You won’t want to share this roasted cauliflower

Iam the lone cauliflower eater in my house. Whenever I cook one, it’s all mine, from the tips of the fractal florets to the bottoms of the succulent stems. I’ve been known to devour an entire head in one sitting — in which case it’s not something I serve with dinner. It is dinner — and a satisfying one at that.

Although cauliflower is delightful in many incarnations, my go-to cooking method is roasting the cut-up florets at high heat, which caramelises them, turning them irresistibly golden and floppy. The technique is as straightforward as they come: After oiling the florets and spreading them out on a sheet pan, I blast them at 220C, which browns them deeply, but without charring the edges or setting off the smoke alarm.

The only real variables are the seasonings, and the options are many.

With its sweet, cabbage-like flavour, cauliflower is not exactly a blank canvas of a vegetable. But it can play nicely with others, especially sharp, salty, spicy ingredients, which help highlight its gentler side.

Here, crushed olives, fresh lemon juice, garlic and red-pepper flakes provide the needed fire and tang, while cumin adds an earthy note. Then there’s a thin, lacy coating of Parmesan that bakes up into a crisp wafer surrounding each floret. A little like fricos — those brittle northern Italian cheese crackers that are so fantastic with a Negroni — you’ll be hard pressed not to peel the golden bits off the pan and pop them directly into your mouth. If you’re not sharing, I highly recommend this manoeuvre; do it standing over the pan before adding the olive dressing. Otherwise, summon your willpower and refrain until serving time. Your dinner mates will thank you.

To get the right texture, look for straw-like shredded Parmesan rather than the powdery ground cheese. It will give you the heartiest, crunchiest texture. But the ground kind will work in a pinch.

Because this cauliflower is meant to be a main course rather than a side dish, I add a generous amount of diced pancetta to the pan, which melts its brawny drippings on the florets. This said, if you’re looking for a vegetarian dish, or something a little lighter, just leave the pork out.

Then pile the burnished florets into a bowl. And, if you’re like me, be quietly thrilled that they’re all yours.