Because I already had enough vegetables on hand already, almost my only purpose in heading for the Union Square Greenmarket that day was to secure a seafood entrée for dinner.  It had only occurred to me to also pick up oysters because, while still abed, I had seen the Blue Moon Fish Company retweet of a tweet about their wild oysters. It included a link to an article in the Village Voice featuring both wild oysters and Blue Moon family anchor, Stephanie Villani, and I thought, what the heck…

Only later did we add an embellishment, in the form of a ‘theme’:  Barry had suggested that I bring home two dozen, which would make it something of special event, so we looked around for an occasion, or excuse, for a mid-week oyster feast, perhaps a birthday or anniversary, something at least a little splendid. He suggested we consider it in honor of the Guggenheim Museum first opening its doors on that day and month in 1959, ten years after the death of its patron, Solomon R. Guggenheim, and six months after the death of its architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, and I thought, why not?

It turned out that we had a tiny bonus inside the bag I brought home.  It was the first time in 50 years of consuming oysters (and often opening them myself), that I came across what turned out to be an additional, distantly-related shellfish species crouched up inside one of the bivalves.  It was only when I looked very closely at what I had removed from it while it lay on my large oval plate (you can actually see it inside the top center oyster in the picture), that I noticed it was moving; it looked like a very tiny, perfectly formed, translucent crab (see the image at the bottom).

Thanks to the internet gods I learned almost immediately that what I had in front of me was an ‘oyster crab’, also called a “pea crab’.  At almost the same moment I also learned that it was common (or uncommon) enough to be considered a delicacy by those who know and observe such things, for instance in Delmarva, and on the far end of Long Island.

So I slurped it down, but not without a tentative chew.  I figured that if I had the nerve to eat raw oysters, how was a tiny crab going to be a problem?

• a dozen wild ‘Robin’s Island Oysters’ (Long Island Sound) from Blue Moon Seafood for each of us, shelled, served on the half shell (plus one pea crab for me) without any accompaniment except some wonderful Mario Fongo grissini integrale from Buon Italia
• the wine with the oysters (and the oyster crab) was a California (Napa) white, California white, in a Burgundy style, Matthew Iaconis Napa Valley Chardonnay 2014 (it’s Matt’s wine, and it comes from Naked Wines)
• the music with the oysters was Johann Sebastian Bach’s, ‘The Well-Tempered Clavier I, Preludes and Fugues Book 1’, Mieczyslaw Horszowski, piano

 

 

The swordfish was actually my fourth choice as an entrée to follow the oysters, the John Dory, Tautog (Blackfish), and Boston mackerel all having sold out by the time I arrived at the Blue Moon Greenmarket stall at about 11:45, which was earlier than usual, I have to say.  Because of both the time and effort I expected we might spend on the bivalves, and it being a ‘school night’, I wanted the preparation of the second course to be both fast and relatively uncomplicated.  The choice of the vegetables would follow suit.

The fish was absolutely delicious. How to account for its excellence when the only real difference between this outing with this recipe and previous ones was the combination of herbs?  Or their numbers?  What I choose is usually very much determined by what I have on hand, and therefor might never be repeated.  But then I’m almost obsessed with herbs, and there seems to me to be almost nothing that can be done wrong with them.

• one swordfish steak from Blue Moon Seafood, cut into two six-and-a-half ounce pieces, rubbed with a mixture of fresh herbs (here lovage, tarragon, dill flowers, peppermint, parsley, thyme, and rosemary, all from various Greenmarket farmers) chopped together with sea salt, then mixed with some freshly-ground pepper, minced garlic and lemon zest, and a bit of olive oil to moisten the herb mix, spread onto the surface of the fish before it was pan-grilled and basted throughout the cooking process with some of the reserved rub mixture, finished with a squeeze of lemon, and a drizzle of olive oil, served with eighths of lemon
• a mix of tomatoes (including three small heirlooms and two small San Marzano from Berried Treasures Farm), each sliced in half, placed face down on a plate which had been spread with salt and pepper, then dried somewhat with a paper towel and placed in a hot grill pan, turned once, removed, finished with a bit of olive oil, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, and torn basil leaves from a basil plant (Full Bloom Marker Garden, in Whately, western Massachusetts) from Whole Foods
• a very small bunch of radish greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in olive oil in which a small garlic clove, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, had been allowed to sweat for a bit, then seasoned with salt, pepper, and a bit more olive oil
• the wine with the swordfish was a beautiful and quite unusual Spanish (Catalonia) white, Elvi/LV Wines In Vita Alella 2011, with Pansa Blanca (Xarel-lo) and Sauvignon Blanc grapes, carried home this week from Appellation Wines
• the music with the entrée was Mitsuko Uchida and the Cleveland Orchestra performing Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 18 in B flat major, K456

 

 

one oyster crab, coming up (note that the inside width of the bowl is only 2 3/8 inches, or 6 centimeters)

The table was awaiting the guests, but I had forgotten the genial service plates (very large, very shallow, very plain, clear glass) that I had found at a thrift shop long ago.

