Month: January 2018

pork chop with myrtle; Brussels sprouts; roast sweet potato

I figured pork chops would be an excellent side for the sweet potatoes I had been looking forward to, but the chops from Flying Pigs Farm are always so good they weren’t going to be incidental to anything. Also, as excited as I was about the potatoes, I was equally enthusiastic about using myrtle on the pork for the first time.

As for those sweet potatoes, when I asked Keith (Keith Stewart, the vegetable sage) what cultivar they were, he told me that at this time of the year it was probably impossible to know which of the two they had planted, Covington or Beauregard, were in the bin that day, so my call would be as good as his. He assured me however that it was not that they had been up to any cultivar-ian miscegenation, (I asked), that it was only that they had been moving into each other’s fields somewhat indiscriminately.

I was going to add some watercress to the plate, for something green, but then I remembered that, from among the dozens of smaller Brussels sprouts I had roasted on Thursday, I had kept back 3 significantly larger ones, for just such a circumstance.

  • two 8-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and sprinkled with some small leaves and crushed berries (5?) of dried Italian myrtle [It. Mirto], berries and leaves, from Buon Italia seared quickly on both sides inside a heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed over the top, then left in the pan between the chops, placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, after which the lemon was squeezed on top again and replaced in the pan between them), removed from the oven, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, some of the really luscious pan juices spooned over the top, the remainder placed on the table inside a glass sauce boat
  • three medium Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, washed, trimmed, dried, and halved, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a 400º oven on a small unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside, about 15 or 20 minutes
  • less than one pound of small sweet potatoes (either Covington or Beauregard) from Keith’s Farm, unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, sliced into 3-quarter-inch pieces, tossed in a bowl with olive oil; sea salt; freshly-ground black pepper; 3 large unpeeled Rocambole garlic cloves, also from Keith’s  Farm; a tablespoon or so of small dried sage leaves which had originally come fresh from Stokes Farm; and a bit of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, originally fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm, spread onto a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted T 400º for about 30 minutes, garnished with micro amaranth from Two GUys from Woodbridge
  • the wine was a California (Napa) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Mozart’s very early (1767) opera, ‘Apollo Et Hyacinthus’, from the album, ‘Complete Mozart Edition Vol 26’

broiled sea perch, anchovy; cress; roasted purple radish

Sometimes the picture on these posts may be as good as the food, but not always, since my first priority is getting the plate to the table rather than arranging an “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille” installation. This was one of those good sometimes.

The beautiful purple radishes were almost as key to this meal as the wonderful red sea perch, and I picked both of them up within the first few minutes of my arrival at the Union Square Greenmarket yesterday. I’ve cooked sea perch many times, but this was my first experience with purple Korean radishes (I bought the last 3 roots on the farmer’s table Friday).

  • four red sea perch fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, brushed, the skin side and the other side, with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with more than a teaspoon of a combination of chopped rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and the white of one thinly-sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, seasoned, also on both sides, with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside an enameled cast iron pan and broiled skin side up, 4 or 5 inches from the flames, for about 5 minutes, or when the skin had become crisp (and it definitely did this time) and the fish was cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which 2 salted anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, had been heated over a very low flame for about 4 minutes until the anchovies had fallen apart, kept warm while the fillets were broiled, the perch finished on the plates with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and organic Whole Foods Market lemon wedges served on the side
  • watercress, undressed, from Eataly
  • Korean Bora King purple radishes (they’re purple on the inside as well) from Alewife Farm, unpeeled, trimmed, washed and scrubbed well, cut as thick wedges, tossed in a bowl with a little, olive oil; a pinch of dried golden habanada pepper; a few branches of thyme and winter savory, both from Stokes Farm; sea salt; and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted for 20 to 25 minutes or so, at 375º or 400º inside a medium Pampered Chef unglazed pan, garnished with micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the wine was a French (Bordeaux) white, Chateau Laulerie, Bergerac Blanc, 2016, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was an early Mozart opera (1767, with a debut in Salzburg; he was 11 at the time), ‘Die Schuldigkeit Des Ersten Gebots’, Ian Page conducting the Classical Opera Company, with  Sophie Bevan, Andrew Kennedy, Sarah Fox, and Allan Clayton

duck, rosemary; tomato; Brussels sprouts, breadcrumbs

I’ve cooked seared duck breast more often than I can count, but it’s never the same, even when the trimmings are, and it’s never a disappointment.

