I’m assuming it is a thing because many people go out on Friday night (doh). And some of these people (who I refer to as whipper snappers) spend Thursday evening flapping about naked while covered in brown goo. Either that’s a fun time for them or it is so that come Friday night they can – in best Daily Mail-speak – proudly display their cleavage or legs, pretending they live in Miami.
Please, please not both. Unless that too is now a thing.
Has a vegetable ever looked so unpromising? Bless.
So, after quickly changing the station from Hipster FM, or whatever Rachel had on before she jumped out of the car, I pondered how gradually I have become slightly out of tune with what’s new. Or not even new, just accepted as part of the cultural landscape. Tanning Thursday is most assuredly part of the cultural landscape of anyone under 30. And as I listened to the trippy beats of BBC Radio 3 (joke) I decided that I didn’t care. I am happy to know about TT but I don’t feel the need to exfoliate within an inch of my life and muck up my bathroom. I like the classic me.
And we – all of us at food to glow – LOVE classic celeriac remoulade. Well, sorta classic. I do of course have to get my sticky paws on all recipes and give them a shake. But I haven’t healthified it in any way except given an option to use a lower fat creme fraiche.
We have this as soon as solid, heavy-as-lead (and low-carb, if you care about such things) celeriac comes into the shops and markets, choosing smaller ones for better flavour (the old big ones can be woody inside). I use celeriac in all manner of ways – in soups, gratins, tagines, veg bakes, to lighten up mashed potatoes. But the king of celeriac dishes is classic remoulade – mayonnaisey, mustardy remoulade. Found at French petrol stations (where I first bought it!) and in French fancy restaurants, but easily and quickly made in your own kitchen. I absolutely love it. Andrew says it is his favourite salad. As I type he has just fed me a forkful of celeriac remoulade to test it (he’s prepping for our office Christmas dinner party). True! Had to stop and wipe my chin.
De.Li.Cious.
This no-cook, easy-peasy recipe is quick to make and goes with almost anything – at home beside a roast, a certain cauliflower cheese cake, grilled fish, topped with strips of Scottish smoked salmon (this will be the starter at our work Christmas dinner party tomorrow), in a roll at a picnic. And most especially with Christmas leftovers. So, when you are doing the Christmas grocery run(s) do consider popping this great hunk of a vegetable into the trolley. If you have never had remoulade I urge you to see past the rather turnip-looking exterior and give it a try. Inside it is snow-white, so visually a perfect winter root for Christmas. A bowl of remoulade looks like a bowl of edible snow. If, that is, your eyesight is going like mine.
And, just so there is no confusion, celeriac – also called celery root, turnip-rooted celery and knob celery – is not actually the root of the celery plant. It is related, but it is its own thing. Not a Tanning Thursday thing, but instead the basis of a classic.
Another Christmas leftovers-friendly salad for you, my dear friend, coming very soon. Not white and not a classic. But most definitely a thing.
Celeriac Remoulade
This is the easiest French dish I know. The key to such a simple recipe is the quality of the ingredients: firm, heavy for its size celeriac, proper snappy Dijon mustard, best mayonnaise (homemade or bought), and I also like to add thick, acidic crème fraiche. It goes with nearly anything you might slap on the table for dinner, or in a picnic basket. And it positively loves Christmas leftovers.
1 small-medium celeriac {about 700g/1.5 lb}, scrubbed
Juice of 1 large lemon
3 tbsp best – preferably French – mayonnaise {vegans: use your best vegan mayo to 6 tbsp}
3 tbsp crème fraiche {half-fat okay if good quality}
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
½ tsp white or black pepper
Salt, to taste (I don’t think it needs it though)
1. Mix together the lemon juice, mayo, crème fraiche, mustard and pepper in a large bowl. Set aside.
2. Now take a sharp knife and cut away the skin of the celeriac. It isn’t difficult but does take some patience to get around the inevitable nobbly bits. Make a start by topping and tailing it, then stand it on one end and cutting downward, following its curve. Give the whole thing a rinse and a pat dry. Now it is time to grate.
3. You can grate it by hand on a box grater, but if you have a food processor with a grating plate, use this. Or, a mandoline. I am slightly frightened of mine… Put the grated celeriac in the bowl with the creamy-white dressing and fold it together. Taste for seasoning, adjusting as needed. Sometimes people like to add parsley {I do occasionally}, horseradish, or grated tart apple. But we like it just like this.
Eat within two days.
celeriac remoulade and friend