August 21, 2024

Celery In Excess (or What to do when you buy a mid ingredient)

No shade on celery. I’m sure it has an abundance of friends and lovers, and that it has someone to call when a body needs burying¹. I am just not that person. Celeriac, that knobbly little imp, I love, adore, try to grow, fail to grow most years. But celery? It’s fine. I will prepare it for a platter of snacky bits, but I won’t be excited. It’s no carrot stick, and as a vehicle for hummus - have we met supermarket value brand tortilla crisps? C’mon!

Astute (and incredibly sexy) readers of this bloglet will recall that celery was in my possession partly in aid of the previous recipe. It’s the perennial recipe-follower’s issue - how much money am I willing to lay out for something I will use one teaspoon or two sticks of before consigning to spice losing-flavour-limbo or a week of not being in the compost bin and then being in the compost bin on (only with an air of defeat). I’m trying with this book to choose recipes that fit my general eatingness (up until a point, then I will gather people round for a feast of seared scallops and some second thing I am not going to waste time thinking of), as well as ingredients we have, like, or will use.

So I bought celery for the last recipe, went away for the weekend, and then, well. Not exactly something you can add to a stir-fry or steam on the side of pasta, is it? (Not yet. Perhaps I will find a way). I cut up one celery stick yesterday and had it with hummus. It was good. I liked it on the side of my little late lunch open sandwich. But I got bored. I didn’t finish them, and sometimes when I try to eat things I’m not at least 70% in the mood for, I grow resentful.

Which brings me to a recipe I think I’m going to be 80% + in the mood for throughout the next fortnight. Like, I’m gonna try to not just write about variations of this recipe for the next week or so. Although, if I do, well. That’s okay? I mean, I think I’ll still be learning. And eating. And eating is the important part.

Celery was in hand, as was the required Dijon, but what of the other main components of Sohla’s take on the Waldorf²?

Apples and grapes are a treat, so was happy to buy. Walnuts are one of the dusty nuts, not something I’m in the habit of buying, but I figured toasted they’ll be eaten/added to something before they disintegrate (length of time in cupboard might have added to my perception of their dustiness). Tofu (a suggested addition, not a requirement) we eat - though I felt the silken stuff we order in bulk might not work, so got some of the firmer, sits-in-its-own-juices kind. Buttermilk, too, which isn’t exactly high on the hip vegan alternatives list, so I got some soy milk³ (which I will use for homemade vegan mayo as well) and a real life lemon to curdle it up with. Oh, and blue cheese, because I liked the idea of having blue cheese.

Yes, catering to an ingredient that you’re not too fussed about can lead to buying a whole load of other ingredients. Is this more wasteful than forgetting to do something with the celery for the next two weeks until one of us throws it away? Maybe. But now we have apples and grapes and blue cheese in the house, as well as a salad I like!

To demonstrate application of lessons from the book so far:

1. I did indeed make a game plan (there were things like when and how to cook the tofu that were on there but not thought about, as well as wiping surface and getting laptop-type prep, that needed adjustments. Some of those thoughts just wasting away from my brain smarts).

2. I tasted! I tasted lots, and kept adding (particularly pepper) when I felt something wasn’t there, rather than just letting it be. I tasted the dressing and made it so it was just damn good. I used my finger tips to taste (drops from the whisk), rather than any one component (though I did try them as I went).

3. Good girl, *petting*

4. Also, this recipe uses honey. I just went agave and teench of maple syrup when we ran out. I tasted the dressing, thought “that’s a bit dry”, knew there was no more agave and tipped the littlest bit of maple in. And tasted again and it didn’t taste of pancakes, but needed more, so I added more and wow. What a great student.

5. I ALSO! wrote notes beside the recipe (more walnuts etc), so my thoughts are captured and I don’t have to remember my memories.

6. Do you know how many grapes in a cup of grapes?

   

   About 30-40, depending on size. Could be a quiz question some day. You never know. I might get into quiz content.⁴

   

It was really good! The tofu was dusted in flour and fried, so added not much to proceedings (but I have thoughts), and the blue cheese was fun for me, but not necessary imo flavour-wise. I would double the walnuts and I’m thinking next time maybe squishing some of the grapes to get into the dressing. As a meal, it’s a real everything forker. Each bit is fine on its own, but when you skewer a lil’ touch of everything on that fork and get it in the mouth. Wow. Noms. Noms galore.

I would also recommend a slicín of bread or some oat cakes or something starchy, because I’m super hungry now and it’s half-five. Which might be just because it’s half five, but I don’t think I’ll make it to dinner. Starches are important. nods

Lessons are paying off, new salad in the back pocket, I’m excited to try variations and I have an excuse to have a lil late afternoon snacky.

Everything’s really coming up celery.