Il ritorno del cavolofiore, or "cauliflower returns."

As I sit here NOT doing my Italian homework, I think back to last November, when I did a post on cauliflower (it's in November 28, for those interested in doing research). And as the seasons , like the wheel of dharma, turn, we're back to the same things we had in November of last year.
That should surprise no one, but it always amazes me when people say something like "oh, cauliflower. I had that two days ago."

Well, maybe you did. But as Madonna said "use your imagination, that's what it's for." If there were only one way to use a vegetable, or a fruit, we wouldn't be using it anymore. So if you like a particular vegetable, or fruit, read about it, pay attention, ask in restaurants, and all of a sudden, your one recipe will become 5, or even 10.

So it goes for cauliflower and I. As I wrote last year, this used to be a vegetable I despised. Today, it's not up t here with fava beans and asparagus, or tomatoes and eggplants, but I like it well enough. But I didn't have enough recipes to do things with it, so I made purees, and I made soup. Soup, and purees. And then one day, I read a piece about a Sicilian pasta dish with cauliflower. Off and running was I.

Sicilians use cauliflower a LOT. That kind of surprises people, but it's true. It's a staple on the winter table, in some way or form. In soup, in salads (yup. We got it a lot, and I hated it), as a side vegetable, and in this pasta preparation.

When you see a sweet item, like raisins or currants in a main dish, think Southern Italy. That's almost always where it comes from. The "migration" of culinary ideas was such that much of the cooking of the Middle East (by this, I mean Syria, Saudi Arabia, and so forth), found a way to Sicily. You will see this in cannoli which, if you think about it, has more in common with Middle Eastern desserts than with Italian ones. Also cassata, which is so involved and ornate that it, too, says Middle East, not Italy.

No question that Sicilians have the "sweetest tooth" of all Italians. In this dish, the sweet is modified by the salty and the vegetable flavors, and the result is something that is surprising but also wonderful.

You'll see the use of toasted breadcrumbs in this dish. A word on that, that always makes me tear up. There is a saying in Italy, that you spend one year in Purgatory, for every crumb of bread you waste. It's a good idea, if you think about it, encouraging us not to waste. But what it also means is that there was always bread in the house of some kind, be it stale or fresh.

And sometimes, that is All there was. And breadcrumbs took the place of cheese, when there was no money for grating cheese.

It happened all too often when I was growing up, and Nana resorted to toasted breadcrumbs for pasta, for soup, for coatings on vegetables. We LOVED the toasted breadcrumb pasta, and we always wondered why she cried when she was serving it. Now, when I see that kind of pasta in a restaurant, I'm torn. First, because I still love it. Second, because I can't bring myself to spend 10 dollars on a plate that cost pennies to make, and third, because the emotion of remembering Nana is overwhelming.

She never made this dish. I think she really didn't like capers. You can leave them out if you don't. You can also leave out the pine nuts, and you can substitute raisins for currants. But make the dish. Use the best olive oil you can find.

First, break up a head of cauliflower into florets, and then break up the florets even more. You want VERY small pieces. Cook these in a big pot of salted water. Be generous with the salt here. Cook the cauliflower PAST al dente. Drain it, and put the cauliflower aside.

Meanwhile, put about three tablespoons of capers preserved in salt in a bowl with a few cups of water. Let them sit there while the rest of the cooking goes on

Get a big pan out. Dry, that is, with NO oil, add about a quarter cup of pine nuts, and fry them at low heat. Shake the pan every now and then. When you begin to smell the nuts, pour them out into a bowl, and put it aside. Now add about a quarter cup of olive oil (by the way, that's only four tablespoons). Then add half to 2/3 of a cup of breadcrumbs. You can use the packaged stuff, but use unflavored. Heat this until the crumbs begin to brown. Then take them off and put them aside. Raise the heat, and add a bit more olive oil - maybe another quarter cup. Add the cauliflower, and pan fry it until it begins to brown some. Then toss in the bread crumbs, the pine nuts, about a third of a cup of raisins or currants, and then drain the capers and add them too. Let the whole thing sit for a couple of minutes and then stir it together to mix everything well.

You can put this aside while you cook up a pound of pasta, or you can cook the pasta simultaneously. The Italians out t here will know that for this, you need a chunky pasta. Rigatoni is good, so is orecchiete, or my own favorite, just because it sounds so "right," "strozzapretti," which is a priest strangler. The pasta is so called because , legend has it, the priest was so greedy he choked to death on it.

Served him right.

Sicilians like to cook the pasta just past aldente, and you should do that here, too. You don't have to, but somehow, the flavors work better when the pasta is softer. Scoop out half a cup of the cooking water, and drain the pasta. Then add the water back, together with the sauce and stir. Finally, just before you serve it, be a spendthrift and pour some really good olive oil over everything.

Don't even think about cheese. But if you do, use pecorino. Parmesan is not used in Sicilian cooking. The land isn't arable enough for cows.

I hope Nana is reading. If she knew that I were eating cauliflower without protesting, and serving it to people, she would smile. And yet again, she'd know she was right