Cippolini onions are not often seen in stores, so a sighting is a significant event for me. Cippolinis are delicate and sweet, small and savoury, lending themselves to caramelization in the oven and a bath in a bold sweet/sour agrodolce syrup. A large bag of cippolinis I just picked up at Costco was soon swimming in a fragrant pool of balsamic vinegar, olive oil and honey, augmented with chopped garlic and some perky peperoncino. Soon enough, the onions shrink down and the loose dressing boils down to fit a little more tightly around each orb, coating the onions with a thick, luscious glaze spiked with complex notes of acidic vinegar and vegetal sweetness. The aromas are absolutely intoxicating as this dish perfumes your kitchen with its heady scent.

I love to serve these onions hot from the oven with roasted meat or strewn alongside some hearty spaghetti Bolognese. The leftovers, cold from the fridge, are excellent in sandwiches of cold meat and cheese, or eaten on a plate with some dense country bread, dill pickles and an assortment of pates.

The first task is to peel the cippolinis. You can try your hand at doing this with the raw bulbs or give them a quick dip in a pot of boiling water to loosen the skins. Top and tail the onions and place them in a roasting pan that holds them snugly. Drizzle in a glug or two of extra-virgin olive oil, 2 or 3 glugs of balsamic vinegar and a couple of tablespoons of runny honey. Chop as much garlic as you like. I used about 6 large cloves for about 4 cups of onions. Season with salt and pepper to taste as well as a couple of large pinches of peperoncino. Toss everything together well and roast uncovered for about 45 minutes, turning every 12 minutes or so for even browning. If the mixture starts to look dry, add a couple of spoonfuls of water to the pan to prevent scorching. Final product: meltingly tender, golden knobs of sweet/sour/hot/salty onions, glazed and glistening in a thick, hot syrup. Serve hot, warm, cold or anything in between. These are fantastic any way you offer them. They keep very well in the fridge for at least a week.

Roasting is like magic. In goes something ordinary and out comes something extraordinary. Try your hand at more kitchen alchemy:

Warm, spicy, salty - want to know more? I have a snack for you with all those attributes, the humble chickpea kicked up a few notches. If you like to nibble on something fun with friends over drinks, or you wish to add some texture to a pureed soup, this one is for you. Roasted chickpeas work well as a salad component also, perhaps a visual and crunch enhancement to a middle eastern mix of chopped tomatoes, cuces and peppers, doused in a lemon juice/olive oil/ garlic infusion. Or, I can visualize these crunchy, toasty little nuggets sprinkled randomly throughout a Tunisian carrot salad, seductively scented with cumin and cinnamon and speckled with fresh chopped cilantro.

Start with a 15-ounce can of chickpeas and drain them well. Pat them dry with a paper towel. Put these chickpeas in a bowl and toss with a tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil, salt and pepper to taste, finely chopped fresh rosemary and a solid sprinkling of the Moroccan spice ras al hanout (you could substitute curry powder if you like). Feel free to include a large pinch of cayenne pepper for a friendly hit of heat. Place seasoned garbanzos in a single layer onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Roast in a 400 F oven, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes, until hot, browned and crisp. Serve with cold beer or cocktails. A silky pureed lentil soup garnished with a few of these babies will elevate your game.

Roasted chickpeas can be prepared a few hours before a party or a meal and reheated for 5 minutes at 400 F. With fibre, crunch, salt, spice and a comforting warmth, they will become a seductive quick and easy go-to snack.

There is no reason why you couldn't prepare this dish in a skillet, frying the drained, dried chickpeas in olive oil or butter with the spices and flavours of your choosing. Flavour ideas: chopped garlic, orange zest, Mexican chile powder, fresh grated ginger, lime juice. Select your theme and fry the chickpeas over medium heat until golden and crisp.

Looking for more fun nibbles to indulge in over drinks?

I have tried a few versions of roasted fennel and generally find the sweet, tender result quite appealing. But I also find some of the chunks from the outer layers of the bulb stay tough and stringy, the oven not quite rendering them into the gentleness I am seeking. Until I met this fennel dish, meltingly soft, spiked with parmesan cheese and strewn with a crisp, salty topping of roasted prosciutto. If "crisp" and "salty" are emotional hotspots for you, your soul will sing with this rustic Italian dish from matriarch-chef Lidia Bastianich.

