Don't Sweat the Aubergine

). When stalks and leaves are ready, mix them, add more salt if necessary, and pepper and nutmeg if you like; put them in the dish. Pour over enough double cream, or more if you like, to cover. Grate Parmesan on top. (Or cover with Parmesan, or some other grated cheese, only.) Put in a gas mark 6/200°C oven until bubbling, with a cheesy crust: about 15 to 20 minutes.
    Brussel tops are my favourite winter greens, although they can taste rather dry. Wash, slice and steam them (about 5 minutes); toss with plenty of butter, salt and pepper.
Carrots
    Sliced carrots soften faster than do batons, for some reason. Boiled and then drained, they lose not only their crunchiness but also their sweetness and colour. They are dreary fare.
    I have never looked back since discovering a recipe for carrots in Vichy water, even though I rarely use Vichy water when I follow it. Peel the carrots, then cut them horizontally into three or four pieces; then cut these pieces vertically. You want fork-sized pieces – ones that are single mouthfuls; cut them vertically again if necessary. Put them in a pan large enough to hold them in no more than a double layer. Pour in water to come level with the top of them, or just under – they will emit their own water. Add a knob of butter, but no salt, which might make them too soft. Turn the heat under the pan to maximum, and cook, uncovered, until the water evaporates and the carrots are coated in the butter. (Be careful that the butter doesn’t start to burn on the dry pan.) Turn down the heat, and gently stir the carrots in the butter. Add salt; scatter over parsley if you like.
    Or (and this is now my preferred method): cut the carrots as above, and put into a pan with 1cm water and the butter. Bring to the boil and simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Uncover the pan, turn up the heat, and cook until the water evaporates and the carrots are coated in butter.
Cauliflower
    Choose cauliflowers with white, tightly packed, firm florets. Don’t cook them whole: some florets will turn mushy before others get tender. Separate the florets and steam them, checking for tenderness after 5 minutes. Like its relatives in the cabbage family, cauliflower will give you a powerful reminder of the horrors of institutional food if it’s not fresh, or if it’s cooked for too long.
    I like cauliflower cheese with roast chicken. Make a cheese sauce ( see here – about 300ml would be about right for a medium-sized cauli) with plenty of black pepper, and also some nutmeg, to offset the bland qualities of the vegetable; add too 1/2 tsp Dijon, or 1/4 tsp English, mustard. Steam the florets, put into a warm dish, pour over the sauce, scatter grated cheese on top, and brown under the grill. I sometimes prepare cauliflower cheese in advance, cover it with foil, and warm it in the oven (gas mark 4/180°C for 20 minutes). In spite of the thickening of the sauce, the skin that forms, and the evaporation that takes place on reheating, it produces a perfectly decent result.
    Cauliflower, or cauliflower mixed with broccoli, makes a good sauce for pasta. It needs a bit of dried chilli, I think; and, if you’re using cauliflower alone, some colour too. Follow the recipe for broccoli with anchovy ( see here ); but, after frying the garlic and melting the tinned anchovies, add 1 dstsp tomato paste (for a sauce for 4), and cook it for a minute before tipping in the steamed cauliflower. You could also add a little saffron, with the liquid in which it soaked (or a sachet of the powdered stuff). Other possible additions: sultanas, softened in water for 15 minutes; pine nuts, toasted gently in a dry saucepan. Crushed tinned sardine could substitute for the anchovy.
Chicory
    The point of chicory, from a culinary angle, is its bitterness. Careful, slow cooking offsets that quality with sweetness; but contact with boiling liquid wrecks the bitter-sweet balance.
    Try this gratin. Trim the chicory of wilted outer leaves, cut in half vertically, sprinkle with salt, and put, cut side down, in a greased gratin dish large enough to hold the pieces in a single layer. Cover the dish quite tightly with foil – you may need to wrap it underneath; put in a gas mark 4/180°C oven. After 20 minutes, have a look: if the chicory is in danger of sticking and burning, put a little water or wine into the dish. Turn the chicory over, and cook for another 20 minutes, or until tender (it might take up to an hour). Take out of the oven, and pour over a small