Month: May 2017

fried sweetbreads, butter, lemon; tomato; asparagus/ramps

It was another anniversary, this one even more difficult to explain than most, so I’m not going to try.

I will explain what we celebrated it with.

Sweetbreads.

I’ve cooked them before, but always as a braise, incorporating a number of aromatic vegetables and ending up with a real sauce. This time I decided I wanted to go for a minimal treatment, meaning, breaded and sautéed, finished with butter, lemon, and an unusual aromatic micro green.

Looking around for a basic treatment, I basically transcribed the routine that James Peterson shows to Martha Stewart in this video.

They had the taste and texture of veal cutlets good enough to be served to the angels, if angels ate. Fortunately we both do.

I accompanied them with asparagus because, well, ..asparagus, and there were also ramps, for the same reason. Both were delicious, even if we had to deal with the fact that I forgot to snap off the tough bottoms of the asparagus (even peeled, they can be pretty chewy).

The tomatoes were introduced for color, but their acidity was a good complement to the richness of the sweetbreads.

  • one frozen package of veal sweetbreads (.65 lbs), from Consider Bardwell Farm, defrosted slowly and soaked in salted water overnight, the next day, covered with cold water, slowly brought to the simmer and kept inside the pan for maybe about 5 to ten minutes), the sweetbreads then drained and spread out on a sheet panon top of a piece of parchment paper large enough to be drawn over it and another sheet pan, weighted (I used some filled cans), placed on top, the whole contraption allowed to rest in the refrigerator for 6 or 7 hours, after which the meat was placed on the counter and any little pieces of fat and tissue removed, the sweetbreads then sliced into sections about half an inch thick, dipped in local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour, then in a bowl in which one local egg from Millport Dairy Farm had been beaten with salt, and finally coated with some fine homemade crumbs from a variety of local breads, gently sautéed in clarified butter over a medium hot flame, keeping them at a medium sizzle (shaking them as they were first placed into the pan, to keep them from sticking), removed to 2 plates, where they were drizzled with a little melted butter in which some cut garlic mustard (flowers and the smaller, more tender leaves) from Windfall Farms, had been tossed, and a little juice of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • four halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market placed, cut side down, into the pan for a couple minutes after the sweetbreads had been removed, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and arranged on the plates
  • eighteen or so stalks of moderately-thick-stemmed green asparagus spears from Stokes Farm, trimmed, the thicker sections of the stems peeled, mixed with the white sections of 8 or so ramps from Berried Treasures rolled with a handful of thyme branches from Eataly in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 20 minutes removed to 2 plates and drizzled with more juice from the sweet local lemon
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Paul Hindemith’s 1956-1957 opera, ‘Die Harmonie Der Welt’, performed by  Marek Janowski conducting the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Berlin Radio Chorus [the piece is based on the work of Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), astronomer, astrologist, theologian, philosopher and mathematician]

breaded marinated swordfish; potatoes; mustard spinach

Super.

This was one of the best swordfish entrées I’ve ever had. I can’t account for the reason, taste, texture, and a good appearance came together to present us with a certain kind of perfection. It must have started with the fish’s extraordinary freshness, since I’m aware of the large variable in the number of days between a swordfish catch in deep waters and its arrival in a market stall, even when the fishmonger can be depended on for freshness and the stall is close to the fisherman’s port.

The other obvious variable is the competence – or, often as not, the luck – of the cook. I cook swordfish regularly, and know what I’m doing, but I was really lucky this time.

I had on hand a few tiny potatoes, and I thought this was as good an opportunity as any to make good use of them before they would, so to speak, return to the earth. Even more of a recommendation for adding them to the dinner was the delicate garnish (actually, more than a garnish) of young garlic mustard [alliaria petiolata] which I had picked up the same day as the swordfish.

