Have you heard of the five monkeys experiment? It’s an apocryphal demonstration of how behaviours and beliefs can be adopted and perpetuated, long after the OG reasons for them fade. I’m pretty sure they could’ve just used humans and brussels sprouts as a metaphor instead.
Like most veg of medieval origin, brassicas, of which sprouts are a baby-cabbage-y-version, were grown for hardiness and weather-resistance. As a result, the flavour skewed bitter, and the texture, tough and oftentimes woody.
To help break this down, cooks would boil the bejesus out of them, inadvertently tripping the sulfuric (read: farty) compounds activated during digestion. So unholy was the stench that the superstitious cooks cut crosses into the bases of each sprout to ward off any evil spirits hiding between the leaves.
While our beliefs around haunted sprouts might’ve changed, we’re still cross-hatching them for no reason, we’re still overboiling and underseasoning them, and as a result the way your grandparents felt about brussels sprouts is probably the way your kids still do.
These are all behaviours that can and should be actively unlearned, lest we miss out on the bananas up the ladder, so to speak.
Brussels sprouts have had a glow-up, and they’re ready for a second chance. For one thing, they don’t taste the same as Nan and Pop’s because they’re not the same. About 30 years ago, a Dutch scientist named Hans van Doorn (that’s DooRn not DooM) discovered that the flavonoids (flavour compounds) sinigrin and progoitrin were responsible for the bitterness in brussels sprouts, and are also found in mustard seeds and horseradish. Through a concentrated breeding program, Van Doorn was able to prioritise higher-yield, sweeter sprouts that were lower in these compounds.
For another thing, we’ve got a better understanding of how sprouts like to be touched for maximum pleasure. The key is to work fast, either crisping the sprouts in a hot oven or air fryer, or leaving the sprouts raw and “cooking” them with acid instead of heat.
I love burning halved, oiled sprouts in a searing-hot oven for 10-12 minutes, or shredding and rubbing with lemon juice and salt flakes as the base of a slaw.
Another way to indemnify yourself against overcooking a sprout is to par-cook and then finish them in the pan, as I do below.
If better technique is not enough to get you or your household’s eaters over the line, I still have a magic bullet or three up my sleeve. Thanks to science writers such as Harold McGee, we now have a clearer understanding of how other ingredients can mitigate bitterness; chiefly, salty things, fatty things and sweet things.
Salt helps to smooth out bitterness and render a “creamier” experience of a bitter vegetable; the fats in oil, butter or schmaltzy/porky things offer a rich foil where the bitterness creates a lovely interplay, and adding sweetness offers even more dimension.
I’m deploying all three in the below, which you can serve as a side. It can also stand alone, bulked up with black beluga lentils or green lentils.
Kaiserfleisch is German-style smoked pork belly, with a thicker, more decadent cut and structure, earning its title “royal meat” or “emperor’s meat”. If you can’t find kaiserfleisch, any thick-cut bacon or pancetta will hit the spot here. You could even ask your butcher to lop you off a 1cm-thick slice of leg ham.
You could also choose to skip the pork entirely and go for some fried shiitake mushrooms instead. Just wet fry them and add some extra oil to the pan for extra schmaltziness.
I’ve used a combo of green and purple sprouts for extra visual appeal. Sometimes the novelty factor can help to increase willingness to try a new veg, handy when cooking for kids for example. There isn’t too much difference between the two – the purples just have anthocyanin (purple pigment) isolated, captured and bred into the varieties, as you might find in purple cabbage, which can deepen the colour and flavour slightly.
Buttery brussels sprouts with kaiserfleisch and apple – recipe
Serves 4-6 as a side
200g kaiserfleisch, cubed (or 1cm-thick piece of ham, or thick-cut bacon or pancetta)
600g brussels sprouts, trimmed and quartered
1 tangy apple (I use pink lady but granny smith would also work)
5-6 dried juniper berries, crushed
50g butter
Salt and freshly cracked pepper
Pop kaiserfleisch into a cold pan with a splash of water and fry on medium-high heat to help render out the fat and colour the cut sides.
Meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to the boil, then drop in the quartered sprouts for two to three minutes (you’ll know they’re ready when they’re vibrantly green).
While you wait, cut the apple into 1cm cubes (skin on) and crush the juniper berries in a mortar and pestle or with the base of an olive oil bottle, then drop them both into the pan with the kaiserfleisch and crank the heat. Sizzling is good!
Scoop the boiled sprouts from the pot, give the sieve/strainer a good tap to shake off excess moisture, then dump them into the pan with the kaiserfleisch and apples, drop in the butter and swish about to melt.
Keep the pan sizzling for the sprouts to absorb the flavours, then switch off and taste for seasoning, adding salt and freshly cracked pepper as needed. Serve with sausages and mustard. To take it from side to main, add a tin of lentils – rinsed and drained – before you add the butter and swish them about to warm through in the pan, then switch off the heat and serve with crusty bread.
