flickr user cyclonebillFor the most part, the benefits of a weekly CSA box–eating more vegetables, saving money, cooking with new ingredients–make it exciting and rewarding. But some weeks–say, when you’ve got guests in town or one member of your household goes out of town for a few days–the CSA box can seem a bit overwhelming. You can’t keep up. You go to the fridge for some seltzer and find that you can’t escape the accusatory gaze of some neglected frisee. The pleasure of eating that hot, gooey slice of pizza you’ve been craving all week is replaced by guilt when you remember the bag of salad greens teetering on the edge of slimy in the crisper drawer. When your cup runneth over with produce, it’s hard to justify purchasing other vegetables besides garlic, carrots, and celery. Even a tomato can seem like a luxury. But there’s one vegetable so stunning that when I happen upon it (as I did, suddenly, this weekend while fighting the throngs at Pike Place Market), I’ll happily disregard the various heads of lettuces and turnips languishing in the fridge: romanesco. Romanesco is yet another Brassica (notable fellow Brassicas include cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage, brussel sprouts, and my old friend kohlrabi). But while cauliflower is a bit homely, romanesco is a real looker: a gorgeous pale green fractal, each pointed bud composed of a series of identical smaller buds that rise in pyramids of spiraling cones. It’s almost hard to believe that it’s a vegetable that hails from northern Italy and not some alien optical illusion. Adding to its mystery, romanesco is available only briefly, from late summer to fall. Romanesco’s flavor is like a very mild cauliflower (and it can easily be cooked together with cauliflower, even broccoli, if you have some on hand). It stands up nicely to some of my favorite strong, salty flavors. When I treat myself to a head of romanesco, I like to make a variation of this recipe, using capers, lemon, and, when I’ve got them knocking around, anchovies.