The green vegetable was something I had never come across before Saturday, but I’ll now be keeping my eye out for it. In addition to its general rareness, Japanese mustard spinach (or Komatsuna)  is apparently unable to withstand summer heat, so it’s available only in the spring and the fall, but it’s well worth the hunt. My Greenmarket purveyor was Gorzynski Ornery Farm, owned, together with his wife and family, by John Gorzynski, a local farmer whose integrity is famous, second to none, for decades a powerful advocate for organic agriculture and small-scale growers.

Mustard spinach is neither mustard, nor spinach, but a member of the enormous Brassica rapa family.

crab cakes with a spicy salsa; arugula; potatoes and leeks

This meal is mostly a lesson in improvisation, born of the need to scour both a freezer and a refrigerator to come up with a meal almost at the last moment. We had expected to be out until very late on Friday night, so I had not purchased anything that could be used for an entrée, or even a fresh green vegetable. Still, when our plans changed at the last minute, meaning now we would be home, I was able to recover the field, thanks to electrical refrigeration.

The potatoes and the leeks were both a little long in the tooth, but they cleaned up nice, and neither had lost any of the goodness they’d originally promised.

pork belly porchetta; Kartoffelklöße; asparagus with thyme

I had expected to reserve a third of the little roast for another day, but, seduced by the appearance on the plate of one slice, I decided it wouldn’t hurt us to have it all last night.

I become slightly obsessed with the idea of preparing pork belly, but when I had finally purchased a piece uptown on Tuesday I still had little idea of how I would cook it. I put it off for several days, deciding that each of the suggestions I found required more preparation and cooking time than I would be able to allow myself.

On Thursday I was ready.

I’d thought I would end up with a German meal, and had purchased a package of frozen German potato dumplings at the same time as the pork, but the formula I went with (mostly) was totally Italian (I kept the Kartoffelklöße, because I knew there might be the makings of a sauce, and they’re designed for a sauce; also, I really, really like Kartoffelklöße.

Altogether, the menu was something of a hybrid.

I had a lot of fun preparing and assembling the rolled roast, and I enjoyed the 2-hour break in the middle of the process. It took only a few minutes to make the sauce, and the vegetables were almost an automatic process, once they had been trimmed.

I had purchased those thick asparagus spears on Monday and kept them in water inside a vase on the counter. They had been a ‘given’ for this meal from the very beginning (or even before) and so of course they stayed to the end.

Everything looked wonderful on the plates, and it was all really really delicious. There was also that aroma going on for hours!

The cost of the pork was surprisingly modest, especially considering its merits, something which gladdens the heart of almost any homecook.

The actual process left me with one question about the meat, but it’s really only a technical one: There were almost no juices in the pan at the end (although I was able to coach what there was into a terrific sauce), so where did all the fat disappear to?

