Celery

Celery is water with structure, and that structure is what you eat. Inside every stalk run ribbed strings, tight and fibrous under your thumbnail. That is why a fresh stalk snaps cleanly and loudly, and why a tired one just bends and sighs. Learn to listen when you buy it.

Choose celery the way you choose a good knife: by how it behaves, not by how it looks. The stalk should be tight, pale to bright green, firm enough to snap in half with one clean crack. Leaves should stand up, not wilt. Smell it too — sharp, grassy, a little peppery. If it smells of nothing, it will taste of nothing.

Some people say limp celery is fine; you can always fix it in the pot. No! Limp means the water inside has already left, and with it, the crunch you were counting on. Cooking will not bring that back. The mistake this leads to is simple and common: cooks throw soft celery straight into soup, wondering why the texture disappears and the taste turns flat. Crisp it in cold water first, or better — buy it fresh, and use it fast.