Just before Christmas, Food52’s Kristen Miglore posted a roundup of the 10 most popular genius recipes of 2017. Included among the ten was a recipe for broccoli in an article titled: The Internet Says This Will Be the Best Broccoli of Your Life.
It turns out the recipe is Ina Garten’s, and Adam Roberts of the Amateur Gourmet had written about in 2008, just a month after spotting the recipe in Ina’s newly released Back to Basics. The recipe soon made its way around the web, collecting admirers at every turn.
I apparently have been living under a rock. I made it for the first time last week, and while this roasted broccoli may be old news to many of you, I couldn’t resist sharing it, should any of you also need hoisting from a dark, cold spot. This recipe is excellent and easy. Here’s the gist: roast broccoli florets with sliced garlic at 425ºF until the broccoli’s edges begin to char and the garlic crisps; remove pan from the oven and toss the broccoli with lemon zest, lemon juice, parmesan, and a splash more olive oil; if you’re up for it—I have yet to be—toss with toasted pine nuts and basil, too.
That’s it. As some of you know, I do not have a kitchen* at the moment and am just about ready to call it quits on the dishes-in-the-basement-utility-sink-followed-by-rinse-in-the-bathtub routine. But knowing the repercussions of even simple cooking endeavors can’t keep me from making this broccoli: I’ve made it three times in my portable Waring oven on two mini sheet pans in the past week because it just tastes so darn good right now—it’s just what I’m craving after many weeks of indulging.
Friends, hi, how are you? Did you survive the holidays? Have you made resolutions? Mine are mostly cliché—eat vegetables, stop drinking, do yoga, learn how to Instant Pot—but also genuine. Another goal of mine this year is to bake with more locally milled and stone-milled flours. In the fall of 2016, I took a baking class in the Finger Lakes at Wide Awake Bakery, and then I read Dan Barber’s The Third Plate, and most recently I’ve been listening to Modernist Breadcrumbs, and well, I have thoughts! Looking forward to discussing. But first: broccoli (and cauliflower and kale and lentils).
What would we do without microplanes? No, seriously, what would we do?
*I don’t have a kitchen … but I have painted walls and almost have a floor! Woohoo!
Original recipe calls for toasted pine nuts and basil, both of which sound delicious. I left them out mostly to simplify the recipe especially since I don’t have a kitchen, but I’m not sure I’d make the effort in the future. Time will tell.
Also, I’ve cut the portions back, to accommodate my little oven, so if you wish to make more — the original recipe calls for 4 to 5 lbs. of broccoli — visit either of the recipes linked to above.
- 2 lbs broccoli, from 3 to 4 small heads
- 2 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced
- extra-virgin olive oil
- kosher salt
- freshly ground black pepper
- zest from one lemon
- freshly squeezed lemon juice
- freshly grated Parmesan cheese—I microplane my parmesan and use about a heaping half cup, which weighs less than 1 ounce
- sea salt, such as Maldon, for finishing
- Heat the oven to 425° F.
- Cut the broccoli into florets. Place on a sheet pan large enough to hold them in a single layer. Toss the garlic on the broccoli and drizzle with 3 tablespoons olive oil. Sprinkle with a teaspoon of kosher salt and pepper to taste. Toss to coat evenly. Spread into a single layer. Roast for 20 to 25 minutes, until the broccoli is crisp-tender and the tips of some of the florets are browned.
- Remove the broccoli from the oven and immediately toss with the lemon zest, the juice from half a lemon, and the parmesan. Taste. Add a drizzle more olive oil if the broccoli seems dry or tastes too sharp; add more fresh lemon if it needs more bite. Add a sprinkling of sea salt if it simply needs more seasoning. Add pepper to taste. Add more parmesan if you wish. In short: season to taste 🙂
- Category: Side Dish
- Method: Oven
- Cuisine: American
Keywords: roasted, broccoli, lemon, garlic, parmesan