I had an enormous hankering for remoulade anything yesterday and so at the market picked up a celery root and bunch of celery, just in case. Today was fun but too busy to do anything but keep going, but late in the afternoon, as Tom drove the boys to his parents' house for a sleepover (yay!), I asked him to pick up a pound of shrimp on his way home. Remoulade was happening. I peeled and julienned the hairy, alien-like orb that is a celery root. I sliced some celery on the diagonal, and a handful of their leaves too. For good measure and to prevent browning, I doused all that with a hefty bath of lemon juice. I peeled and quick-boiled the shrimp in amply-salted water, slivered some green onions and whipped up a mustardy, horseradishy remoulade sauce. And then I mixed it all together happily, ogling its golden hue and inhaling its tangy fragrance deeply. It was so good. So fresh and bright and salty and lemony and seafoody and satisfying.
And all the while, a peach pie cooked in the oven, becoming golden and fragrant itself. And in our quiet home, we smelled good smells and watched Catching Fire and the newest episode of The Knick, and I thought about a powerful conversation I had earlier today and I felt good.