brother, Leo, and my
pride suffered mightily. Leo
wouldn't go near a vegetable that
wasn't fried, sauced, or otherwise
disguised. Until one evening, when
I brought Leo into the kitchen,
post-bath, for a drink of water. I
had a tray of roasted cauliflower
on the counter, still warm from the
oven, and Leo grabbed the nearest
floret and put the whole thing in
his mouth. He proceeded to eat
about half the pan of cauliflower,
while I held him there, still damp,
smelling more and more like olive
oil all the while. It was a
glorious moment. Warm or cold, a
tray of roasted vegetables has a
lot of possibilities. Add to broth,
puree a bit, and voila! Soup! (See
pureed soups.) Add to beaten eggs,
bake in the oven, and voila!
Frittata! Set out on a plate next
to Aioli and voila! Appetizer.
Serve over pasta, rice, or polenta,
or as a bed for any kind of
seasoned protein (from steak and
sausages to salmon and lentils),
and you have a meal.
