Celery Root

Adaptions to the original recipe: Prepare any store-bought risotto Fold in a little celery root pureé(vegetable stock and diced celery root cooked until tender, then blended smooth with a little butter added) at the end of cooking would be great. Then omit the more difficult things to make like the distilled apple juice.

This remoulade is a classic French dish and makes perfect use of an under-used vegetable. Choose from capers, parsley or gherkins (or any combination of all three), to add flavour and a pretty hint of green. The celeriac will discolour and brown as soon as it is peeled and sliced, so either use it straight away or soak it in water with lemon juice added, for up to 1 hour before using.

I originally designed this recipe for wild snow geese, and because many of California's snow geese spend their summers on Wrangel Island, near Siberia, it seemed fitting to give the stew a Russian feel. But of course the legs of any goose or duck, wild or domesticated, will work here. It's important to remove the meat from the bones before you serve this stew, otherwise everyone will be picking through their bowls for small, sharp objects. It takes only a few minutes, and your family and friends will thank you for it. This stew keeps well in the fridge for a week, though the grain in it will continue to swell over time, absorbing moisture and making this more like a French potage. It also freezes well.

Because of their denser texture, root vegetables can be simmered in water instead of milk, then pureed with milk (or cream) and butter.

This recipe employs many classic techniques of braising. To finish the sauce, the liquid is first reduced (a common thickening method) and then a secondary thickener called a beurre manié, a mixture of flour and butter, is added. Beurre manié can be added to most any sauce that seems to need a bit more body. And since the flavor of pork pairs well with apples, hard cider is used to braise the meat. For variation, the standard French mirepoix of onion, carrot, and celery is replaced with parsnip, celery root, and leek. If you don’t have a pot with a tight-fitting lid, cover your pot with aluminum foil lined with parchment paper and then the lid (you can even use the lid from another, similar-size pot or pan). Check 30 minutes after placing the pot in the oven to make sure that the liquid is gently simmering; if not, raise the temperature by 25 degrees, return the liquid to a boil on top of stove, and return the pot to the oven to finish cooking. (If vigorously boiling, decrease temperature by 25 degrees.)

If you prefer a completely smooth texture, you may pass the potatoes and celery root through a food mill or ricer after they have been cooked.

The USDA recommends cooking duck breasts until they register 170°F. For a moister breast, we cooked ours to 125°F; after it rests, the duck will be cooked to medium-rare. Chicken is also delicious in this recipe: Substitute four 12-ounce boneless skin-on chicken breast halves for the duck. In step 3, don’t score the breasts. To cook, heat 2 teaspoons oil in a large skillet over medium heat; cook until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Flip the chicken, and transfer to the oven. Cook until the chicken reaches 175°F, about 25 minutes. For the sauce, substitute dry white wine for the red wine.

Traditional rémoulade is made with mayonnaise. We have lightened this traditional side dish with a lemony yogurt dressing.

Nicolas Jongleux is a Montreal legend. Born and raised in Marsannay, in Burgundy, he grew up working in some of France’s most influential kitchens, including, at age twenty-six, under Alain Chapel at the Michelin-three-star La Mère Charles in Mionnay. He came to Montreal under the guise of partnering in Le Cintra, where he worked for three years. From there he ran the seminal Les Caprices de Nicolas. David says: “He had more talent than anyone I’ve ever seen. I once watched him make sixty identical croissants by hand, no recipe, no scale, and he hadn’t made croissants for more than five years. When he finished, there was not a drop of extra pastry, and each pastry was perfect.” He was also the kind of person who had such discipline all of his life, that he when he left France, he lived the experiences most of us had in our teens, in his thirties. He opened his last restaurant, Café Jongleux, in 1999, and committed suicide in the restaurant later that year. This recipe was a Nicolas classic.

This is the one stew you can get away with in the summer, yet crave in the winter. Veal chunks from the hind shank is the best meat for this; cheeks or shoulder is another option. All but the rear leg muscle will work. Of course, mashed potatoes or a marrow pilaf (rice baked with bone marrow instead of butter) is the perfect buddy. As a finishing touch, we like to pimp our blanquette de veau with truffles, cock’s combs, foie gras, or small slices of lobster. It lends regality to an otherwise hearty and simple stew.

No one, no matter how calorie conscious, can pass up this luscious gratin. Winery chef Tom Sixsmith has perfected it, finding just the right proportion of potato to celery root and the ideal ratio of milk to cream. Serve with a grilled steak or a pork roast, or with a standing rib roast for a special occasion.

It is so simple to transform a hard, homely celery root into a lovely salad with delicate taste and texture. Just drop the big root—a softball-sized unpeeled round—into a big pot of water, and let it cook for an hour or more. This technique retains and mellows the root’s wonderful flavor, and makes it easy to peel and cut it up too. Dress this simply, or take the salad in a different direction (see variations).

