Pat Ernst Dugan loves to cook, eat, travel and learn about regional foods. She's been doing it for 18 years.

Dugan, of Corning, shares her culinary knowledge with readers in a weekly food column. "Foodly Yours" covers cooking, dining and Finger Lakes foods, from locally grown produce, cooking gadgets and tools to a a new recipe each week, proposed by Dugan to be "quick-fix, limited ingredient and realistic."

Nobody is neutral about Brussels sprouts
Give them another try with these cooking, flavoring suggestions.

Pat Ernst Dugan
September 22, 2005
Ever associate Brussels sprouts with Brussels, Belgium? Well, you should!

These much-maligned and oft' praised minicabbage-head cousins may have been first cultivated in 1587 in Brussels, the capital of Belgium. Two stories recently reminded me of the international Brussels sprout conundrum. I believe the paradox - that is the lovers and the haters and no one-in-between - appears to lie in geography and preparation.

In 2004, Belgium and Canada supplied more than 6 million dollars worth of frozen Brussels sprouts to the United States. So while many of you have been bashing them for years, many silent Brussels sprout groupies are buying them.

Michelle Conners, a frozen fruit and vegetable broker from Rochester, told me this story last week about Belgium Brussels sprouts and Hurricane Katrina.

Michelle was anticipating three container loads of frozen Brussels sprouts (360,000 pounds) to be shipped from Antwerp to New Orleans, with the final destination being a large vegetable processor in the Southeast. Hurricane Katrina forced the shipping line to divert to Houston.

After dealing with customs and the FDA, who typically don't like containers showing up in ports not indicated on the bill of lading, the port of Houston gave Michelle five days (instead of the usual three) to take possession of the Brussels sprouts. If she couldn't find a truck or railcar on which to load the containers, the shipping line would begin to charge rent of $225 per day, per container.

As you might imagine, Brussels sprouts was not the only commodity needing a ride out of town. Obviously, Michelle was concerned whether the frozen sprouts would be maintained at the proper temperatures and whether they would be delivered quickly to her customer. There is no happy ending to report yet, although the containers have been moved to cold storage off the ship.

Fresh Brussels sprouts are best in the fall. Most are cultivated in California and sold in 10-ounce packages or by the pound in supermarket produce aisles. I was reminded by a weekend guest from Ohio of the pleasure of buying Brussels sprouts on the stalk at farmers markets. Actually, she chuckled as she retold the directions of the hostess who invited her and her family to dinner. "Oh, just bring a vegetable." Her choice was to arrive at the neighbors' door with an armful of Brussels sprout stalks.

So if you are faced with this dilemma or if you are willing to give Brussels sprouts another try, the key to today's Brussels sprouts is quick cooking. Their beauty lays in their lemony bright green color, which disappears with longer cooking.

Their mild flavor pairs well with bacon, prosciutto, horseradish, mustard, ginger, brown sugar, apples, lemon, thyme, caramelized onions and butter. So whether you gratin them, stuff them, serve them in hash, in a tart or with pasta, simmer them first in boiling water only five to eight minutes, depending on whether they are frozen or fresh, respectively.

When I cook them fresh, I trim them of dried outside leaves and score the stem end with an "X." I pop them in boiling water with several slices of ginger for eight minutes or until crisp tender. A family favorite option is to toss with melted butter, crispy bacon and chopped cashews. Many chefs also prefer simmering them in chicken broth. Michelle loves sprouts with mustard and brown sugar.

The latest trend in food magazine recipes instructs for shredding or cutting Brussels sprouts into thin strips called a chiffonade and then tossing with nuts and herbs, or as Michelle prefers, with horseradish cream. Such lovely little shreds!

As a term of endearment, French parents call their children "mes petits choux" (my little cabbage heads). So next time you need a dinner vegetable, try these elegant little wonders that have traveled so far to find us!