The humble brussels sprout is a ‘take it or leave it’ Christmas vegetable for many people. Personally, I love them.

They have a unique taste, which complements all types of meat.

As far as I am concerned the sprout is the vegetable that just keeps on giving.

My father was an avid supporter of this unique brassica, particularly as a regular feature within the kitchen garden.

And why was this? Obviously, the buttons are always worth a nibble. But when they are gone, what’s left includes the crown of the plant – the sweetest bit of cabbage that one could ever eat.

It’s always best to leave sprouts on the plant until Jack Frost has had his way. Come the cold, comes the sweetness. And, of course, the same principle holds where turnips are concerned.

The other amazing feature of a mature spout plant is the arrangement of the buttons along the stem.

To me, they resemble a mother-of-pearl configuration. Each one is a work of art in its own right.

And, just like honeycomb, every arrangement is different.

Recent years have seen many fruit and veg shops selling sprouts that are still attached to the stem, making for very attractive window decorations.

The only con to the brussels sprout

The one downside to spouts is the fact that they are not the easiest of vegetables to grow. They need plenty of space and demand a soil with quite a high pH value.

But the biggest challenge is that of keeping the roots stable, particularly during the autumn period. If the plants get too big a shaking, then the buttons will fail to close over.

Brussels sprouts are an excellent source of protein, minerals and vitamins.

They are a staple contributor to festive menus across Europe and North America. And long may this continue to be the case.

But sprouts just aren’t to everyone’s taste.

For the record, I have a bit of history in liking foods that may not go down well with others.

Back in the day, I was a big fan of tapioca (frog spawn) and the custard that came in a metal jug from the school kitchen. The thin layer of solid custard at the top of the ‘pitcher’ was to die for.

So, while everyone else was outside kicking a football around, myself and best friend John Nolan remained at the dinner table – gorging ourselves with top-end desserts…. I so loved school.