balsamic braised brussels sprouts

Part of the reason I decided to kick off the blog again this year is that I've really fallen off the cooking train recently.  I'd like to say it's because I'm busy, but I hate that excuse, because (pretty much) everyone can find 30 minutes a day to cook healthy, fulfilling meals for themselves and their loved ones.  So I will blame it on the weather.  Mother Nature has been so fickle recently, and so have I.  Thank you, weather, for confusing me and making me not want to cook anything.

So, because a girl's gotta eat even if she doesn't wanna cook (and a girl can't eat out every meal, or else she'll be fat and broke), I've been eating a ton of brussels sprouts.  I have plowed through at least a pound a week by myself since January 1.  Kind of horrifying, but totally awesome. 

The inspiration for this brussels sprouts recipe comes from Mike Isabella's Graffiato.  Man, do I love this restaurant.  Definition of fat and happy.  The menu boasts succulent oven-roasted meats, divine pastas (really, if I am going to make it through till Easter, I must stop thinking about pasta), innovative pizzas (though I don't care for the crust - not that it matters now, anyhow) and unbelievable......vegetables? 

Absolutely.  One of the areas where Graffiato shines is on its vegetable menu.  Not too long ago, I stopped in for dinner with a couple of girlfriends.  After settling into our booth and ordering prosecco on tap (yes, we're those airheads who are completely stupified by a keg that dispenses bubbly), Whitney mentioned that the brussels sprouts were not to be missed.  Since Whitney is generally predisposed to more carnivorous fare, I figured these brussels sprouts had to be a work of the gods themselves.  And divine, they are.  The crispy, roasted leaves are served with bits of scrambled egg white and perched atop a liquified, buttery egg-yolk emulsion, providing a textural contrast that leaves you confused in the best way possible.  The flavor profile is equally complex - the intrinsic bitterness of the sprouts contrasts sharply with salty pancetta and sweet maple syrup.  Even Brittany, who has recently begun adding green things to her repetoire, liked them!  It's safe to say that these brussels sprouts are a game-changer for anyone who has been prejudiced against the little brassica.

Unfortunately Graffiato's brussels are neither healthy nor Lent-friendly (thanks to the maple syrup).  However, I'm happy to say that I've lightened up the recipe while retaining its flavor, giving you all of the decadence but none less of the guilt.  I cut back on the pig fat and the oil, and cut out the maple syrup entirely, opting for balsamic vinegar to give it that subtle sweetness.  I add just a hint of grated parmesan if I feel like it, because brussels are better with a little dusting of cheese.  My brussels are pan-seared and then gently braised, and while I am not privy to Mr. Isabella's cooking method, I imagine he uses a similar double-cooking process to give the brussels their crisp outer leaves, while leaving the insides to melt in your mouth. 

If I may delude myself a bit, I'd even say my dish is appropriate for daily frequent consumption.   (Yeah, all the brussels I've eaten?  I'm eating them almost exclusively this way.)  Top the brussels sprouts with a poached egg and you have an Isabella-inspired complete meal; leave out the egg and you have a delicious side.

A few notes:
1. While you will never see me eat an entire strip of bacon (I don't like the texture, saltiness, or overwhelming richness), I do enjoy the smoky, fatty flavor that this little piggy imparts on the brussels.  I've pared back on the pancetta here, and I dice it a little bit bigger than usual so I can fish it out before I eat it.  (Relax, I don't waste it - I give it to Whitney or save it for soup.)  Feel free to up the portion if you are so inclined, and if you can't find pancetta, a strip of bacon is a perfectly reasonable substitute.  I've even used little salamis in a pinch.
2.  Go easy on the salt.  You only need a dash to leech the water out of the vegetables - any more and it will be way too salty with the addition of the pancetta, parmesan, and broth.
3.  You can either babysit the brussels in the broth while they cook, or you can cover the pan and let them caramelize (there's that word again) while you do other things.  Because I am incapable of concentrating on one thing at a time, I usually go this route and just make sure to check on them once or twice, tossing if necessary.  It will take a little longer to cook this way, though.  The brussels are done when all the liquid is absorbed.

Balsamic braised brussels sprouts
inspired by Graffiato and loosely adapted from smitten kitchen

Serves 3 to 4 as a side, 2 as main

1 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 pounds medium-sized brussels sprouts, washed, trimmed, and halved along the stem
Salt and pepper
2 ounces pancetta or thick bacon in small dice
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 onion
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
3/4 cup of rich chicken or vegetable broth
grated parmesan cheese, as desired
egg, poached, fried, or soft boiled (one per serving, optional)

1.  Heat butter and olive oil in a large cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat, until foamy.  Add brussels sprouts, halved-side down and sprinkle with salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Sauté, until lightly browned, about 5 to 7 minutes.
2.  Reduce heat slightly and add diced pancetta, shallots, and garlic.  Sauté further, tossing frequently, until sprouts are well browned and softened slightly, pancetta is crisp, and garlic is fragrant, about 5 to 7 minutes more. 
3.  Increase heat to medium-high, add balsamic vinegar and stock, and cook, tossing frequently, until sprouts are glazed and tender, about 12-15 minutes; add more stock if needed.  (Alternatively, cover and let cook 15-20 minutes, tossing every 5 minutes)
4.  Transfer to a serving platter and top with grated parmesan cheese, and, if desired, serve each portion with a runny egg.

Brussels sprouts haters, I dare you to try this and still tell me you hate brussels sprouts.