The first order of business is the one responsible for the moist tenderness I speak of. You boil your fennel chunks in salted water just until they can be easily pierced with the tip of a knife. After a good draining in a collander, you line the morsels in an oiled baking dish and sprinkle some grated Parmesan cheese, along with salt and pepper, over them. Over this goes slices of San Danielle prosciutto, following the lines of the vegetables. Roast for about 25 minutes and you will be rewarded with a hot, savoury casserole filled with sweet flavour and crisp bacon-like notes. Prosciutto undergoes a fabulous transformation in the oven, darkening, shrinking, and thus giving off a more concentrated hit of its essence.

What makes this dish work so well? The fennel is hot, sweet, juicy and tender. The prosciutto is dry, salty, crisp and meaty. Together they sing a happy song, the blissful conjoining of disparate elements creating a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. It is one of those kitchen mysteries, where flavours play off each other in a particularly harmonious manner.

Roasted Fennel and Prosciutto - adapted from www.lidiasitaly.com

2½ pounds fennel, trimmed and cut in wedges; 2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil; 3 ounces prosciutto, thinly sliced;
½ teaspoon salt; freshly ground pepper; 1 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano, freshly grated.

Bring about 4 litres of water to the boil in a large pot. Drop in the fennel wedges and cook them at a gentle boil for 10 to 15 minutes, just until you can pierce them easily with a sharp knife tip. Lift out the wedges and drain well.

Cut the prosciutto slices crosswise into strips, about 1/4-inch wide.

Set a rack in the middle of the oven; preheat to 350 degrees. Coat the bottom of a 9 by 13 inch baking dish with a splash of olive oil. Lay the fennel wedges in one layer, filling the dish. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle the remaining olive oil over the top. Lay the prosciutto in strips over the fennel, following the direction of the fennel. Finally, sprinkle over the grated cheese, covering the whole dish evenly. Bake the dish for 25 minutes or until the top is crusty and golden and the edges of the prosciutto and fennel are also colored and crisp.

Learn from Lidia!

This is SO easy and SO delicious, I wonder why it took me this long to tackle. I have a few versions of roasted cauliflower, one that involves par-boiling first, but this one is even easier. Simply separate a head of cauliflower into roughly equal sized florets, toss with olive oil, salt and pepper and parmesan cheese and roast in a hot 400 F oven, turning pieces every 15 minutes or so, until deeply and evenly browned and tender, about 40 minutes. The sweetness of the veg sings out like never before, dispelling any memories of sulphurous odours linked to the cauliflower. Vegans may wish to omit the cheese. The dish is still fabulous without it. Expect crisp and toasty nuggets of succulent vegetable. You may play with some flavour options here: a bit of curry powder in the mix would be nice, as would a squirt of lemon juice or the inclusion of thickly cut onion wedges from a sweet onion like Walla Walla or Vidalia.

Of course you could eat the roasted cauliflower as is, but I have an enhanced flavour-packed treatment for these tender, golden vegetables you will want to try. Roast your cauliflower florets to your liking and set aside in a mixing bowl. Take a can of anchovies in olive oil and spill the oil into a saute pan. Mince the anchovies and place them in the pan with the oil. Add in 2-3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped, a large pinch of pepperoncini (hot pepper flakes) and 2 tablespoons of minced capers. Cook the mixture over medium heat until the garlic is golden and the anchovies have melted down to a moist paste. This should take about 4-5 minutes. Be careful the garlic doesn't get too dark, as it could easily scorch and turn bitter. Scrape this fragrant mixture onto your cauliflower florets and toss to coat everything well. Season to taste with salt and fresh cracked pepper. I like to add some green to this mix in the form of fresh chopped Italian parsley which adds jolts of herbal joy and marries well with the garlic/anchovy/caper elements in the dish. Serve immediately. This gutsy, lusty vegetable creation pairs nicely with other Mediterranean offerings, including tomato-centric pastas, grilled fish, or savoury meat pies.

You need never be bored by the humble cauliflower. Roast it!