
Celeriac Gratin Dip: Bistro Comfort, California Bright
Fog does funny things to my cravings. The minute it rolls in off the coast, I want something bubbling and bronzed—pure bistro comfort—but I still want it to taste like California: citrusy, a little salty, a little wild.
This Celeriac Gratin Dip with Green Olive–Anchovy Crumbs + Lemon-Herb Finish started as a classic gratin idea (you know the one: creamy, tender layers, top like brûléed sunshine). But celery root—celeriac—has this gorgeous, nutty earthiness that begs for brightness. So I treated it like a dip: scoopable, drag-the-bread-through-it, absolutely zero dignity.
The inspiration? A Paris memory of late-night “let’s just share one more thing” plates—plus my California habit of finishing everything with lemon and herbs like it’s a personality trait. The olive–anchovy crumbs are my salty little wink: crunchy, briny, and somehow they make the whole dish taste more awake.
Make it yours: swap parsley for dill, add chile flakes, or fold in a spoon of crème fraîche if you’re feeling indulgent. And please—serve it hot with something cold in your glass. That’s the point.
Featured Recipe

Celeriac Gratin Dip with Green Olive–Anchovy Crumbs + Lemon-Herb Finish
This is my bistro small-plate love letter to celery root: baked until bubbly and bronzed like a gratin, then finished like a dip you drag bread through with zero dignity. It’s bright and briny from olives and anchovy, but still cozy—exactly the kind of thing I want next to a cold bottle of white (or a very juicy, chilled red) when the fog rolls in.
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Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lb Celeriac (celery root)(peeled, cut into 1-inch chunks)
- 1 1/2 tsp Kosher salt(plus more to taste)
- 2 cloves Garlic(1 smashed for cooking, 1 finely grated)
- 1 Bay leaf
- 3 tbsp Olive oil(plus more for drizzling)
- 1 large Shallot(finely minced)
- 2 tbsp Unsalted butter(I’m opinionated here—use the good stuff)
- 1/3 cup Dry white wine(or dry vermouth)
- 1/2 cup Crème fraîche(sub sour cream if needed)
- 1/2 cup Greek yogurt (full-fat)(for lift and tang)
- 1 tsp Dijon mustard
- 1 Lemon(zest + 1 tbsp juice)
- 1/2 tsp Black pepper(freshly ground)
- 3/4 cup Gruyère(coarsely grated)
- 1/4 cup Parmesan(finely grated)
- 1/2 cup Panko breadcrumbs(or fresh breadcrumbs)
- 1/3 cup Castelvetrano olives(pitted, roughly chopped)
- 2 fillets Anchovy fillets(oil-packed; chopped (optional but very bistro))
- 1 tbsp Capers(drained, roughly chopped)
- 1/2 cup Flat-leaf parsley(leaves and tender stems, chopped)
- 2 tbsp Chives(finely sliced)
- 1 tbsp Tarragon(chopped (optional but very me))
- 1 Sourdough or baguette(for serving, toasted or grilled)
- 1 Endive spears or cucumber slices(optional, for a crunchy, fresh scoop)
- 1 tsp Lemon zest(From 1 lemon; used for brightness in the dip.)
- 2 tbsp Lemon juice(From 1 lemon; used in the dip.)
Instructions
- 1
Heat the oven to 425°F (220°C). Lightly oil a small baking dish (about 8x8-inch) or a 1-quart gratin dish with 3 tbsp olive oil.
5 min
Tip: A shallow dish = more browned edges, which is basically the point.
- 2
Parboil the celeriac: Add 1 1/2 lb Celeriac (celery root) to a pot, cover with cold water, then add 2 cloves Garlic (smashed), 1 Bay leaf, and 1 tsp Kosher salt. Bring to a simmer and cook until the pieces are just tender when pierced (not falling apart), about 10–12 minutes. Drain well and let steam-dry for 2 minutes.
15 min
Tip: Steam-drying keeps the gratin from turning watery—tiny step, big payoff.
- 3
Build the base: In the same pot (wipe it out if you must, but I usually don’t), warm 2 tbsp Olive oil and 2 tbsp Unsalted butter over medium heat. Add 1 large Shallot and cook until soft and sweet, 3–4 minutes. Add the grated garlic and cook 30 seconds. Pour in 1/3 cup Dry white wine and reduce until almost gone.
7 min
Tip: Reducing the wine concentrates flavor without making the dip boozy.
- 4
Blend into a ‘gratin dip’: Add the drained celeriac back to the pot. Add 1/2 cup Crème fraîche, 1/2 cup Greek yogurt (full-fat), 1 tsp Dijon mustard, 2 tbsp Lemon juice, remaining 1/2 tsp Kosher salt, and 1/2 tsp Black pepper. Blend until mostly smooth with a few rustic bits (immersion blender is easiest). Stir in 3/4 cup Gruyère.
5 min
Tip: Stop short of baby-food smooth—I want texture so it eats like a gratin, not hummus.
- 5
Bake: Scrape into the prepared dish. Top with remaining 3/4 cup Gruyère and all the 1/4 cup Parmesan. Bake until bubbling and deeply golden on top, 15–18 minutes.
18 min
Tip: If it’s bubbling at the edges, you’re in the right neighborhood.
- 6
Make the briny crumbs while it bakes: In a small bowl, mix 1/2 cup Panko breadcrumbs, 1/3 cup Castelvetrano olives, 2 fillets Anchovy fillets, 1 tbsp Capers, and 1 tbsp Olive oil. When the gratin comes out, immediately scatter the crumb mix over the top and return to the oven for 3–5 minutes to toast.
8 min
Tip: This is the bright, briny ‘bistro bite’—don’t skip the second bake. It keeps the crumbs crisp.
- 7
Herb finish (the California sun part): Let the gratin rest 5 minutes. Shower with 1/2 cup Flat-leaf parsley, 2 tbsp Chives, and 1 tbsp Tarragon. Add a final drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of flaky salt if you’re that person (I am).
7 min
Tip: Herbs on top, not inside: they stay vivid and perfumed instead of tasting like lawn clippings.
- 8
Serve warm with toasted 1 Sourdough or baguette, 1 Endive spears or cucumber slices, or crisp cucumber. Put it in the center of the table and let everyone “accidentally” double-dip.
3 min
Tip: If you’re opening wine: this loves a salty Muscadet, a Provence rosé, or a chilled Gamay with some pep.
Chef's Notes
This dish exists because celery root has the personality of a Parisian regular: a little gnarly-looking, secretly elegant, and wildly lovable once you give it butter and attention. The olive–anchovy crumb is my cheat code for “pair me with wine”: salty, punchy, and crisp against that creamy gratin base. Make it ahead: bake the celeriac base and refrigerate; rewarm until bubbling, then do the crumb + herb finish right before serving so it stays bright.
Marguerite Lavigne
French soul, California sun
I grew up in a small village outside Lyon, where my grandmother taught me that the best meals come from respecting your ingredients. After training at Le Cordon Bleu and spending years in Parisian kitchens, I moved to San Francisco and fell in love with California's farmers markets and wine country. Now I cook the food I wish my grandmother could taste—French technique with California abundance, where a perfect roast chicken might come with Meyer lemon and wild fennel instead of tarragon.