This wonderful local bird is available all year round, but I can’t quite get used to enjoying Brussels sprouts in the middle of the winter.

  • one duck breast (.85 lbs) from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing for about 45 minutes before it was pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan, dry, over medium heat for a total of about 10 minutes, the fatty side down first, then turned over halfway through, draining the oil from the pan part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], the duck removed when done (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, a bit of chopped rosemary from Stokes Farm and a drizzle of olive oil [NOTE: the tenderloin, to the right of the breast proper in the image above, had been removed before the duck was marinated, but seasoned like the rest of it, then fried very briefly near the end of the time the larger section was cooking]
  • two ripe, halved, Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, dried with a paper towel, placed cut side down inside the pan as the breast was was finishing, turned once, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates next to the duck and drizzled with a drop of olive oil
  • micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a garnish for the tomatoes
  • small January Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, snapped directly off their 2-foot stalk, washed, trimmed, and dried, then tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a 400º oven on a large unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside (they will taste surprisingly sweet and quite nutty), arranged on the plates and finished with a sprinkling of herbed fresh breadcrumbs (although become somewhat dry and crusty themselves after 10 days), left from a supply made for an earlier meal, that is, a mixture of crumbs from what was then a day-old polenta boule from She Wolf Bakery, finely-chopped fresh thyme and winter savory leaves from Stokes Farm, a little peppermint from Phillips Farm, parsley from S. & S.O. Produce, salt, and pepper
  • the wine was a French (Cotes-du-Rhone) red, La Manarine, Cotes-du-Rhone, 2015, from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
  • the music was Vivaldi’s ‘Dresden Sonatas’, performed by Europa Galante, Fabio Biondi, violin, Rinaldo Alessandrini, cembalo, and Maurizio Naddeo, cello

monkfish on a bed of potatoes and olives with 13 bay leaves

In spite of its somewhat grand appearance in the picture above, it’s one of the most perfect minimal meals I know, and it’s been very popular with Barry and me for years. This time it was even more spectacular, for a reason probably related to a decision to include some habanada pepper in the mix.

Monkfish is the ideal choice, but almost any firm white-fleshed fish would work.

Also, I don’t think I had ever before included the particular potato cultivar, Nicola, that went into dish last night, although we had already enjoyed it in other dishes several times before. I  picked out medium sizes while at the Greenmarket stall yesterday. While researching it today and looking for a link to use, I learned this potato had its origins in the Lüneburger Heide [Eng. Luneberg Heath] in Lower Saxony.

The original recipe, from Mark Bittman, appeared in the New York Times almost 20 years ago.

These images show the dish as it looked just before it went into the oven with the fish, and as it looked coming out 10 or 12 minutes later:

  • * four monkfish tails (a total of 20 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted at 400º for 10 or 12 minutes with three fourths of a cup of black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia, pits removed, on top of a bed of a full pound of very thinly-sliced unpeeled Nicola potatoes from Hawthorne Valley Farm that had been scrubbed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and already roasted for about 40 minutes (reversing the direction of the pan once) in a very generous amount of olive oil (1/4 of a cup) with 13 dry Italian bay leaves, also from Buon Italia, and a pinch or so of a mix of both crushed dried orange/gold and crushed dark habanada pepper inside a large enameled cast iron pan, the potatoes having been removed when they had softened and their edges had begun to crisp, the contents of the pan, after the fish was cooked through, arranged on 2 plates and garnished with micro red amaranth from two Guys from Woodbridge, with a little undressed watercress from Eataly nestled on the side
  • the wine was a California (Napa) white, Sterling Vintner’s Collection Pinot Grigio 2016, from Philippe Liquors
  • the music was Mozart’s 1775 opera, ‘Il Re Pastore’, Ian Page conducting the Classical Opera, with soloists Sarah Fox, John Mark Ainsley, Ailish Tynan, and Benjamin Hulett

