Roasted Romanesco with Chickpeas and Dates

For about twenty years, I could not face a certain member of the brassica family, and it is entirely the fault of a single vegetable purchased in my youth at a French farmers market.
A friend and I were traveling through France by car on a student budget, which meant making certain economies so that we could afford to put gas in the car and, on occasion, eat a rather better dinner than our finances might otherwise have allowed. We decided that lunch would therefore consist of fresh vegetables purchased at local farmers markets, turned into salads or crudités, and accompanied by a selection of dressings that my friend had thoughtfully brought along for precisely this purpose. It seemed an excellent plan, and one that would leave us with enough money to spend on the things that really mattered.
On the first day of our spring break trip, we bought a lovely cauliflower. It was fresh and a beautiful, unblemished cream color with vibrant green leaves, and seemed just the thing for an inexpensive and virtuous lunch. What we hadn't anticipated was that the damn thing was apparently capable of regenerating overnight. No matter how much cauliflower we ate, there seemed to be precisely the same amount, if not more, waiting for us in the cooler the following day. By the time we finally disposed of the wretched vegetable, I had developed such a severe aversion to cauliflower that I stopped eating it completely.
My rehabilitation came decades later, courtesy of a dinner party at which someone served roasted cauliflower. I was a guest, and therefore obliged by the rules of civilized behavior to eat at least a little of what had been put in front of me, however much I might have preferred to avoid it. To my surprise, it was delicious. It turns out that roasting a cauliflower produces something entirely different from the seemingly immortal raw vegetable that had haunted my friend and me during our travels through France. I have been happily eating the full spectrum of brassicas ever since.
I like contrasting temperatures, textures, and tastes in a dish, so the idea here is to serve the hot roasted Romanesco over a smooth, room-temperature chickpea purée, with the sweetness of dates and the sharpness of capers keeping every mouthful interesting.
1/2 head of Romanesco, cut into florets
2 Delilah peppers (or one regular red pepper, or a serving of jarred roasted red peppers)
1/2 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
4 dates, rehydrated, pitted and chopped
1 Tbsp capers or cornichons, roughly chopped. I planned on using capers, realized I was out and substituted pickle - you basically need something that balances the sweetness of the dates and the red peppers.
1 Tbsp flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1 Tbsp tahini
1 lemon
1/2 + 1/4 tsp ground cumin
Generous glug of olive oil, approximately 1 Tbsp
1/2 Tbsp pumpkin seeds (optional garnish)
Salt to taste
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
If your dates are dry, soak them in a little hot water while your vegetables roast, then drain, remove the pits if necessary, and chop roughly before using.
Place the whole Delilah peppers on a baking sheet. Toss the Romanesco florets with the olive oil, 1/2 tsp of the cumin, and a little salt, then spread them out on a separate baking sheet in a single layer.
If using Delilah peppers, put both baking sheets in the oven at the same time. Roast the Romanesco for approximately twenty to twenty-five minutes, turning the florets once, until they are tender with browned, slightly crisp edges. The peppers should be ready at around the same time, with their skins blistered and beginning to char in places. If either needs a little longer, leave it in the oven until it is done.
If using regular red peppers, halve and seed them, then put them in the oven approximately fifteen minutes before the Romanesco, since they generally take longer to roast. After twenty five minutes in the oven, transfer them to a bowl and cover for fifteen minutes or so to allow the skins to loosen. Treat the Delilah peppers the same way once they are roasted, removing the seeds after peeling. When the peppers are cool enough to handle, peel away the skins and cut the flesh into strips. If using jarred roasted peppers, simply drain them and cut them into strips, warming them briefly if you want to preserve the contrast of hot vegetables and room-temperature purée.
While the vegetables are roasting, place the drained chickpeas in a food processor or blender with the tahini, 1/4 tsp cumin, 1 tsp lemon juice, and a little salt. Add 1 Tbsp cold water and blend until smooth, adding more water a teaspoon at a time until the mixture is creamy and spreadable. Taste and adjust the lemon juice and salt as needed. Leave the purée at room temperature.
As soon as the Romanesco comes out of the oven, add the chopped dates, capers, and red pepper strips directly to the roasting pan and toss everything together, making sure to incorporate any olive oil and cumin remaining in the pan. The residual heat will warm the dates without cooking them.
Scoop the chickpea purée into a shallow dinner bowl. Arrange the hot Romanesco floret, red pepper, date, and caper/cornichon mixture over the top.
Scatter the chopped parsley over everything and finish with a splash of fresh lemon juice just before serving. As I did, you could also scatter 1/2 Tbsp pumpkin seeds, briefly toasted in a dry skillet, over the top for additional crunch and a little nutritional bonus in the form of magnesium, zinc, iron, and protein. I can't pretend that half a tablespoon will transform anyone's health, but at my age every little bit helps. Some crushed pita chips might work too. Or, if you want something more substantial for dinner, skip the chickpea puree entirely, and serve the Romanesco and peppers over a hearty grain like pearled barley, freekeh, or farro. A bit of flaky salt to finish is nice.