Celery Root

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.

Céleri rémoulade—shredded celeriac (celery root) in a mayonnaise-based dressing— is the French version of slaw. Peel a celeriac bulb with a chef’s knife, trimming away the gnarled brown skin to expose the pale flesh. Once peeled, it should be rubbed with lemon or soaked in acidulated water to prevent browning.

Celery roots are apt to be large, and with their tough skins, they look forbidding—not a good investment for the single cook, one would think. But when I discovered how roasting thick slices transformed their flavor into something wonderfully earthy and complex, it was a revelation. So now, during the winter months, I often bring home a big celery root. I’ll use about half of it for roasting, and the other half I’ll make into céléri rémoulade, that bistro standby of julienned raw celery root swathed in a mustardy mayonnaise.

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 it comes to pork ribs, for my money I prefer St. Louis ribs to baby back. They’re long and thin with a good amount of meat, not to mention less expensive. Grilling the ribs to crisp them up after they have slow-roasted for a couple of hours may require a little extra effort, but believe me, you’ll reap the rewards with insanely tasty ribs that will have everyone licking their fingers. A creamy cool slaw and sweet-rich barbecue sauce round out this comfort-food meal.

These small orbs have big celery flavor from both the celery root centers and the celery stock that encapsulates them. The cream cheese gives the celery root a little extra body and tang. The gellan in the water bath reacts with the calcium in the celery root, forming a delicate gel around each orb. They may be heated in the celery stock and served warm like miniature raviolis, topped with brown butter, or hidden in a soup or stew as pockets of exploding flavor. You can also serve the orbs as single bites topped with shaved country ham and chopped celery leaves.

At a recent Kiddush after a Bat Mitzvah service in France, the wine was French, unlike the sweet wine usually served at American synagogues. The food was elegantly prepared, as only the French can do it: spread out on a large table were thin slices of smoked salmon on toast, eggplant rolled and filled with goat cheese, a North African sautéed-pepper salad, squash soup served in tiny cups, and celery-root rémoulade. If you have never eaten celery-root salad, then start now! And if you’ve never made mayonnaise before, it’s an exhilarating and rewarding experience that I highly recommend. Any leftover mayonnaise can be kept in a jar in the refrigerator for a few days.

Turlu is a Turkish dish of mixed seasonal vegetables cooked in olive oil. The winter turlu consists of root vegetables and beans.

We made this in Egypt.

Here’s another fine winter salad, pairing one of my favorite, underappreciated vegetables—celery root—with fresh apples. The mellow, tender cubes of cooked celery root and the crisp apple slices provide a delightful, unexpected combination of flavor and texture. To turn the salad into a light lunch, add a few slices of prosciutto and serve it with some crusty bread. A firm, crisp apple is what you want for salad, and fortunately there are many varieties in the market that have that essential crunch, with flavors ranging from sweet to tangy to tart. I like to use a few different apples, rather than just one type, for greater complexity of flavor and vivid color in the salad. In addition to the reliably crisp Granny Smith apple, I look for some of the old-time firm and tart apples, such as Gravenstein, Jonathan, and Rome, and a few newer strains, like Cameo, Gala, and Fuji.

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.

Much more interesting than plain mashed potatoes, this purée gets an earthy boost from celery root and chervil and an amazing smoothness and richness from a generous amount of cream.

Neal Fraser, Executive Chef and co-owner of Grace and BLD in Los Angeles, shared this recipe with Epicurious. The dish is perfect for entertaining, since the endive and celery root flans can be made ahead and reheated. The garlic nage should be made shortly before serving and kept warm while you quickly sear the turbot. A shaving of earthy black truffles finishes the dish. "Grating them on top makes them soft and allows their perfume to stand out," says Fraser.

This roast, with its light, flavorful vegetable gravy, is perfect for spring.

Prized by gardeners during the Renaissance, celery root, or celeriac, has a light celery flavor and a dense flesh that is perfect for shredding into slaws. This salad is wonderful with the chicken and biscuits or the flank steak. Enjoy any leftovers the next day.

Parsnips, celery root, and sweet potatoes bring depth to this unfussy gratin. Best of all, it requires no "arranging"—you just spread the root vegetables in the baking dish.

We already know you like applesauce with pork, but this soft, creamy purée is so much better. It's like a bowl of puréed potatoes that yearns to be dessert.

Silky smooth and with a crunchy topping, this seductive soup packs a range of flavors — earthy, smoky, and tart-sweet. If you decide to omit the bacon, substitute 1 tablespoon butter when you cook your vegetables.

Celery root (also called celeriac) is one of autumn's most delicious—but least appreciated—vegetables. Here it adds fresh celery flavor to this velvety first-course soup.