Good morning, or afternoon, or evening… I am really not sure. I have been in Tokyo for the last few days and my sleep is all over the place.

It’s okay, though, because there are so many attractions - so much of everything: entertaining, beautiful, delicious, bizarre - that I hardly miss my sleep.

I am loving the famous cherry blossoms, but even more so, I love how much everyone immerses themselves in them: picnicking in their shade, partying, nighttime viewings under illuminated trees. And the snacks! Kitkats, cans of Coke, and an incredible sakura ice cream - made with rich local milk - I had at the Calm Coffee Roasters stand in Yanaka Ginza (a charming little shopping street you should definitely visit if you find yourself in Tokyo).

I’ve had sushi, sashimi, ramen and plenty of soba with tempura. Seen so much plastic food and counted 1471 cookie cutters.

What I haven’t had much of are vegetables. None at all, actually. And I do miss them.

So I am finding veg comfort again in my favourite family of vegetables: brassicas. Mustardy, brooding, and more present in my kitchen when not on holiday than any other.

Brassicas have strong opinions on how they’d like to be cooked - and the quickest way to fall out with them is too much water. Boiling, steaming, anything that involves submerging them and walking away.

What they want is heat. A very hot oven, a screaming pan, a grill. That’s when they become sweet at the edges, a little smoky, deeply savoury - without losing that mustardy character that makes them so distinctly themselves.

There are caveats, of course. But as a starting point, it’ll serve you well.

The full family (ish)

Broccoli - I covered most of the basics in my broccoli newsletter a couple of weeks ago. I tend to use anchovies, soy, chilli or miso when cooking with it, but there are so many other ways too. Like our broccoli frittata with green harissa, or Rachel Roddy’s simple broccoli pasta.

Cabbage - As I said last week, cabbage is one of the most versatile members of the brassica family. Raw, it’s crunchy and fresh and takes a sharp dressing beautifully (like our yuzu-soaked seaweed and red cabbage slaw); separate the leaves, cook low and slow, and it becomes silky; or shred it, and it becomes the starting point for any fritters you like (kimchi and sweet potato fritters!).

Cauliflower - Possibly the vegetable I’ve written about most. Roasted whole or in large chunks it becomes something almost meaty (see our Cauliflower roasted in chilli butter in FLAVOUR); shaved or crumbled raw it’s an entirely different thing. One of the most indulgent recipes to come out of our kitchen has been our curried cauliflower filo pie. You can go any way you like with it.

Cavolo nero - Dark, mineral, and so useful. It needs fat and time - slow-wilted in olive oil, braised low with the stems still on, or cut into ribbons and worked into a braise. Today’s Roasted cavolo nero with coriander and cumin yoghurt is a new go-to side dish when friends are coming over. The recipe I come back to always, though, is Russell Norman’s ribollita from Brutto. Norman was one of the most big-hearted presences in the food world, and this recipe is very him. Make a big pot!

Kale - More forgiving than cavolo nero and more versatile. Massage it raw, roast it until crisp, blanch and blend it into pasta or rice (like in my Baked kale rice with halloumi). Mainly, I like to use it as the body of a salad (see our Kale and tahini caesar salad with za’atar, chickpeas and roasted grapes).

Kohlrabi - Somewhere between an apple, a radish and a cucumber. Shave it thin and eat it raw, or roast it in wedges until the cut sides caramelise. Our kohlrabi slaw with sesame and ginger works well as a side to almost anything. My colleague Christina has reintroduced it into the Test Kitchen so we’ve been cooking with it a lot.

Brussels sprouts - They have a reputation problem, and it’s entirely the fault of boiling. Roast them, char them, shred them raw - they’re nutty and sweet and a little earthy. I lean towards brown butter and chilli and vinegar. I went into this properly in the Sprouts newsletter last November.

Spring greens - Quick cooking only. A hot pan, a little oil, a minute or two - that’s all they need. Garlic, olive oil, lemon, chilli work well (I usually go for our Garlicky greens with fried black chickpeas and tahini soy sauce).

Pak choi - The stems and leaves cook at different speeds, which sounds obvious but is easy to forget. Stir-fry it, char it halved, blanch it quickly. Sesame, ginger, soy, oyster sauce work very well. I rely on Fuchsia Dunlop for quick pak choi recipes - check out Every Grain of Rice.

Mustard greens - Peppery and a bit wild. The bite is right there on the surface and it’s meant to be used, not cooked away. Wilt them into dal, pickle them, stir-fry them fast. Meera Sodha has an old mustard greens recipe that I love.

I know I’ve rushed through these - but it felt wrong to leave any of them out.

Two of my most-used brassicas today. Hispi first - here with a coconut and turmeric sauce - which you might know as sweetheart or pointed cabbage if you’re in North America. And cavolo nero, roasted and topped with a coriander and cumin yoghurt. Both work well alongside meat, fish, or as part of a bigger vegetable spread this spring.

Hispi cabbage with coconut and turmeric sauce

Mary San Pablo has joined the Test Kitchen, and she’s been introducing us to more Filipino-style dishes. This one’s inspired by ginataan - a whole range of dishes cooked in coconut milk. The sauce combines ginger, turmeric and spring onions, flavours you find across different ginataan recipes. Make sure to use coconut cream rather than milk - it has more body.

Note on hispi (née sweetheart / pointed cabbage): Cutting the cabbage into quarters gives you a good variation of textures - soft and steamed at one end, charred at the other. If you can’t find hispi, savoy or even cauliflower, both work well. Regular white cabbage would be too dense.

Hispi cabbage recipe

Roasted cavolo nero with coriander and cumin yoghurt

Cavolo nero’s natural creases and crannies are made for collecting sauce - here a sharp yoghurt dressing that works nicely against the leaves’ natural bitterness. Tossed with grilled shallots, it makes a good side dish, or add some cooked wild or brown rice to turn it into something more substantial. It keeps well the next day too.

Serves 4-6 | Prep 15 mins | Cook 25 mins

Ingredients