seared scallops and pureed celery root gratinee

When I was seven, I went on vacation with my family to Sarasota, Florida. We stayed in the house of a family friend, Shirley Apple, whose mother, Ma Core, lived with her. They were so nice to us. They had a miniature train and track in their front yard that was big enough for me and my brothers to ride. And they had a banana tree in their back yard. We we warned to look out for alligators because an overflow water ditch ran behind the banana tree. A train with the potential to be eaten alive was easily one of the best vacations. Ever.

We made most of our meals that vacation. One afternoon, I went to the kitchen to see what was cooking. Something didn't smell right. Lifting a lid off of a pot, I saw giant white marshmallows piled on top of each other, swimming in butter. Naturally, I assumed we were having Rice Krispie treats, even though the blue box of cereal was nowhere to be found. I put my finger on to a marshmallow to get a taste. Sure, it would burn, but it would be worth it. But the marshmallow didn't give. So, I got a spoon and cut off a big bite, along with some butter. It was the most horrible thing I'd ever tasted. Just then, my dad walked in and asked how the scallops tasted. Scallops. We weren't having Rice Krispie treats. We were having seafood. And I hated seafood. Dad ended up overcooking the scallops and threw them away, sparing me from skipping dinner that night.

Since then, I've spent most of my life avoiding seafood, and scallops in particular. Then, I'd try bites of Karen's crab, lobster, whatever. And most of the time I liked it. So...

I decided in the last year to learn how to cook seafood. Anything I could find. I can nail a lobster and make a killer aqua pazzo. Then I got Barbara Lynch's cookbook, Stir, and she loves scallops. And I love Barbara Lynch. So, using the transitive theory, I should like scallops. Based on this single recipe, Barbara converted me. It's easy and spectacular. Crunchy, sweet, and smooth. Butter and sea, but in a good way this time. Make this.

Note - if you haven't tried celery root before, think of celery-flavored potatoes, but in a good way. They'll make you happy. Even if you don't want to make the scallops (which I can understand only if you're allergic to seafood like one of my brothers), make the celery root gratinee. 

Seared Scallops and Pureed Celery Root Gratinee, Adapted from Barbara Lynch's Stir cookbook (which is one of the best cookbooks of the last year)

This will feed up to four people. The second time you make it, you'll want to double the celery root because it's amazing.

• Get four scallops per person. Or three. I won't tell you how to live your life.
• Get a celery root. Whole Foods has them. Our Stop & Shop has them, too. Celery roots are not inherently elitist. They're roots.
• 1 c. of whole milk
• 1/2 cup of panko bread crumbs
• 2 tablespoons of butter, maybe a little more
• Some chives or 1 green onion (the sort-of-green part worked well, and it's cheaper than chives), sliced paper thin
• 1/2 granny smith apple (in honor of the Apple-Core family), diced right before you need it at the end
• A flavorless oil of you choice. Maybe a tablespoon.

Make the celery root
Peel the celery root. A normal vegetable peeler works fine. Cut it up into chunks. You're going to puree it later, so don't worry about uniform pieces. I know chefs will disagree and say that the pieces need to cook at the same rate, but really, move on. You have other things to do. Cover it with the milk. Add a little more to cover the celery root if you need, because the root turns brown where it's exposed. I know because I didn't fully cover it. It's unsightly. Cook it until you can easily stick a fork or a sharp knife into it. Maybe 15 minutes or so. Puree it. Or mash it like you would potatoes. If you have a stick blender, use it. Add one tablespoon of the butter. Stir it until it melts. Add a bit of salt, maybe half a teaspoon. Add in white pepper if you have it or black if you don't. Taste. Adjust salt until you're happy with it. It'll stay warm through the next bit. You can heat it up a little if you need.

Make the toasted breadcrumbs

Melt the rest of the butter on medium and add in the panko. Keep stiring them over the heat. Keep them moving, or they'll burn. Get them golden brown. Dump them on a plate so they don't continue to brown.

Get ready

Get your plates out. Have your apple and onions ready to go. Now, cook the scallops.

Cook the scallops. Remember they are not marshmallows

Scallops need to be treated gently but with confidence. Screw up your courage and be cool. You can own this. Ready?

Get a non-stick skillet hot, maybe over medium high. You want it ready for the scallops. Once hot, add a little bit of vegetable/canola/grapeseed oil. Our stove is uneven, so all the oil gathers to the lower left of the pan. I skate the scallop through the oil, spreading them out in the pan. Set the timer for two minutes. Don't estimate. You will get distracted by your children or your wine. Look for a beautiful sear, a dark golden brown. If you don't think they're dark enough, let 'em cook longer. Stay present and watch them. Stop drinking, pay attention. Turn them over. Tongs work nicely and so will your fingers. Be brave. 90 seconds to 2 minutes more on the other side. While the scallops cook this last bit, spread out the celery root gratinee in an artsy way on the plate. Place the cooked scallops on top, again using your creative powers for good. Top with panko, then apple, and finally the onions.

Take a bite. Isn't Barbara Lynch brilliant? And don't you wish you had a train to ride in your front yard? Or an alligator in the back?