Fried cauliflower has been part of my Thanksgiving experience since I started paying attention to the meal. Before I started noticing food, Thanksgiving meant a big antipasto plate with a weird veggie that tricked you into thinking it was celery but tasted like disgusting licorice, and gross olives. The only saving grace was the mashed rutabagas.
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<br />Slowly I became more aware of the food. It began with the wonderful smell that I had never experienced before, that of Parmesan-battered cauliflower hitting hot oil. Heavenly. What I remember most about the fried cauliflower was my Aunt Lorraine frying it up and putting it on a big platter and everyone eating it BEFORE it got to the table. I thought it was an appetizer. WRONG.
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<br />But in our house it is an appetizer, a delicious appetizer, so good-tasting that even the pickiest of young eaters scarf them down.
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<br />So this is a nod to Aunt Lorraine and her wonderfully delicious fried cauliflower.

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