It started with two paper baskets of local foraged chestnuts, the very last remaining on the farmer’s table in the Union Square Greenmarket. I had hoped to find some kind of game, or game-ish bird which they might accompany on a cool autumn evening, but then we were away for 5 days, and since my prize Asian-American hybrid nuts were getting a bit long in the tooth, I convinced myself that some very good pork chops would be able to stand in for the game I had not bagged.

I was encouraged in my illusion of a game dinner by memories from years ago of preparing and serving faux-marcassin, many times, using a white wine marinade described by Julia Child.

The process of chestnut preparation preceded everything else in assembling this meal; it began of course with roasting chestnuts over an open fire. In this case “over an open fire” meant over a perforated chestnut roasting pan above the gas flame on the top of our 1931 Magic Chef. When I was living in Providence I actually did roast chestnuts over an open wood fire on the keeping room hearth of my 1760s house.

It was great fun, and a few chestnuts exploded into the air (I may have neglected to slit those all through the outer shell beforehand) but the excitement was over in less than 10 minutes.

• two 9-ounce bone-in loin pork chops (not really very thick this time) from Flying Pig Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of a large organic Whole Foods Market lemon was squeezed over the top (which was then left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed in a 400º oven for about 13 minutes altogether (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over them once again and replaced), removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, some of the juices that remained in the pan poured over them, some poured over the accompanying chestnuts, and the remainder transferred to a glass sauce boat
• fifteen ounces of fresh chestnuts foraged from a hybrid Asian and American tree on Keith’s Farm, above the City in Orange County, roasted inside a traditional chestnut pan on top of a gas range, sprinkled with a few drops of what was to be that night’s red dinner wine* (we had to open a fresh bottle for the purpose, so we decided to accompany the meal with a red wine rather than a white), wrapped inside an old cotton shirt, squeezed until they crackled, allowed to sit on top of the hinged cover above the range burners and oven pilot light for 5 minutes, the nutmeat then extracted from the shells and placed inside a heavy antique medium size copper pot, sprinkled with olive oil, a pinch of sea salt, a bit of freshly ground black pepper, sautéed for a few minutes, a generous number of rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, half a cup or more of a chicken broth made with Better Than Bullion chicken base added gradually while simmering above a low to medium flame, stirring occasionally, until the chestnuts are as tender as desired (I like them a little firm) and the liquid had emulsified into a sauce, a tablespoon or so of maple syrup from Roxbury Mountain Maple Farm in the Catskills stirred in, followed by a tablespoon of chopped fennel fronds, from a bunch of flowering fennel from Lani’s Farm, arranged next to the chops on the plates, garnished with more fennel

• the head of Treviso radicchio I had picked up at the Greenmarket from Tamarack Farms was far to large to be grilled or roasted for just the 2 of us, so I stripped off 10 or 12 of the large outer leaves, washed, drained, and dried them as thoroughly as I could, tied them into 2 bundles, arranged them on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan covered them with lots of thyme branches from thyme from Keith’s Farm, seasoned the treviso generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and drizzled them with a tablespoon or 2 of olive oil; they were then baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 8 or 10 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for around 8 or 10 minutes, then arranged on the plates and drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• *the wine was a French (Burgundy) red, Bourgogne Rouge, Dom. des Meix Poron 2015, from Astor Wines

• the music was our third eighteenth-century Olimpiade in almost as few days, Josef Myslivecek’s 1778 opera, ‘L’olimpiade’, performed by Oliver Dohnányi  directing the Bologna Teatro Comunale Orchestra and the Bologna Teatro Comunale Chorus

When things go well in the kitchen. But not necessarily perfectly.

It was a really delicious dinner, although it wasn’t quite the dinner I had intended.

I thought it would end up looking more bright green than brown-green. I think I’ve pretty much gotten the crispy fish skin technique down, but now I have to know when to stop, or at least turn down the flame at the right time.

I’d say that the fish itself was superb, and cooked à point, which is an expression usually applied, in this country at least, only to steaks, an impreciseness which fits nicely with the meaty appearance of the bass fillets this time. Even the sauce was really tasty, in spite of having taken on a bit of an unintended brown butter effect.

