What's for dinner? Celeriac recipes from The Currabinny Cooks
Celeriac, Chives, and Cheddar
We are now well into November — a time that in many ways feels like an ending of things. The year is almost out and the festive season is about to begin. November is when the very last of the leaves fall and our evenings are stolen by darkness. We both love this time of year — the quiet before the storm perhaps. It is time to go for long walks among the bare trees on soft carpets of brown and amber leaves. Time to steal those last moments of reflection before the rush and bustle of Christmas hits us. In towns and cities, the crisp air smells faintly of firewood and everyone you come across seems to be rushing homewards. This is a good time to spend long, dark afternoons in the kitchen, with the radio on loud to keep you company. I feel like we get a lot of good experimentation done in these few weeks before Christmas.
Comfort in food comes from more than just eating. Time to play with great ingredients in one's own kitchen is something to be cherished indeed. Recently I picked up two very dirty, very ugly looking celeriac or 'celery root' as some call them. These tuberous monsters might look like ghastly triffids, but to me they are a thing of beauty. The beauty of celeriac lies, surprisingly and despite first appearances, in its subtlety of flavour. Celeriac does indeed have something of the flavour of celery, for they are just two varieties of the same plant. It is, however, far more gentle, more refined and altogether more robust. Besides the obvious savoury, vegetal, inexplicably rain-water-like flavour of celery, you also get a smoother, nuttier note, which pacifies and soothes the palette. This romanticising of celeriac is even more appropriate when you peel off its tendrils and muddy exterior to reveal the beautifully snow-like, crisp interior.
