Brussels Sprouts with Lardons

Dinner

Blanched until just tender, then finished in a hot pan with crispy smoked vegetarian lardons and a knob of butter. A touch of Dijon at the end ties everything together. The sprouts get golden and slightly caramelised on the cut side, the lardons add salt and crunch, and the whole thing comes together in about 30 minutes.

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Prep Time 10 minutes mins

Cook Time 20 minutes mins

Total Time 30 minutes mins

Servings 4

Ingredients 

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• 600 gr Brussels sprouts trimmed and halved
• 150 gr vegetarian smoked lardons
• 30 gr unsalted butter
• 1 shallot finely sliced
• 1 tsp Dijon mustard
• 1 handful flat-leaf parsley finely chopped
• salt and black pepper

Equipment

large saucepan

colander

frying pan

wooden spoon

tea towel

Instructions

1. Blanch the Brussels sprouts

• Bring a large saucepan of generously salted water to a rolling boil. Add the halved Brussels sprouts and blanch for 4–5 minutes, they should be just tender when pierced with a knife but still have some resistance. You're not cooking them through here, just taking the raw edge off and removing any bitterness. Drain immediately into a colander and run cold water over them for a minute to stop the cooking. Spread them out on a clean tea towel and pat them as dry as you can. Moisture in the pan is the enemy of a good caramelised cut side.

2. Crisp the lardons

• Add half the butter and the olive oil to your frying pan over a medium-high heat. Once the butter is foaming, add the vegetarian lardons in a single layer and leave them to cook without stirring for 2–3 minutes until they're starting to colour and crisp on the outside. Give them a toss and cook for another minute. Remove them and set aside on a plate. They won't release any fat, so everything left in the pan is what you cooked them in, don't discard it.

3. Soften the shallot

• Turn the heat down to medium. The pan should still have butter and olive oil in it from the lardons. If it looks dry, add a small knob of butter. Add the sliced shallot and cook gently for 2–3 minutes, stirring, until soft and translucent. It should have no colour, you're just taking the sharp edge off it, not browning it.

4. Sauté the Brussels sprouts

• Turn the heat back up to medium-high and add the remaining butter. Once it's foaming, add the blanched Brussels sprouts cut side down in a single layer. Leave them completely undisturbed for 2–3 minutes so the flat sides have time to develop colour. This is the step most people skip, and it's the step that makes the difference. Once they're golden on the cut side, toss the pan, season well with salt and black pepper, and cook for another minute.

5. Finish and serve

• Return the lardons to the pan. Add the Dijon mustard and toss everything together over the heat for about 30 seconds until the mustard coats everything lightly. Remove from the heat, scatter over the flat-leaf parsley, and serve immediately. This is a dish that doesn't wait well, Brussels sprouts with lardons are best eaten straight from the pan.

Notes

• Don’t skip the blanching step. Cooking Brussels sprouts from raw in a frying pan means they’ll brown on the outside before they’re cooked through. Blanching gives you control.
• Dry the sprouts thoroughly before they go in the pan. Any water left on them will steam rather than fry, and you’ll lose the caramelised cut sides.
• The olive oil alongside the butter stops the butter burning at the higher heat needed for the sprouts. Don’t skip it.
• The Dijon is a finish, not a sauce. One teaspoon coats everything lightly and adds a gentle sharpness that balances the richness of the butter. More than that and it takes over.

About this recipe

Brussels sprouts have a bad reputation, and I’ve never understood why as we love them. This recipe for brussels sprouts with lardons will make you change your mind if you dislike them. In France the “choux de Bruxelles” has been a perfectly respectable winter vegetable for centuries. Cooked properly, served simply and eaten without any complaints. There exist a boiled-to-mush version that put generations of people off Brussels sprouts for life, but that doesn’t really exist in the French culinary vocabulary. In France, you cook them until just tender and then you do something with them.

Two of our neighbours grow them in their gardens, and once they’ve had their fill but the plants are still producing, we’re the lucky ones who get to reap the rewards.

Where do Brussels sprouts actually come from?

Despite the name, the origins of Brussels sprouts are genuinely disputed. The most widely cited theory is that they were cultivated in the region around Brussels from at least the 13th century, which is where the name comes from. By the 16th century, they were being grown across the Low Countries and northern France. The first clear written references to Brussels sprouts as a distinct cultivated vegetable appear in Belgian and French sources from the late 16th and early 17th centuries.

What gets less attention is how quickly they became embedded in French regional cooking, particularly in the northern and eastern regions where the climate suits brassicas (cabbages). Normandy, Picardy, Alsace and the Paris basin. By the 18th century, Brussels sprouts were a staple winter vegetable across much of northern France, and recipes combining them with pork fat and butter appear in French cookbooks from that period onwards.

The pairing with lardons is as old as the vegetable’s presence in French cooking. The French have a deep instinct for combining bitter vegetables with cured pork. It’s the same logic behind lardons with green beans, lardons with lentils (lentilles du Puy), lardons with chicory. The salt and savouriness softens the bitterness of the brassica, and the whole thing becomes something considerably more interesting than the vegetable on its own. My husband and I are pescatarian, so we use plant-based lardons and honestly, they’re delicious. You’re adding fat through butter instead, and the technique shifts slightly, but the flavour logic is identical.

Cooking Brussels sprouts the French way

The key difference between the French way of cooking brussel sprouts and the soggy boiled versions most people grew up with is what happens after the blanching. First, you blanch the Brussels sprouts briefly in salted boiling water, or in a steamer, and then they go straight into a hot pan with butter which is where all the flavours intensify. The caramelised cut side adds a slight nuttiness, and this is the way that makes fried brussels sprouts worth eating in my opinion.

The lardons bring salt and texture and the butter ties everything together. A touch of Dijon at the end adds a sharpness that stops the dish feeling heavy. This is the version you’ll find in French home kitchens in winter. It’s not a fancy dish and it’s not meant to be. It’s just a well cooked vegetable dish that makes the most of what Brussels sprouts actually are: a robust, slightly bitter, deeply savoury flavour.

Why the blanch-then-sauté method matters

The technique behind this brussels sprouts with lardons recipe is one of the most useful in French home cooking, and once you understand it, you’ll use it constantly. You’ll do it with green beans, broccoli and asparagus too. The principle is always the same: boiling water removes bitterness and cooks the vegetable through, the hot pan adds flavour and texture. The two steps together give you something that neither alone can deliver.

When to buy them for the Brussels sprouts recipe

It’s worth knowing that Brussels sprouts are at their best in late autumn and winter, after the first frost. Cold temperatures convert some of the starches in the sprout to sugars, which gives them a slightly sweeter, nuttier flavour. If you’re buying them and they’re available on the stalk, buy them on the stalk. They stay fresh longer and tend to have better flavour than pre-packed bags.

The Dijon connection

The teaspoon of Dijon mustard at the end of this brussels sprouts with lardons recipe is a small thing that makes a noticeable difference. Dijon mustard has been produced in Burgundy since the 13th century, and it has been used as a finishing element in French cooking for just as long. It’s sharper and more pungent than most mustards, with an immediate heat that fades quickly rather than lingering. In a dish this rich, that sharpness does real work. It lifts everything without announcing itself.

If you’ve only ever had Brussel sprouts boiled, this recipe is worth making just to understand what the vegetable can actually be. They’re incredible, and the French knew that all along.