Why Celeriac Deserves a Bigger Role

It is one of the least prepossessing things in the greengrocer’s: a lumpen, whiskery, mud-coloured sphere that looks like something dug up reluctantly and offered without conviction. Celeriac wins no beauty contests. But under that forbidding exterior lies one of the most versatile and quietly delicious vegetables you can cook, a root with the fresh, savoury note of celery and the comforting starch of a good potato, capable of turning its hand to soups, purees, roasts, salads and gratins with equal grace. It deserves a far bigger role than most kitchens give it.

Part of the problem is simply that people do not know what to do with it, put off by the peeling and the unfamiliarity. Yet celeriac is no harder to handle than a swede, keeps for weeks in the cold, and rewards almost every technique you throw at it. Learn a few of its uses and it becomes one of those reliable winter staples you wonder how you ever managed without.

What it tastes like, and why that matters

Celeriac tastes, unsurprisingly, gently of celery, but softened and made earthy, with a faint nuttiness and a savoury depth that raw celery never has. Cooked, it turns silky and sweet; raw, it is crisp and refreshing. That range is its great asset. It can be the star of a dish or a quiet supporting player, and it plays beautifully against rich meats, sharp cheeses, mustard and apples. Sea vegetables can play a similarly bright supporting role, as why samphire deserves a bigger role considers.

Crucially, it brings savoury depth without heaviness, which makes it invaluable in the kind of cooking that wants flavour without stodge. A little celeriac in the base of a soup or stew adds a rounded, almost meaty background note; it is one of the quiet workhorses that, like a good homemade stock, builds flavour from the bottom up rather than shouting from the top.

The best ways to cook it

Celeriac’s versatility is best understood through its greatest hits, each of which shows a different side of the root.

• Puree: peeled, simmered soft in milk or stock and blitzed with butter, it makes a puree lighter and more interesting than mashed potato, and a superb bed for roast meats.
• Roasted: cut into wedges or chunks, tossed in oil and roasted hard, it caramelises at the edges and turns sweet and tender within.
• Remoulade: cut raw into fine matchsticks and dressed in a mustardy mayonnaise, it becomes the classic French salad, crunchy and sharp.
• Soup: softened with leek and potato and blended smooth, it makes a velvety, elegant winter bowl.

Roasting is perhaps the quickest conversion for the sceptic; the same caramelising, edge-crisping heat that transforms so many things in the oven works its usual magic here, the principle that underlies everything from the perfect roast chicken to a tray of winter roots. Give celeriac real heat and real space and it rewards you with sweetness and colour.

The trick with celeriac is confidence. It is a robust, forgiving vegetable, and it responds to bold treatment, hard roasting, generous butter, sharp mustard, far better than to timidity.

Handling and storing

The only real obstacle is the peeling, and it is easily overcome. Cut a flat base so the root sits steady, then slice the knobbly skin away with a sharp knife rather than fighting it with a peeler; the whiskery underside is too irregular for anything else. Work with a good blade and it takes moments. Once peeled it discolours a little, so drop it into acidulated water if you are not using it at once.

A whole celeriac keeps for weeks in the bottom of the fridge or a cool larder, which makes it a natural companion to the other keeping vegetables of the cold months. It belongs in the same considered store as the roots and tubers celebrated in our piece on the revival of the cool larder and root store, the humble provisions that quietly see a household through a season.

A case for the underdog

What celeriac really offers is range for very little money and effort. It is inexpensive, keeps well, and does more different jobs than almost any other vegetable in the winter basket. It flatters rich food and lightens heavy food, works raw and cooked, and brings a savoury complexity that few roots can match. The only thing standing between most cooks and all of that is a moment’s hesitation at the greengrocer’s over an unlovely knobbly ball. Another knobbly, overlooked root that rewards the same curiosity is considered in why salsify deserves a bigger role.

It is worth remembering, too, that celeriac plays beautifully with a handful of classic partners, and learning those pairings unlocks most of what you will ever want to do with it. Apple and mustard bring out its freshness; cream, butter and nutmeg lean into its comfort; smoked and cured meats find in it a savoury, earthy foil. Truffle, famously, adores it, which is why grand restaurants so often pair the two. But you need no truffle to enjoy celeriac; a little good butter and seasoning is enough to show why the root deserves far more room on the plate than habit usually grants it.

Value, in the end, is much of the case for it. Celeriac is among the cheapest things in the winter greengrocer’s, keeps for weeks with no fuss, and turns its hand to soup, puree, roast, gratin and salad from a single unglamorous root. In a season when good vegetables can feel scarce and expensive, that combination of thrift, longevity and versatility is quietly precious. It asks only that you get past its looks and learn a use or two, and it repays that small effort many times over across the whole of the cold half of the year.

Get past the looks, learn two or three of its uses, and celeriac quietly becomes a fixture of your cooking through the colder half of the year. It is the sort of ingredient that rewards a little curiosity many times over, exactly the kind our Dining & Drinks pages love to champion, and it deserves a place near the front of the basket rather than the back of the shelf. A good vegetable, well handled and generously used, remains one of the great quiet pleasures of the kitchen, and celeriac is among the very best of them.