Celeriac

Mustard oils sharpen the phthalides; raw julienne needs the bite to stay crisp.

Egg fat holds the perfume that would otherwise fade in ten minutes.

Celeriac is dense and dull alone. Julienned apple is the acid and the crunch.

Malic acid against a savoury root; both stay crunchy and neither dominates.

Starch gives the puree body celeriac cannot; celeriac gives it the flavour.

Fat carries phthalides better than water, so the soup smells like the raw root.

Resin and anise sit in the same warm register once the root has caramelised.

Nutty root purée gives the plate the fat and the softness the meat lacks.

Tannin and bitter oil match the root faint bitterness rather than covering it.

Roasted, both go nutty on the same pyrazines; the nut just gets there first.

Mustard heat over an earthy root; a Central European grated salad in one line.

Remoulade against ham: mustard, root sweetness and salt in one forkful.

Buried in embers whole. The ash crust seasons and insulates at once.

The root already smells slightly of earth and mushroom. Truffle finishes the sentence.

Sweet and mineral against nutty and mineral; the puree is a restaurant reflex.

Earthy root against orchard fruit; the alcohol carries phthalide that water leaves behind.

Both mineral and faintly saline. Raw ribbons read as a landlocked oyster.