If you carve two inch-thick planks from a cauliflower's middle, not only do these cross-sections hold together much better than you'd think, they look like a tree! A beautiful little oak you can fry up like a steak and eat.
There are plenty of cauliflower steaks out there on the internet, but I'm partial to this recipe from farm-to-table genius Dan Barber -- true to his mission, it's the fullest celebration of cauliflower's talents.
He sears the steaks in a little vegetable oil, salt, and pepper and finishes roasting them in the oven, which gives them a deep brown crust. The remains of the cauliflower becomes florets that are simmered till soft in water and milk, then blitzed into a weightless white cloud.
He uses every part of the buffalo, as they say, and adds almost nothing to distract you. The cauliflower's sweet, subtle flavors are unobscured; its textures are at their best. He brings together the nutty crisped edges you get from roasting, and the unearthly creaminess of a purée (remember, whipping up cauliflower's natural pectin turns it creamy even without dairy).
Of course, you could just make one part of this recipe or the other. If you wanted to stick with the steaks and top them with olive relish or gremolata, I for one have no problem keeping a tupperware of squeaky florets in the fridge for a satisfyingly punishing snack.
But there is something deeply appealing about slashing through your slab of cauliflower, and plunging it into the downy bed of puree -- like a chicken-fried steak surrendering to its cream gravy.
The Genius Desserts cookbook is here! With more than 100 of the most beloved and talked-about desserts of our time (and the hidden gems soon to join their ranks) this book will make you a local legend, and a smarter baker to boot.
I'm an ex-economist, ex-Californian who moved to New York to work in food media in 2007. Dodgy career choices aside, I can't help but apply the rational tendencies of my former life to things like: recipe tweaking, digging up obscure facts about pizza, and deciding how many pastries to put in my purse for "later."