senŝeligi

Four pieces, and you already own all four. This is the word to point at when someone says Esperanto vocabulary is just Italian with a hat on. Take it apart: sen- is sen, without. -ŝel- is ŝelo, the peel, rind, shell or bark. -ig- is the causative suffix, to make something be so. -i is the infinitive ending. Put them back together and senŝeligi says to make without a peel. That is what peeling is, described from first principles, by a learner who could not possibly have met the word before and can still read it.

English needs three words where Esperanto needs one seam. We peel an apple, shell a pea and husk corn, and a learner has to memorise which verb goes with which food. Senŝeligi covers all three, because it names the operation rather than the ingredient: whatever the outer layer is called, you are removing it. The same construction gives senakvigi (to dehydrate), senkulpigi (to exonerate) and senarmigi (to disarm), and once you see the shape you can build your own.

-Ig- makes it transitive. Senŝeligi takes an object: you peel something. The mirror form senŝeliĝi with -iĝ- would mean the thing loses its own skin, which is what happens to a snake or to a badly painted wall. The igi / iĝi article is the one to read if that contrast is still slippery, and it is the single most useful distinction in Esperanto word-building.

In the kitchen. Ŝelo itself is worth keeping in mind, because a lot of cooking language hangs off it. Ŝeligi, without the sen-, would mean to put a skin on something, which is rarely what you want. The verb you want in a recipe is the long one.