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.

ROASTING VEGETABLES BRINGS OUT THEIR TRUE FLAVORS, and tossing them in a vinaigrette before roasting accentuates the flavors even more. Although red bell peppers are not an autumn vegetable, they add an undeniable flavor and color contrast to the other vegetables. Cut the vegetables into uniform pieces to ensure even cooking.

The flavors of celery root and potato combine so perfectly that they form a new flavor all its own. Not only are they delicious together in purées, but they also make an excellent gratin (see Potato Gratin, page 318).

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.

There is something uplifting about refreshing food eaten on a frosty day. What follows is a light, fresh-tasting salad that makes your eyes sparkle.

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).

Once the snowdrops are out and the buds on the trees start breaking, I have usually had enough of mashed, roasted, and baked roots and am gasping for the fresh greens of spring. As the root season draws to a close, I find a dish of parsnips and celery root, thinly sliced and slowly baked, makes a pleasant enough change. Sweet and yielding, this is both an accompaniment and a vegetable dish in its own right. I have used the quantities below as a main dish for two before now.

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.

Long associated with the finale of the Christmas meal, Stilton and celery is a fine combination and there is every reason to turn it into a soup. I’m not sure it matters which blue cheese you use but the saltier types tend to be more interesting here. A good Stilton will work well enough, but something with more punch—say Picos, Roquefort, Stichelton, or Cashel Blue—would get my vote, as would good old Danish Blue. Cream is usually a given with celery soup, but I am not sure you need it.