Fennel’s not one of those vegetables you bend over backwards for. It’s a little odd, with its bulbous white base and feathery fronds, but maybe that’s why I never really gave it a shot. Then I threw it in the oven, tossed with a splash of olive oil and a grind of black pepper, just to see. The smell—oh, it’s a strange mix of sweet licorice and roasted almonds—still kind of funny, but it hits differently than raw. The texture after roasting? Slightly tender, but with crispy edges that remind me of good roasted nuts. It’s not flashy, but it feels like a secret handshake with the season. No fancy technique, no fuss, just this simple vegetable turning into something you actually want to eat. We’re in the thick of winter, and honestly, sometimes, I think the cold makes more sense with a little unexpected sweetness on the plate.

Roasted Fennel
Equipment
- Chef’s knife
- Cutting board
- Baking sheet
- Parchment paper
- Mixing bowl
- Oven
Ingredients
- 2 bulbs fennel bulbs ends trimmed and core removed
- 2 tablespoons olive oil for tossing and drizzling
- to taste black pepper freshly ground
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Slice the fennel bulbs vertically into ½-inch thick wedges, ensuring the core holds the slices together. Arrange the fennel slices on the prepared baking sheet.2 bulbs fennel bulbs
- In a mixing bowl, toss the fennel slices with olive oil and freshly ground black pepper until evenly coated.2 bulbs fennel bulbs
- Spread the coated fennel slices in a single layer on the baking sheet, with some space between each piece.2 bulbs fennel bulbs
- Roast in the oven for about 30 minutes, until the edges are golden brown and slightly crispy, and the fennel is tender when pierced with a fork.
- Remove from oven, transfer to a serving plate, and optionally drizzle with additional olive oil or garnish with herbs. Serve warm.
This might not be your usual vegetable showcase. No bright colors or fancy sauces. Just fennel, a hot oven, and that weird, beautiful smell of it transforming. It’s oddly grounding in a world that keeps rushing. And maybe that’s what makes it worth trying now—a little reminder that unexpected things can be comforting.