I know I often talk about my favorite vegetables, and this constant chatter of favorites is eventually going to betray the fact that I have at least a dozen *favorite* vegetables, and depending upon which season we’re in, I’m likely to proclaim that at least half a dozen of those are actually my “most favorite, favorite.” And I think it’s entirely possible to be both 100% honest AND to have several favorites. I just do.
A few weeks ago the weekly veggie list showed up with one of my *favorite* favorites on it: celeriac. Poor celeriac that never gets a fair shake. Also known as celery root, it looks a bit like a bizarre potato, nubby and brown, and completely nothing to write home about. A sniff of this humble vegetable, however, starts to reveal something of its magic. Earthy and nutty, it immediately makes me want to slice it in half and start warming some butter.
If I could be accused of professing my undying love for more than one or two vegetables, I can ALSO be accused of waxing poetic far too often about the beautiful versatility of more than a handful of old standbys and a few lesser known characters as well. But there’s just something so irresistibly satisfying to me about vegetables that like to shape shift in my kitchen.
Here are ten reasons why I was thrilled to find celeriac in my veggie box again this past week:
Shaved celeriac salad. Try combining it with cubes of cold roasted winter squash, crumbled blue cheese, and shaved radishes. A drizzle of olive oil, a spritz of lemon juice, and a sprinkling of maldon salt on top….
Celeriac chips. Slice thinly, toss with olive oil and salt, and roast at 350 until browned.
Celeriac soup. Whether you mix it with potatoes, turnips, bacon, leeks, or all of the above, you will not be disappointed.
Shaved celeriac, apples, and cheddar. Slice an apple, add a slice of Brookford cheddar (smoked, clothbound, or raw all go very well!), and add a few pieces of shaved celeriac on top.
Root vegetable galette. You CAN make this without celeriac, but why would you want to?
Braising. Try browning celeriac in butter, adding a few splashes of cooking sherry, the same amount of chicken stock, and salt to taste. Braise until softened.
Fermented celeriac remoulade. You won’t be disappointed.
Gratin. Earthy, rich, and indulgent. Something you definitely want to eat before “stick to your ribs” season is over.
Celeriac and rutabaga mash. I’m pretty certain that it’s the swirled pool of melted butter shown in the picture that first convinced me to try this recipe, but it’s the nutty satisfaction of the smooth celeriac that keeps me in love with this recipe. I make it every Thanksgiving.
Eggs baked in celeriac puree. Whir cooked celeriac in the food processor along with cream, butter, and salt to taste. Transfer the celeriac to a greased oven proof dish. Make 4-6 indents in the celeriac, and gently crack an egg into each indent. Add a sprinkling of salt and small pat of butter over each egg, and cook in an oven preheated to 375 degrees until cooked through (about 15 minutes). Sunday morning, reinvented!