I had to smile just thinking about the first time I made this Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Pomegranate Salad. I’d just come back from the market—crammed with people because, of course, it was a Saturday morning before a public holiday—and my arms were loaded with way more veg than one person should ever need. My friend Meg was coming over for lunch, and she claims she “hates Brussels sprouts,” but, as it turns out, she’s a lying liar because she devoured almost an entire tray’s worth. Not to toot my own horn, but this salad has converted more so-called sprout-haters than I can count; perhaps it’s the sweet little pops of pomegranate or maybe the deeply roasted, not-at-all-soggy sprouts. Also, I accidentally dropped a handful of feta across it once and now it’s a non-negotiable addition (so thanks, gravity?).

Anyway, let’s get right into my kitchen ramble—er, I mean, recipe.

Why you’ll actually love this (I promise)

I whip this up when I’ve got sprouts rolling around the fridge and need to clear them out before they get terrifyingly squishy—don’t pretend you haven’t been there.
My family goes bonkers for this at Christmas because the pomegranate looks all festive and fancy, but it’s honestly great for any random Tuesday lunch too.
I make it whenever I’m in a rush because it’s mostly hands-off—unless you count wrestling open a stubborn pomegranate (life hack: roll it on the counter first, see this method I found on Serious Eats).
I went through a phase of burning the sprouts because I started a new book and forgot the oven timer. With enough olive oil, nobody noticed. (Just don’t leave them for an hour or anything.)

What you’ll need (plus my grandma’s famous swap)

500g Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved (Or quartered if you’re feeling ambitious. Sometimes I get frozen ones from Sainsbury’s because I’m lazy.)
2 tbsp olive oil (I’ve used avocado oil in a pinch but that’s because I ran out—olive’s my fave!)
About 100g pomegranate seeds (I usually use one big fruit or those little snack pots if I can’t be bothered.)
60g feta cheese, crumbled (Goat cheese also works, though my partner thinks feta is king.)
A big handful of fresh parsley, roughly chopped (Coriander/cilantro works too, if that’s your thing.)
30g walnuts, toasted and roughly chopped (Almonds are okay in a pinch, but grandma swore it had to be walnuts—oh well!)
Sea salt and black pepper (You know the drill. Sometimes I add sumac for a little tang if I’m feeling extra.)
Juice of half a lemon (Lime in an emergency. Zingy either way!)
Optional: A drizzle of honey or maple syrup, if you like some sweet notes.

How I actually make it (with a side of chaos)

Preheat your oven to 220°C/430°F. Or thereabouts. Sometimes my oven is acting up and I just crank it pretty hot—close enough.
Toss the sprouts with the olive oil, a good pinch of salt and pepper, and spread them out on a baking tray. Try not to pile them up too much; otherwise, they just steam and that’s not fun. Sneak a taste of a raw one if you feel brave—I never do.
Roast for 18–25 minutes, shake ’em once halfway through. You want golden edges but not ash. Don’t worry if they look a bit weird at first; they crisp up at the end (seriously, be patient).
Meanwhile, toast the walnuts in a small dry pan until they smell nutty—don’t walk away here or you’ll end up with smoke and sadness. I’ve done that more times than I care to admit.
Once the sprouts are roasted and you’re happy enough (they should look a bit caramelised at the edges), tip them into your serving dish.
Scatter over the pomegranate seeds, crumble on the feta, and tumble in parsley and walnuts. Squeeze that lemon juice all over; try to catch the pips (I never do, so shout when you bite one?)
Drizzle with honey if you fancy, adjust the seasonings to taste. Give it a gentle toss—unless you want everything to look pretty, in which case, just layer it.

Stuff I wish someone had told me (notes)

Sometimes the outer leaves of sprouts get super brown but I actually love the extra crunch—they’re like nature’s crisps.
If you forget to toast the walnuts and just chuck them in, it’s genuinely fine. Toasted is just a bonus, not a dealbreaker.
One time I added the feta before the sprouts cooled and it sort of melted into the salad. Actually, it turned out quite tasty, but not cute for photos.

Variations (including one flop)

Tried it with goat cheese instead of feta—delish but a bit tangier.
Added roasted sweet potato cubes for extra heft; made it more of a main meal vibe.
Swapped in pumpkin seeds instead of walnuts; crunchier, but I missed the walnut richness.
Once used blue cheese, but wow, that was… a bold choice (nobody really went back for seconds, so maybe skip that).

Do you really need fancy equipment?

Honestly, all you need is a decent roasting tray and a sharp knife. If you’ve not got a proper zester for the lemon, just use the fine side of your regular cheese grater; works nearly as well. I do, however, swear by my nonstick pan for toasting nuts—saves on scrubbing later (not my favourite task, ever).

Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Pomegranate Salad

How does this keep? (Spoiler: not long in my house)

It’ll keep in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 2 days, though honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day! If you do end up with any left, I reckon it tastes even better the next day—kind of like when pizza improves overnight. Don’t try to freeze it. The sprouts go a bit weird and watery; found out the hard way.

How we like to serve it

I serve it alongside roast chicken or salmon (especially if I’m pretending to be all healthy), but it’s also just brilliant on its own with a thick slice of sourdough. We sometimes take it on a picnic in a Tupperware—though the feta turns into, well, a bit of a smudge, but nobody cares in the sun. Oh, and at Christmas, it somehow ends up as breakfast the next day (don’t ask).

Pro tips I learned by doing it all wrong first

Don’t try to rush the roasting. I once tried to save five minutes and the sprouts just steamed—sad and soggy.
Let the sprouts cool a smidge before tossing with feta so you don’t end up with a gloopy mess (unless you’re into that, then you do you!).
Watch those walnuts while toasting. Seriously. Walk away and they’ll scorch before you blink.
If you spill pomegranate juice everywhere (I always do), just know that it stains. Wear an apron, or dark clothes, or just don’t care.

Questions people actually ask me (and one I sort of made up)

“Can I make this ahead?”: Yep, and in fact, sometimes I think it tastes better the next day. Just keep everything separate—the feta, nuts, and pomegranate—and chuck it all together when you’re ready.
“What if I don’t like pomegranate seeds?”: No judgement! Try dried cranberries or even diced apple. The sweet crunch is what makes this fun, you know?
“Can I use frozen sprouts?”: Actually, I do this sometimes (don’t tell the food snobs). Just roast them straight from frozen—might need a couple extra minutes.
“What’s a good swap for feta?”: Goat cheese, some ricotta salata, or even a sharp cheddar if you’re desperate. On second thought, maybe not cheddar…unless you’re feeling brave.
“Is there a shortcut for getting pomegranate seeds out?”: Oh, yeah! I swear by the wooden spoon tap method from YouTube (the one where you whack it and the seeds kinda rain out—so satisfying).

I know that was a lot, but truly—give this Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Pomegranate Salad a whirl. You might even trick a sprout-skeptic or two. Oh, and if you tweak it, let me know how it goes… unless it involves blue cheese. Still recovering from that one.