Search for habanada pepper - 316 results found

beet fusilli, celery, scallion, habanada pepper, breadcrumbs

It had been a stressful day for both of us, beginning with a 5:15 am wake-up, but I still wanted to put some kind of homemade dinner on the table. What we got was some delicious comfort food that I quickly improvised 15 or so hours later.

    • eight ounces of boiled Sfolini Beet fusilli pasta, some of the cooking water reserved (note: this pasta only takes about 5 or 6 minutes to cook, and it goes to al dente with virtually no warning), drained and stirred into a large, heavy, vintage tin-lined copper pan in which about a tablespoon of olive oil had been heated before a handful of chopped young celery stalks from Phillips Farms and one chopped Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm had been tossed in and sautéed until all of the pieces had softened, after which one section of golden/orange dried habanada pepper, sea salt, and freshly -ground black pepper were added and stirred in, the pasta and vegetables stirred over a moderate flame along with some of the pasta water until the liquid was emulsified, the sauced pasta arranged in 2 low bowls, some olive oil drizzled around the edges, sprinkled with sprinkled with toasted home-made breadcrumbs, and scattered with chopped celery leaves
    • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Le Salse, Verdicchio di Matelica, 2015, from Flatiron Wines
    • the music was Haydn’s Symphony No. 60, ‘Il Distratto’, and No. 91, performed by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra

the habanada pepper: fresh, and dried two ways

I’ve used and written about these peppers so often, both fresh, as seen above, when they were available last summer, and now home-dried, that I decided I had to do a special post about them alone, if only to have something to link to.

The Habanada is a highbred pepper which was developed only recently; I think it it’s a very special one.

This paragraph, from a page on the Cornel University Small Farms Program site, is an introduction to their origin story, which, like most such stories, includes a hero:

Habanada is a brand new pepper, the first truly heatless habanero (hence the haba-nada) bursting with all the bright, tropical flavor of the fruit unmasked. Many attempts have been made over the years but none have achieved the fullness of flavor with absolutely zero heat. Their crisp, thin skin has an exotic, floral flavor like no pepper I have ever tasted. From cast-away seed to a signature show-stopper variety, Michael Mazourek has brought this pepper a long way in just thirteen generations.

I’ve encountered Habanadas only at Norwich Meadows Farm, in the Union Square Greenmarket.

When dried, which I did myself in order to extend their season through the winter and spring, at the suggestion of Haifa Kurdieh, who runs the farm with her husband Zaid, they look like this:

I retrieved the darker, very serious looking mahogany-colored batch from the oven just in time; they have more than a hint of smokiness (and, oddly something like an anise scent), in addition to the elements they retain from the original Habanero. The golden orange ones, which were my second try, are somehow both more gentle and more powerfully aromatic; they’re quite perfect, in every way.

This is a close-up of the dried golden orange, just after they came out of the oven:

All three versions have been wonderful additions to many parts of many meals over the last 6 or 8 months. I miss the fresh peppers, but I’ve been using both the darker and the lighter versions more than frequently ever since I dried them last fall, as a quick search will show. They work with everything, meat, fish, eggs, pasta, vegetables. The only difficulty they present, I might confess, is controlling my addiction (and deciding which of the 2 to use in any particular application).

rye trumpets, ramps, habanada, pepperoncino, parmesan

It was almost a night off, since, although there were 2 courses, this meal was very easy to throw together.

  • most of the bulb sections, including stems, of a bunch of ramps from Berried Treasures, heated with a little olive oil inside a heavy, high-sided, tin-lined copper pan with a bit of crushed dried dark habanada pepper and about the same amount of a crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia until the alliums had softened and begun to give pff an aroma, mixed with half a pound of Sfoglini rye blend ‘trumpets which had been cooked seriously al dente, the roughly chopped ramp leaves now added and everything (including some of the reserved pasta water) tossed and stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, served with shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly

There was a antipasto, served immediately before the trumpets.

  • three ounces of an incredibly delicious salumi, La Quercia Ridgetop Prosciutto, from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very small amount of Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto from Eataly
  • baby arugula from Lani’s Farm, also drizzled with the oil
  • slices of Bien Cuit rye and sunflower bread from Foragers Market

 

lemon/habanada/celery pork chop, potato; roasted chicory

I had decided early in the day on Sunday that I would prefer cooking a dinner with meat that night to one with pasta, since I had a good supply of both vegetables – and small, or micro vegetables as well – since more of them could be incorporated in, as it turned out, a pork entrée, than in any pasta.

Also, the freezer had grown almost full, which was going to make it hard to bring home something interesting that I might find at the market.

Another note about the dinner: Unusual for a meal at our table, there was not a single garlic clove or spicy chili. It was still eminently delicious.

  • two 8-ounce boneless pork chops from Walter and Shannon of Shannon Brook Farm in the Finger Lakes, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a large pinch of light gold dried habanada pepper, seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon was squeezed over them then left in the pan, which was then placed in a 400º oven for about 13 or 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again), removed from the oven, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with the chopped stems and leaves of 2 stalks of (pre-spring) baby celery from Windfall Farms, the rich pan juices poured over the top
  • just under a pound of small, really wonderful, sweet Natasha potatoes from Phillips Farms,  scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge

  • a couple handfuls of beautiful chicory rosettes from Campo Rosso Farm that had popped up from last fall’s plants, washed, drained, dried, each halved – or quartered, if larger, tossed in a large bowl with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and a number of thyme branches from Chelsea Whole Foods, then arranged inside a large well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, without touching, roasted at 400º for about 10 minutes [I have to admit that I went a little overlong this time, but a bit crispy is good too, when it comes to chicory], removed from the oven and allowed to cool just a little before they were drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
  • the wine, a perfect pairing, was a really terrific unfiltered, unfined pinot noir, a French (Loire) red, Marie and Vincent Tricot’s ‘Les 3 Bonhommes’ 2016, from Copake Wine Works (I can’t say enough about the experience)
  • the music was the contemporary Spanish composer Alberto Posadas’ ‘Poetics of the Gaze’, with Nacho de Paz conducting Klangforum Wien (a great listening)

oregano/chili/habanada/lemon-roasted squid; spinach

Oh so good.

On my way home from the Greenmarket with these Cephalopoda on Wednesday I thought about how many people think of squid only as an appetizer, usually batter-coated and deep-fried, which can be awesome, but that we almost always enjoy them at home as the special main event I think their goodness deserves.

  • one pound of rinsed and carefully dried baby squid from American Seafood Company, quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until hot and its the cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and once the oil itself was quite hot, immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a good section of a peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and a section of light-colored home-dried habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and the squid roasted for just less than 5 minutes, by which time their little bodies had ballooned, then removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices, once they’d been transferred to a footed glass sauce boat
  • seven or eight ounces of loose spinach from Tamarack Hollow Farm washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large, heavy, antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 3 quartered cloves of ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had first been allowed to sweat, the spinach seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little dried peperoncino, finished on the plates with a little more olive oil
  • slices of ‘table bread’ from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co

There was a cheese course, at least partly as a reward for my success in getting dinner started earlier than usual.

  • two cheeses, a semi-firm Riverine Ranch water buffalo ‘farm stand cheese’, and a
    ‘Mammuth’, a goat milk cheese (camembert style) from Ardith Mae, with a little roughly pounded black pepper and some Maldon salt on the plate
  • more slices of Lost Bread’s ‘table bread’

 

[the image of the bical grapes is from this 2018 Eric Azimov New York Times article; the image from the Los Angeles Philharmonic fully staged world premiere of Andriessen’s ‘Theatre of the World’ from the blog, Louis Andriessen]