Fall can be foreboding enough, what with its gray mornings, fleeting light, rain-slicked streets, and blown-out umbrellas. When the world outside is fierce, the last thing Seattlest wants to face is a challenge in our own refrigerator, that most promising of places. But for all too many of us, the season seems to present one ominous edible after another, a whole sequence of fearsome vegetables from Brussels sprouts to cabbage, cauliflower, kale, parsnips, rutabagas, and turnips. Never mind the fact that each of them is easily and deliciously tamed with proper, loving care; at the close of these ever-shortening days, it can be hard to muster the enthusiasm to make new friends where fruits and vegetables are concerned. But we’d be woefully mistaken to close the door so quickly, especially when there’s a head of cauliflower in the crisper drawer.

This pale, misunderstood, seemingly stodgy crucifer is capable of much more than we’ve given it credit for. For decades, if not longer, it’s been relegated to the steamer basket or the boiling pot, arriving on the plate pasty and limp, often doused with cheese and only occasionally enjoyed, much less savored. In fact, a well-meaning and otherwise sensible friend recently told us, “The world would be a better place without cauliflower.” Seattlest argues that the world would be a better place with a little more cauliflower, and we venture that our friend, were he to get a mouthful of the silky, caramelized, crisp-edged florets that regularly grace our autumn table, would no doubt nod his full-mouthed agreement.

Straight from the farm and tinged with earthy sweetness, cauliflower is a delicious thing, perfect for high-heat roasting. It’s simple magic: an entire head is cut from top to stem into thin slices, tossed liberally with olive oil, and slipped into a hot oven, where heat and oil work quickly together to tease out the vegetable’s natural sugars. Its flesh becomes satiny, nearly translucent, golden here and brown there at its frilly edges, with a flavor that reminds Seattlest of a very good French fry. Caramelized cauliflower tastes the way warmth itself would taste, if we could capture it on a fork: toasty, comforting, and nearly impossible to stop eating.

Fall may have landed fiercely on our doorstep, but on the plate, it’s surprisingly easy to tame.

Caramelized Cauliflower

1 head cauliflower (Seattlest especially loves the green variety from Willie Green’s Organic Farm, available at local farmers’ markets)
Olive oil
Finely ground sea salt

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Wash and dry the cauliflower well. Place the head of cauliflower on a cutting board, and slice it vertically, top-down, into ¼-inch slices. You’ll only get about 4 intact slices; the rest will be a hash of cauliflower bits. Use your hands to toss the cauliflower in a large bowl with plenty of olive oil (for a 2- to 2 ½-pound cauliflower, you’ll need 2-3 tablespoons of oil) and a generous dash of salt. Spread the cauliflower in a single layer on a heavy sheet pan—or two; you don’t want to crowd the pan—and roast it until golden to deep brown and caramelized, turning the bits and slices once or twice, about 25-30 minutes. Taste, and add salt if necessary. Serve.

Yield: About two servings

*Don’t be shy about trying variations. For example, add to the basic recipe about ½ teaspoon garam masala; ¼ teaspoon curry powder; a can of chickpeas, drained; and a red onion, peeled, quartered, and sliced into ½-inch strips. You may need a touch more oil. Roast, and serve topped with a runny-yolked poached egg.