This soup uses a very simple technique that is time-consuming, to be sure, but requires very little attention and rewards you with loads of rich flavor. Consider this a Sunday afternoon on the back of the stove kind of dish. Although I use carrots, celery, celery root, and one of my favorite underutilized vegetables here—parsnips—you can use any variety of root vegetables that you have on hand or that look good at the market. Just be sure to use at least a few different kinds to lend real depth of flavor to the soup. I add the vegetables toward the end of cooking to keep the flavors bright and save them from turning to mush. Any leftovers will make Monday night dinner a snap, and the soup even improves if made in advance. Be sure to cool it properly in the fridge and taste for seasoning the next day. You may want to thin it with a little additional water if it’s too thick upon reheating.

Pheasant and celery get on rather well. I sometimes put thick ribs in with the aromatics for a pot-roast bird, and have included shredded celery in a salad of cold pheasant with Little Gem lettuce and walnuts. Celery root seems to be one of the most successful mashes to serve with the mildly gamey flesh of this bird (parsnip is good, too).

As much as I appreciate the traditional rendition of the sort of celery root rémoulade you might get in a Parisian brasserie, I also like to shake it up a bit. Including the ham, or even bacon, in the salad rather than serving it alongside gives the meat a while to get to know the other ingredients, becoming more than just an accompaniment. An alternative to bacon would be shreds of smoked venison or prosciutto, or maybe smoked mackerel. Radish sprouts are stunningly colored sprouted seeds with a spicy heat. Enterprising natural food shops and supermarkets have them, or you can sprout your own in a salad sprouter. If they evade you, you could use any sprouted seed here.

Pretty pink grapefruits add zing and color to salads. Supreming citrus fruits (see the pictures on page 97) gives you seed- and rind-free sections that are ready to eat with no fuss, and the process releases a considerable amount of juice, which you’ll use as the base of the dressing. Once you have peeled the celery root, soak it in water with a little bit of lemon juice to keep it from turning brown.

This soba gnocchi is one of the most popular dishes at my Chicago restaurant, Takashi. My customers love it and often ask me how to prepare it at home. Well, here’s the answer! The recipe is a little challenging, but I guarantee you it will more than impress the guests at your next dinner party. You can prepare the gnocchi in advance, and even freeze it (be sure to coat the gnocchi with vegetable oil before refrigerating or freezing). You can also prepare the celery root sauce ahead of time. And like the gnocchi, you can freeze it, too.

French-style potato purees are very finely processed, and often incorporate copious amounts of butter, so the resulting puree is silky smooth. In this recipe, the addition of celeriac to the potatoes creates another layer of flavor. Traditionally, in classic French cooking, white sauces use white pepper instead of black, making the finished dish appear more refined. When we were children and would see pepper in a dish we would complain, often without tasting, that it was “too hot.” Sneakily, Mama started using white pepper to pull the wool over our eyes.

In Tuscany, every town has a market day. This is when trucks carrying all kinds of delightful edibles pull into the center of town, open up their sides, and become little grocery stores on wheels. Of course my favorite truck was always the porchetta truck—who doesn’t love a truck that sells a delicious crispy pork product? Traditionally, porchetta is a whole pig that’s been boned and cooked for hours, until the skin gets totally brown and crunchy and the meat becomes wonderfully tender. It’s most often seasoned with garlic, sage, and black pepper—and while pepper is not usually how I roll, it’s appropriate in this dish to keep the classic flavors intact. What is totally unique in my version is to cook the pork on a bed of autumn vegetables—they soak up the lovely porky juices and help create the ultimate one-pot dinner for a crowd. Be sure to save some leftovers for a sandwich the next day!

When I worked in Gray Kunz's kitchens at Lespinasse, there was an honest-to-God Swiss princess living at the St. Regis Hotel. Her name was Princess Doria, and every night, she would phone down to the kitchen and tell us what she wanted to eat for dinner. In the beginning, Gray would cook for her himself: he was Swiss, she was Swiss, it was a whole Swiss thing going on. But after a while, he got tired of taking her calls, and the job devolved to me and the sous chefs. Every night, that phone would ring, and I would say, "Good evening, Princess," and she would tell me what she wanted to eat that night. Princess Doria wasn't into super-fancy creative cooking: her thing was refined-but-homey. Some- times, for example, it would be a roast pintade for two: I would plate the breast for her, and the thighs for her cat. So I developed some dishes that were just for her. I named them after her: Salad Doria, Chicken Doria. And sometimes on cold winter nights, she would call down and say, "Andrew, I would like some Soup Doria tonight, please." Time passed. I left Lespinasse to travel and cook in France. When I got back to New York, I helped open Le Cirque 2000 in the Palace Hotel. We'd been up and running about two weeks when the kitchen phone rang by my station one night, right in the middle of the busiest part of service. I heard a familiar voice say, in French-accented tones, "Andrew?" Princess Doria on the line. She'd moved on to the Palace right behind me, and she would be pleased, she said, if I would send up some Soup Doria for her. This soup is just Princess Doria's style. It's really a potage—a French minestrone, a chunky winter vegetable soup. I like to sprinkle Parmesan cheese on top and serve it with some crusty, crunchy French bread.

After a rich main course, you'll love the clean flavors of this minimally dressed salad. Watercress and fris´e are tamed by slivers of celery root and green apple, which also makes for a seamless segue into the next course—Camembert with apple butter from a local market.