Kassler, Sauerkraut; Saltzkartoffeln, Roggen Brotkrumen

Last night, just after we had finished eating, and before writing this post, I followed up on a tweet and reply I had published earlier in the evening that had indicated, with no embellishments, what one of the major parts of this meal would be (I even included an image of the sauerkraut while it was cooking). That second tweet read,

not saying it just because there’s been a certain buildup to this meal, and some of us know not every meal coming out of this kitchen is even very good, but tonight’s (sauerkraut, smoked pork chops, Saltzkartoffeln with toasted rye bread crumbs, was sublime

The dinner really was very, very good, although I can’t explain why. In fact, just before I had begun to put it together I had thought about aborting it and coming back to it on another day: I had learned I didn’t have a couple of the ingredients for the particular sauerkraut I had hoped to serve with the Rauchbier I planned to serve with the meal. Instead I shifted gears and turned to another recipe, but keeping the Rauchbier.

I would say that nothing was really new in any of the 3 parts of the entrée, either the ingredients or the techniques used, except for caraway bread crumbs as the topping for the potatoes. I did accidentally reverse the order of the covered/uncovered sequence in the early cooking of the sauerkraut, but I had expected starting off uncovered would have had a negative effect on the texture, if not the flavor; it might actually have been a boon.

In any event, this meal made me very happy, also because I brought it in under our new mutually-agreed dinner deadline, making us both very happy.

  • * one 16-ounce glass jar of sauerkraut (simply cabbage, water, sea salt) from Schaller & Weber [also here] drained and very well-rinsed in several changes of cold water, drained again and placed inside a large, heavy, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with 2 medium sweet yellow onions and one red onion (the red one to be a little perverse), both from Norwich Meadows Farm,  one ‘Newtown Pippin’ apple from Samascott Orchards, 8 or 9 whole juniper berries and about the same number of Whole Foods Market proprietary brand peppercorns, a little sea salt, 1 large Sicilian bay leaf from Buon Italia, enough fresh water to almost cover the sauerkraut, with more added later on as needed, all brought to a boil then merely simmered (uncovered at first, this time) over a low flame, stirring occasionally, for less than half an hour, and then covered (again, this time) for 20 or 30 minutes more, after which two 9-ounce smoked pork chops (in Germany usually called Kassler) from Schaller & Weber, that had first been dried and briefly seared on both sides inside a dry cast iron pan, were buried in the sauerkraut and heated for about 15 or 20 minutes, the chops and sauerkraut arranged on 2 plates
  • somewhat over a pound (we could have survived with less, but they were absolutely delicious) of medium-size Nicola potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, boiled whole and unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, a couple tablespoons of rich Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter [with 12 grams of fat per 14 grams, for each tablespoon of butter; American butter almost always has only 11 grams, which makes a surprising difference in both taste and texture], seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, after which the potatoes were arranged on the plates next to the chops and the sauerkraut and sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs made from the heel of a loaf of Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ which had first been browned in a little butter with a pinch of salt
  • * we shared bottles of 2 different kinds of Bamberg Rauchbiere (more about both my own ancient and Barry’s more recent connection to that very special beer here, and here), Schlenkerla‘s ‘Fastenbier’ and ‘Urbock’, from Schaller & Weber
  • * the music was Vicente Martin y Soler and Lorenzo da Ponte’s delightful 1786 opera, ‘Il Burbero Di Buon Cuore’, Christophe Rousset conducting the Madrid Teatro Real Orchestra