This meaty technique will make any veggies disappear

Braising can make even celery into a showstopper

Editor’s note: Welcome back to Cool Beans, where we’re serving up inspiration for your meatless Mondays—on Thursdays. Corinne here, staring down the official start of autumn like it’s a bushel of heirloom apples at the farmers market. Here at The Bean, we love seasonal fruits and veggies just as much as we love exploring cooking methods that make roughage the most craveable food on any table. 

This week, Gabriella is satisfying those cravings by digging into how braising—a technique often reserved for meat—can supercharge the flavor of fall’s hearty veggie bounty. Her centerpiece ingredient is celery, a crunchy crudité that gets nowhere near enough credit, but you can apply the method to anything from parsnips to cabbage.

Paid subscribers also get an abbreviated master class on how to braise any veggie, plus her recipe for the best celery you’ll ever eat. 

As always, if you think that sounds delicious, please share Cool Beans with your hungriest friends.   

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I’m a sucker for celery—celery seeds, celery soda, and pretty much anything related to the underappreciated veg. Maybe I’m from another era? At one point in America’s culinary history, celery was an absolute star, and between 1900 and 1949, 20% to 40% of restaurants had a celery-centered dish on the menu. In the 1950s, though, American farmers mastered its cultivation, and the stalks shifted from a luxury to an everyday affair.

Celery became so basic that it lost its place in the cool veggie circle, relegated to crudité platters, Blood Marys, and ants on a log. In its heyday, though, chefs used techniques we commonly associate with meat to elevate the humble stalks. Today we’re digging into how braising—cooking slowly in a shallow aromatic broth—can make celery (and any other less exciting veg) into a flavor superstar. 

The review: A dish guaranteed to make anyone crave celery

Celery victorious! Credit: Gabriella Vigoreaux

I first encountered the throwback salad known as celery Victor on the menu at Inga’s Bar in the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood of New York City. The dish was created in the early 1900s by Victor Hirtzler, the chef at Hotel St. Francis in San Francisco. In Hirtzler’s iconic plate, trimmed celery is quickly braised and cooled in broth until it’s barely tender, then served with a tarragon vinaigrette and a garnish of celery leaves. Sometimes cooks add anchovies as the final flourish.

At Inga’s, those flourishes are multiplied. Chef Tirzah Stashko’s modern take brings in more than 20 ingredients and three make-ahead components (stock, pickled mustard seeds, and garlic-anchovy paste). This recipe isn’t exactly designed for home cooks, but its central technique honors its predecessor’s reputation as a celery-based salad that’ll surprise you.

Despite all the prep associated with pickling and paste-making, those additions are grace notes to big, bold celery flavor. The stalks and scallions simmer in a carrot-infused veggie stock zhuzhed up with lemon, garlic, thyme, and bay leaves until just tender. The stock gets strained and poured over the veggies, and the whole thing hangs out in the fridge for at least an hour but up to overnight to absorb even more flavor. 

Check out the full recipe for Inga’s celery Victor at The New York Times

After the chill sesh, the veggies get sliced and tossed with the mustard seeds, garlic-anchovy paste, greens, sherry vinegar, parsley, celery leaves, and heaps of shaved Parmesan. (Because we’re Earth-friendly eaters here at The Bean, we’ve gotta point out that you can sub vegan parm for the dairy variety and that anchovies are among the lowest-emission animal proteins you can get.)

If you’re tempted to try this one at home, know that this salad is a commitment. However, if you make the pickled mustard seeds and garlic-anchovy paste and stock in advance, it could come together in minutes. I might also skip infusing the stock with carrots to save even more time. 

The final result is reminiscent of a Caesar salad, with the perfect balance of sweet, salt, brine, and spice. It’s crunchy and nutty, putting this dish dead center in the category of “dangerously addictive.” The celery itself is completely transformed by the braising and shines even without its co-stars. Sweet and tender, it retains a bit of bite without any of the stringiness that puts so many celery haters off. This salad is proof positive that cooking veggies like meat, via the gentle technique of braising, can turn even the most boring roughage into a showstopper.

The guide: How to braise any vegetable