A colorful assortment of veggies for the bagna càuda including carrots, daikon radish, peppers, cauliflower, sugar snap peas, asparagus, fennel and endive.
A colorful assortment of veggies for the bagna càuda including carrots, daikon radish, peppers, cauliflower, sugar snap peas, asparagus, fennel and endive. Credit: Lucy Pickett

Recently, I was assigned the job of vegetables for the bagna càuda for a recent get-together for my mother’s 90th birthday.

You might ask, what the heck is bagna càuda? To tell you the truth, I had never heard of bagna càuda until my sister brought some for Christmas this past year. You can stop reading here if you don’t like anchovies. Or then again, if you are curious, I won’t stop you. Or should I say I can’t stop you.

Still following? Well, bagna càuda is a warmed anchovy, olive oil and garlic dip originally from northern Italy that’s served with a variety of vegetables. At the first taste at my introduction to bagna càuda I thought I wouldn’t bother with this again. Then for the party, when shopping and preparing the vegetables that go with it, I started to understand its beauty.

First of all, you can’t go to wrong with a varied, somewhat exotic and incredibly colorful display of fresh crunchy vegetables. It was actually very fun choosing the vegetables. I got orange, white and purple carrots, purple daikon radish, red peppers, cauliflower, sugar snap peas, asparagus, fennel and Belgian endive. I had so many veggies I skipped the celery I had bought.

The work came in the prepping of the 11 vegetables. But the fun was in the arranging. It really was an eye-catching display.

My brother made the bagna càuda with some fancy, imported salted anchovies, which he rinsed and chopped finely, some fine extra virgin olive oil and of course the minced garlic.

I determined the salty, rich, warm dip was a lovely accompaniment to the crisp vegetables. It can also be served with sliced bread. I liked it better the second time I had it. So an acquired taste? Perhaps.

One thing with this dip is that a little goes a long way. There was a lot left over.

I probably could have made another type of dip for those who were not fans of anchovies, but I didn’t.

— LUCY

In my refrigerator at this very moment is a pound of whole, salted anchovies in a rubber-seal glass jar.

In my pantry at this very moment are various fillets of anchovies packed in olive oil, in tins and small glass jars.

Which leads me this:

Lou’s cooking rule No. 7: Always have plenty of anchovies on hand.

— LOU