In an earlier post I wrote that ‘the technique’ is from a page I found on line, ‘Perfect Seared Fish‘, written by Hank Shaw, who describes himself as a former line cook, but who is much more than that.

I didn’t have any micro sorrel or shallot blossoms this time, so I improvised a substitution for the main ingredient of the sauce: garlic scapes and celery stem and leaves, and I held the garnish. I think the decision worked out perfectly, except, maybe, for the brown part.\

• one 14-ounce striped bass fillet from Pura Vida Seafood Company, removed from the refrigerator, the thick and the thin sections each halved, salted just a little, allowed to rest at room temperature for 20 minutes, then the skin side scraped with a butter knife to remove excess moisture, both sides patted dry afterward with a paper towel, an 11-inch well-seasoned French steel pan heated above a high flame and a tablespoon, or a little more, of Mac Nut macadamia nut oil from Whole Foods Market poured into the pan, swirled to cover the bottom, and allowed to get hot, all 4 fish pieces placed skin side down inside the pan, which was immediately jiggled to be sure that the fish wasn’t sticking, the flesh side of the fillets salted, the heat turned down to medium-high, the bass pressed down lightly with a spatula for 30 to 60 seconds, to ensure that the skin browns evenly, then cooked without moving them for 3 or 4 minutes, the thinner pieces temporarily removed after only about one minute, set aside and returned before they were all to be flipped, at which moment the pan was first jiggled again, to see that the filets moved easily, the bass cooked skin side up for another minute, maybe a bit more, then removed to warm plates; the heat having been turned off before that minute was up, a tablespoon and a half of butter was now added to the pan, swirled so that it melted swiftly, followed by a generous helping of barely-blanched garlic scapes, from Berried Treasures Farm, cut into very short lengths, along with some chopped fresh celery leaves from from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, the pan stirred with a wooden spatula, the sauce immediately poured onto the 2 plates next to the fish already resting there

• twelve ounces of small red thumb fingerlings from Willow Wisp Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of Robusto Smoked Salt from The Filling Station in the Chelsea Market, fresh winter savory leaves from Keith’s Farm, a small amount of crushed home-dried habanada pepper, arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 375º for 20 minutes or so, tossed around on the pan, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm
• the wine was a Portugal (Dao) white, Casa de Mouraz, Dao Blanco ‘Encruzado’ 2016, from Flatiron Wines

• the day before it was Vivaldi’s run; on Friday’s Olympiade was Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s 1735 dramma per musica, ‘L’olympiade’, Alessandro de Marchi directing the Tiroler Landestheater, Innsbruck, from the harpsichord [the earlier sections seemed pretty talky, and it took a while for me to get into it (well, it is described as a “drama with music”, and I figure no one important was expected to show up until halfway through a nearly 4-hour-long opera, especially when there was so much else to do in Rome, where it premiered]

I think that simple assemblages of a good fresh or dry pasta and good ingredients, sometimes, but not necessarily always fresh ingredients, are among the most satisfying meals of all, in the preparation and in the eating, and this was one of the best.

It’s the sort of meal that asks for no real skill, no precise ingredients, no strict amounts, no fat wallet, no long preparation, no strictures on hotness, and neither meat nor fish.

The quality of the ingredients is the one essential, and, along with several other choice bits, this dinner benefited from these beauties:

• almost 9 ounces of Afeltra 100% Grana Italiano Penna di Rigata [sic] from Naples via Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, drained, then tossed into a large heavy antique high-sided copper pot in which less than one-inch-long sections of 4 garlic scapes from Berried Treasures Farm had been slowly heated in flavored cooking fats reserved from the preparation of the previous day’s meal (a bit of roughly-chopped rocambole garlic and thin scallion, both from Keith’s Farm, that had been heated in a little Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil and a bit of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ until softened) adding a little additional olive oil, straight, until the scapes had begun to soften, then 5 or 6 thinly-sliced, very pungent yellow seasoning peppers (I’ve forgotten their proper name) added to the pot and stirred, and about 3 quarters of a cup of reserved pasta cooking water gradually added, stirred over a fairly high flame until the liquid had emulsified, seasoned with sea salt, and 14 of “the best cherry tomatoes” from Stokes Farm, halved, slipped into the mix and stirred with the pasta before some torn leaves of Gotham Greens Rooftop, basil from Whole Foods were added, the pasta arranged inside shallow bowls, olive oil drizzled around the edges, scattered with more basil before some Sini Fulvi Pecorino Romano D.O.C. from Whole Foods Market was grated on top of everything
• the wine was an Italian (Veneto) white, Il Conte, Pinot Grigio 2017 from Flatiron Wines