  • one piece (22 ounces) of pork belly from Schaller & Weber, washed, thoroughly dried, scored through the skin layer only along the narrow width at one-inch intervals, in order to ensure crispiness in the end, and ease in carving, placed skin side down, rubbed with sea salt, and some coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, covered and left alone for 15 minutes, 1 teaspoon of fennel seeds, previously heated inside a small cast iron frying pan until they had become wonderfully fragrant, 2 squashed garlic cloves from Berried Treasures, zest from half of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and lots of fresh thyme, sage & rosemary, all from Stokes Farm, leaves removed from stems and roughly chopped, placed on top of the belly, which was then rolled up, tied in 3 places with butcher twine, rubbed with a tablespoon of olive oil, a generous amount of sea salt, and more pepper, placed inside a small, high-sided, oval enameled cast iron pan previously coated with a little olive oil, set inside an oven pre-heated to 450º for 9 or 10 minutes, turned over, the other side cooked for 7 more minutes, after which the temperature was lowered to 300°F , the roast cooked for slightly longer than 2 hours, turning occasionally (I did it every half hour), removed and placed inside a small low-sided pyrex pan on the top of the oven, 3 or 4 tablespoons of a local Linden honey from Tremblay Appiaries, mixed with the juice from half of the lemon mentioned earlier, poured over it, then allowed to rest for at least 20 minutes, sliced into 3 sections (the third, or larger end piece was later halved and distributed onto the plates with the first 2, for reason mentioned earlier) while a sauce was prepared by pouring the cooking juices into a gravy separator (for convenience), the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula, the lean gravy at the bottom of the cup poured back into the pan, which was now set over a flame and a couple tablespoons of a good white wine added, and reduced, then removed from the heat, allowed to cool a bit, and several tablespoons of butter added and swirled in, and the honey-lemon drippings under the roast sitting in the small pan added to complete it, finally placed inside a sauce boat and, once the meat and dumplings had been arranged on the plates, ladled onto both
  • two potato dumplings [Kartoffelklöße], ‘Melle’s Best Kartoffel Knödel’, purchased frozen from Schaller & Weber, defrosted the day before, boiled for about 12 minutes in salted water, drained and arranged on the plates, finished with some of the roasted pork sauce
  • 18 or so mostly short, thick stalks of asparagus from Phillips Farm, trimmed, much  of the length of their stems peeled, rolled along with a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm with a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 25 minutes, or until the thicker sections were just tender
  • the wine was a French (Rhône) white, La Borry Côtes du Rhône Blanc 2006
  • the music was Kalevi Aho, Chamber Symphonies No 1 and 2, Stefan Asbury conducting the Tapiola Sinfonietta, and No. 3, with Jean-Jacques Kantorow conducting the same ensemble

John Dory, thyme; mushrooms; Brussels sprouts, sage

I picked up 2 beautiful John Dory fillets and then bought some mushrooms before checking my Food Blog to see whether I had a formula which would combine both. Once home, I learned that I had never prepared the them together, and didn’t have a recipe in my reference library.  By that time I was in a bit of a hurry, so I looked on line, and that’s where I found the recipe which became the basis of Wednesday’s preparation.

It’s a bit more French, creamy saucy, than I usually like these days, but, even with a few cavils, it turned out to be a pretty good meal.

The problems included some which were almost certainly related to adjusting the taste and seasoning for an amount of fish which was probably only half that which was contemplated in the published recipe, and I also think the mushroom sauce would profit from the addition of some allium, or a pinch of habanada pepper (the original recipe only mentions a pinch of ground nutmeg, which wasn’t enough, and which incidentally may also have given away the antiquity of the its original source).

The nuttiness of the roasted Brussels sprouts was a good foil for the richness of the fish and the sauce.

  • two 8-ounce John Dory fillets from Blue Moon Fish Company, washed, rinsed, dried, rolled in 1 1/2 tablespoons of seasoned local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour, then placed, first skin side down, in a large heavy tin-lined oval copper pan in which a mixture of a little butter and olive oil and half of a tablespoon of whole thyme leaves had been heated until the butter had stopped sizzling and was just beginning to brown, the fillets pan-fried for 2–3 minutes, then turned, and cooked for the same length of time, transferred to 2 plates once they were done, and kept warm, while in a separate pan 2 tablespoon of butter had been heated until melted and foaming, before 5 ounces of oyster mushrooms from the Bulich Mushroom Company stall in the Union Square Greenmarket and one small crushed clove garlic from Berried Treasures were added, stirred over low heat until cooked through, after which 2 tablespoons of white wine were added, brought to a boil and simmered until completely reduced (it takes no time at all), followed by a splash of juice from a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and 6 ounces of heavy cream, the liquid brought to a boil and reduced until it coated a spoon, the sauce seasoned to taste and poured over (or next to) the fish and served, garnished with a little micro red amaranth form Windfall Farms
  • 14 good-sized Brussels sprouts from Brussels sprouts from Phillips Farms, tossed in a bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper, and dried sage from Stokes Farm, spread, not touching each other, onto a medium, well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted in at 400º oven for about 25 minutes
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was that of Joonas Kokkonen, his Symphonies No. 3 and 4, composed in 1967 and 1971, respectively, Ulf Söderblom conducting the Lahti Symphony Orchestra