Stop cooking your vegetables. They're even better raw

I remember the first time I went to the glorious, matchbox-sized (and now-shuttered) restaurant Prune, helmed by the brilliant chef Gabrielle Hamilton. My brother and I were squeezed into a corner table near the door, which blasted us with cold air each time it opened — but none of that mattered. If anything, it heightened the experience. The astonishing food was a sharp contrast to the near-endless draft, making each bite feel even more essential.

The meal started with a dish that felt both defining and spectacular, utterly simple yet elevated: raw, perfectly cleaned breakfast radishes served with a small dish of waxy, rich European butter and a tiny ramekin of flaky salt. You were instructed to swipe the radish through the butter, dip lightly into the salt and eat. It was affirming — textural, temperature-driven, a flavor experience unlike any other. The peppery cold crunch of the radish, the smooth fattiness of the butter, the crispness and salinity of the salt — I was gobsmacked.

That dish taught me something fundamental: raw produce, when treated with care—properly washed, dried and cut — and paired with the right accompaniments can be spectacular.

It’s why I’ll almost always choose raw vegetables over cooked ones. Take carrots for example — one of my absolute favorites. And yet, I almost never eat them cooked. I can’t even remember the last time I had a side of cooked carrots beyond the ones floating in a bowl of chicken soup. Carrot purée in a risotto? Sure. But plain soft cooked carrots? No thanks. The same goes for radishes—I don’t think I’ve ever had them cooked. Peppers? I love their snappy bite when raw, but unless they’re roasted, I have no interest.

Raw vegetables shine when they’re given the same attention we devote to cooked dishes. When I eat wings, I often find myself more excited about the crisp carrots, celery and blue cheese than the wings themselves. There’s a reason lettuce, tomato and onion belong on a burger or why slaw makes a sandwich better — raw elements add contrast and balance, not just crunch but freshness and vibrancy. Even cabbage, so often doomed to limp oblivion, is at its best when slightly softened with vinegar, salt and lemon, yet still holding onto its crunch.

The key, as that plate of radishes at Prune showed me, is knowing how to pair raw vegetables with ingredients that enhance their best qualities. Radish dusted with furikake get an umami boost. A drizzle of high-quality olive oil brightened with za’atar transforms snap peas. Bagna cauda, the Piedmontese anchovy-laden dipping sauce, gives crisp cucumber spears a deeply savory edge. Dukkah — a Middle Eastern blend of toasted nuts, seeds and spices—takes raw vegetables from afterthought to main event. 

One of my favorite ways to serve raw vegetables is by embracing this interplay of texture and flavor: labneh with dukkah, bagna cauda with a chilled vegetable platter or a specialty vinegar paired with a dusting of za’atar. Temperature matters too — chilling vegetables in the freezer for 20 minutes before serving them alongside room-temperature oil or warmed spices can create a new kind of sensory contrast.

It all comes back to that lesson from Prune: raw produce isn’t just something to snack on while waiting for the main course. When handled with care and given thoughtful accompaniments, it can be the most exciting part of the meal. Besides, not cooking them will save you time — and raw vegetables are often more nutritious and healthful than cooked, too.

So next time you preheat your oven or heat a pan for some green beans or cauliflower, consider skipping the cooking altogether.

Fresh produce, enjoyed as it is, might just be the most rewarding bite of all.