• the music was Vivaldi’s gorgeous 1740 opera, ‘L’olimpiade, Rinaldo Alessandrini conducting  Concerto Italiano (my favorite part of the synopsis is the part that says that because the hero has no chance of winning the olympics, and therefore the grand prize, the hand of his secret beloved, he asks his friend to compete disguised as him, with no explanation of how a guy can disguise himself so if he’s required to run naked)

 

[the last image, of a 5th century BC Olympiad depicted on a black figure vase, is from a review of Pergolesi’s ‘L’Olimpiade’, with the same Metastasio libretto Vivaldi used, as did some 50 other composers]

I didn’t buy it because it was shark, but because it looked so incredibly good in the fishmonger’s bucket, 2 weeks in a row. last week I chose triggerfish instead, because it is likely to appear in the market more rarely. This time it was the mako shark’s turn.

I have nothing against sharks; I like them, well, at least in the right environment, one of which I will now avow, is the dinner table.

I neglected to photograph the shark before I cooked it, but think of a swordfish steak, looking especially moist, and, this one at least, the color of a pale rosé wine.

The fish was extraordinarily fresh: At Rick Lofstad‘s Pura Vida Fisheries stall on Friday Lea Mansour showed me this short video, taken the day before, of the shark on the deck of their boat, the Olivia Jane, out of Hampton Bays, Shinnecock, only moments after it was caught. The deck is covered in squid, which appears to be the catch intended that day.

“Do you wanna try and sell this thing?”

The thing was absolutely delicious.

I used a recipe I have occasionally used with swordfish, and it worked beautifully, allowing the slightly sweet, moderately-strong taste of the shark to shine.

The preparation of the other 2 elements of this meal was already pretty familiar territory on this blog. As with the recipe for the fish, there were only slight adjustments in the herbs used this time.

• one 13-ounce (1 1/4-inch thick) mako shark steak from Pura Vida Seafood, rubbed with a mixture of fresh herbs (here lovage and dill from Keith’s Farm; tarragon, rosemary, savory, and sage from Stokes Farm; spearmint from Ryder Farm; parsley from Phillips Farm), all from various Greenmarket farmers) chopped together with sea salt, some freshly-ground black pepper, juicy garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, and lemon zest, and a bit of olive oil added to moisten the herb mix, most of which was spread onto the surface of the fish before it was pan-grilled, basted throughout the cooking process with some of the reserved rub mixture, removed while still not quite fully cooked in the center, divided onto 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil, and served with lemon quarters
• one firm but ripe non-heirloom tomato (I’ve forgotten the proper name) from Down Home Acres, halved, placed face-down on a plate spread with salt and pepper, removed, dried slightly with a section of paper towel, placed on the same grill pan as the shark, halfway through its cooking, turning once, removed, and finished on the plates with a bit of olive oil, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with dill flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• two medium Japanese eggplants from Berried Treasures Farm, split lengthwise, scored with a very sharp knife, brushed with a mixture of oil, finely-chopped garlic from Keith’s Farm, and chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning once, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with micro purple basil from Two Guys from Woodbridge [the basic recipe, absent the topping, is here]
• the wine was an Italian (sicily) rosé, Fuori Strada Off Road Rosato 2015, with Nero d’Avola grapes, from Bottlerocket Wine

There was dessert.

• slices from a Lambkin melon, aka Santa Claus melon, and sometimes known as Christmas melon or piel de sapo

• the music throughout the meal was topical, Vivaldi’s 1740 opera, ‘L’olimpiade’, Rinaldo Alessandrini directing the Concerto Italiano