"The times they are a changin"

Again, my readers of a "certain age" will remember that title, and how that song impacted all of us, in so many ways. Remember sitting around and trying to "figure out" what Bob Dylan REALLY meant when he wrote his songs?
Last night, sitting at dinner with Jonathan and Joe, I was recounting taking religion class with THE FIRST MEN TEACHERS my grammar school had ever hired. One of them was my religion teacher. He taught it via Bob Dylan songs. These were the sixties, remember? To this day, I'm still not sure "Mr. Tambourine Man" is supposed to be a pusher, but that's what Mr. Trainor's seventh grade class considered. And none of us would EVER use a pusher, no siree.
Uh, right.
Well, that reminiscence came up because yes, the times ARE changing. Spring is ALMOST here. Nevia, the vegetable goddess, is planning to be back ahead of schedule. So the early spring greens and pinks are almost here for the cook. Last night, I was pulling out ramp recipes.
And sitting at dinner with Jonathan and Joe last night was a revival of something we haven't done in over ten years. We had a small dinner at home, on Sunday night. I have to say, it was a wonderful evening. It went well past it had any right to, but it felt so right. The discussion of everything from raunch sex to critical theory on St. Teresa's writings (this is my crowd, gang. Be jealous, laugh or do what you like, but it is what it is, and I'm happy to "be here now,") was so engaging that I should feel tired today, and I'm not.
So, all this digression in what should be about food. And it IS about food. I just want to give you the set up to this.
Note that "the times they ARE a changin," not that they HAVE changed. So we're still working with the products of late winter, imminent spring. We had roast chicken. That recipe is early on in this blog. Here's the side dish. I got it from Ina Garten's book, and to me, it's sort of the apotheosis of everything good about winter. (I can use words like that around Joe and Jonathan).
This is a rough puree of apples, celery root, fennel and potatoes. It's amazingly easy to do. We followed Ina's instructions, and Jonathan got a work out in making a passato, but to be honest, when I took it off the stove, I thought we could have served it as it was. You make it and decide. It's not that hard to do.

You need a stick of unsalted butter, half a fennel bulb (make a salad with the other half and oranges the next day), four golden delicious apples, a half pound of potatoes, and two pounds of celery root. You'll also need apple cider, and heavy cream.

The chopping will take a little time. You have to chop the fennel into small, rough pieces, peel and chop the potatoes, do the same with the apples , and also with the celery root. Celery root is intimidating looking. Don't be afraid. Cut two horizontal slices, one from each end, and stand it up. Then run the back end of your knife down each root, until you've taken off the skin. Half it, and then you have what looks like a small, white pineapple. Very easy to chop now.
When you have everything chopped, melt the stick of butter in a BIG pan or pot. Then dump in all the vegetables, half a cup of apple cider, and a big pinch of salt. Cover the pot, lower the heat, and go away for about twenty minutes. Then, come back and check the softness of the CELERY root. This is the veggie that is going to take the longest to cook. If it feels soft enough for you to eat, then you're done. If not, put the cover back and let it cook for another ten minutes, and check again.
I WILL tell you that I had a bit of an issue with carmelization here, maybe because I used a big, wide, shallow pan. It tasted real fine, but if you want something pure white, you're going to want less surface area on your vegetables, and that means a smaller, deeper pot.

When the veggies are soft enough for you, Ina has you pass them through a food mill, for a rough texture, or in the food processor, for a softer one.

Something happens to potatoes in food processors. There is a release of a gummy starch if you process them too much. I've had it happen once or twice. So you can either pulse and watch yourself, or put it through a food mill. It's a texture thing here. When you're done, add some heavy cream. As I think about the dish now, we added less cream than the recipe called for, and that's fine. Again, it's a question of what you like. Add a bit more salt. You do have to taste this along the way, because you're dealing with a collection of vegetables that are really pretty bland.

If you didn't want to puree this, that would be fine with me. I thought the chunks of vegetables looked just fine as they are, almost like a soft "hash." NOT the hash that Mr. Tambourine man is allegedly selling, but hash nonetheless.

This will give you anywhere from four pretty big servings, to eight small ones. Look at the quantities: you have well over 3 pounds of vegetables up there. Pretty healthy ones too.

So, if you have a tambourine around, especially if it's a green one (bonus points to anyone who gets THAT allusion), shake it a few times as you bring the puree out with whatever else you're serving. I can't help but think this is going to be wonderful with duck, or perhaps pork cooked i a citrus sauce. Add your ideas, and make it.

We'll be saying "see ya" to celery root soon. Fennel will be around, in baby form soon, and apples are aways with us, but they won't be at their best. So, give winter "one last hurrah," and make this while you can.

And maybe St. Teresa will send her blessings on you, too