In this charmless era where the murmurs of backlash begin to brew before a rising entity has time to be completely perceived, let alone overrated, I do enjoy a good slow-burn image rehabilitation. When deserved. In the case of the blameless brussels sprout, that metonymic representative of a small child’s innate suspicion of greens, that dinner-as-punishment vegetable, it’s unsurprisingly much more palatable when roasted or generally scorched over high heat in some fashion than boiled into limp and pallid reprehensibility.

And when you add agrodolce and a snowfall of crumbled feta? The brussels sprout is not only rehabilitated, it’s utterly impervious to the backlash cycle.

Many have pondered this Great Sprout Shift though no one can tell me who first roasted one; but I guess that’s how recipes develop and evolve when there’s no direct attributable source — ambiently absorbed through the air, like invisible strains of wild yeast. I didn’t invent roasted Brussels sprouts, I certainly didn’t invent agrodolce, that variable Sicilian sweet and sour condiment that accessorises these sprouts; but somehow I know about them both and how to make them without looking anything up. Nevertheless, thank goodness we now know, through osmosis, about roasting brussels sprouts: the otherwise vile brassica turns nutty and almost sweet as its flat underbelly leans against the sheet pan; the tenderly furled leaves rippling with toasty intensity, the bitterness entirely gone.

Adding raisins and vinegar to your brussels sprouts might feel like flying too close to the sun, but walk with me here. The agrodolce is a blisteringly flavoursome concoction, with savoury garlic and red onion, rich, fragrant fennel, rosemary, and pine nuts, boisterous lemon and red wine vinegar, and the welcome sweet relief of heat-swollen sultanas and honey. Like a jigsaw puzzle, each ingredient connects to the next one, making perfect sense as a whole. The fierce sourness against the oil-slicked, nutty sprouts is wonderful, with the sweetness kicking out any last remnants of bitterness and the fennel and rosemary providing intriguing bass notes. The feta lends luxury and a further textural element as well as creamy bursts of salinity; you could leave it out but I’m personally quite wedded to its presence. As it stands you don’t need to use much.

I am utterly enamoured with this recipe, which started off delicious and went stratospheric after a day’s sitting in the fridge. Something about it suggests Christmas side dish in an instant-classic, non-negotiable kind of way; you could also use it to liven up an otherwise plain and unsurprising dinner or serve it on a table of small plates to share. It’s just symphonically good, with as many layers of flavour as the sprouts have leaves: I urge you to make it. And though all these together might be gilding the lily too much, vinegar-wise, I feel this recipe has a certain affinity with my Cauliflower Marbella, my Pasta with Fried, Marinated Zucchini, and my Pickled Fried Cauliflower and Marinated Tofu Salad, all of which I recommend with equal vigour.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Agrodolce and Feta

This tastes magnificent and looks pretty fantastic, too. A riotously sharp and salty yet well-balanced and elegant side dish that seems to hit its stride after about eight to twelve hours, so if you have a little run-up time before serving, I recommend using it. Recipe by myself, although the agrodolce is a composite of various recipes I’ve seen throughout my life.

• 400g brussels sprouts
• 1 red onion
• 2 fat garlic cloves
• 3 tablespoons pine nuts
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
• the zest and juice of a lemon – about 1/4 cup of the latter
• 2 tablespoons sultanas
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 tablespoon fresh rosemary leaves
• salt, to taste
• 50g feta (you can use vegan feta here of course)

1: Set your oven to 200C, and halve the brussels sprouts lengthwise, trimming any stubby ends. Lay them, cut-side down, on a baking paper-lined sheet pan or very shallow baking dish, and roast for 15 minutes or until tender and browned on their flat undersides.

2: While the sprouts are roasting, very finely dice the red onion and two garlic cloves, and set aside for a minute. Toast the three tablespoons of pine nuts in a dry frying pan until golden-browned and fragrant. Tip onto a plate or bowl and then in the same pan, heat the two tablespoons of olive oil and gently fry the diced red onion and garlic cloves until softened. Add the teaspoon of fennel seeds and stir for about thirty seconds.

3: Pour in the 1/4 cup each of red wine vinegar and lemon juice along with the two tablespoons of sultanas, tablespoon of honey and the lemon zest. Let it all bubble up, stirring to combine, then remove from the heat and stir in the reserved pine nuts and the tablespoon of rosemary.

4: Add salt to taste, bearing in mind the feta’s saltiness. By this point the brussels sprouts should be nicely brown and tender in the oven. Remove the tray of sprouts and, if serving like this, spoon the agrodolce over and crumble over the 50g feta. Otherwise, transfer this to a bowl and stir in the feta.

Serve right away, but it’s at its finest about eight hours after making. Store any leftovers in the fridge. Serves 4 as a side dish.

music lately:

Germ Free Adolescents by X-Ray Spex. The way the tremolo-ish guitar sputters along like an aural flipbook; Poly Styrene’s somehow wistful, cracked bellow; the wonky horns that come in near the end, if this was one particle more technically proficient the whole thing would be ruined.

Oh What a World by Rufus Wainwright. I delightedly caught a live recording of his on the Concert channel, reminding me of this spectacular interpolation of Bolero by Ravel and his crisp yet insouciant voice billowing like expensive underwear on a washing line caught in a stiff breeze.

Country Girl by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, it’s sort of bombastically dramatic and persistently slow-moving at the same time; come to think of it there’s just enough drama that Rufus Wainwright could probably do a decent cover of it. But who could forgo those harmonies!