Aside from the fact that this would be one of the first dinners we would be sharing with friends since the epidemic began, the dinner itself would be an anomaly: The featured star of both the first and the second courses came from places other than our local greenmarket.

Our guests couldn’t join us on a Union Square Greenmarket day (Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, year round) and I wanted to serve seafood, so early yesterday afternoonI I walked a few blocks west and south of the apartment to F. Rozzo & Sons. Louis Rozzo is a fourth-generation fish broker, head of a family business with a 121-year history in Chelsea. It was started by Louis’ Neapolitan grandfather in 1900, who bought the building in 1905, and serviced New York restaurants, eventually hotels and clubs as well, from a horse-drawn cart. Until recently, when the epidemic closed down virtually every one of his customers, 9 refrigerated trucks were doing the same duty as Felix’s cart; sadly, the single box van I see parked in front whenever I arrive is probably more than enough for his delivery needs today.

Rozzo has a Twitter presence, handled by Louis’ son: F. Rozzo & Sons @FRozzoandSons.

The shop now announces its stock each day with sandwich boards:

And this  is the ice vitrine inside the 159 9th Avenue building (between West 18th and 19th).

When our two guests had arrived for dinner, we nibbled on breadsticks and such, and enjoyed a sparkling wine, Apollonis “Authentic Meunier” Blanc de Noirs Brut, Loriot NV .

 

The first course was assembled with slices of smoked American farmed sturgeon (9 ounces total) from Grace’s Marketplace, placed on a bed of 2 small almost impossibly-thin hand sliced (I have a great knife) golden beets from from Phillips Farms, the slices first sprinkled with small amounts of wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, dribbled with a good Cretan olive oil, and a little white balsamic vinegar, Condimento Bianco Barricato, the sturgeon itself topped with dollops of crème fraîche from Vermont Creamery (via Foragers Market), the cream having been mixed with lemon zest and chopped fresh za’atar from Rise & Root at the Union Square Greenmarket, the dish garnished with micro celery from Two Guys from Woodbridge.

The wine with the sturgeon was Francois Dubois Champagne Brut Tradition NV (Pinot Meunier, Pinot Noir, and Chardonnay grapes).

 

The main course was nine (traditional fishmongers’ eight?) 3 to 4-ounce Chesapeake Bay soft shell crabs from F. Rozzo, brought to room temperature while I  trimmed them; the fishmonger had offered to do the cleaning, but I wanted them to “save face” at least until shortly before they had to expire, I thanked Tom and told him I’d do it in the kitchen a few hours later.

The crabs were sautéed on both sides (bottom first, but in the end served with that side down) over a medium-high flame in a quarter inch of olive oil inside a beautiful large (18 inch) French seasoned oval steel pan, for about 3  or 4 minutes altogether, or until their texture went from soft to taut, removed and arranged on the 4 warm plates.

There they were sprinkled with local Long Island (P.E. & D. D. Seafood) sea salt and some freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with lemon juice and garnished with micro cressida (similar to but spicier than cress) from Rooted Family Farm.

 

Accompanying the crabs were sixteen ounces of haricots verts from Migliorelli Farm, stems removed, but otherwise left whole, blanched, drained and dried in the same pan over medium heat, shaking, then set aside in a bowl and refrigerated until the crabs were about to be sautéed, at which time the beans were reheated in a little oil inside a heavy medium size vintage well-seasoned cast iron pan, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and mixed with chopped parsley from Echo Creek Farm (the West 23rd St market).

The wine was a 2017 Ponzi Vigneto Chardonnay.

 

There was a simple cheese course. There are no pictures of the plates, but they were definitly pretty: triangles cut from a small (7 oz.) wheel of a Camembert-type cheese, “G.O.A.T.”, from West Meadow Farm and Dairy, served with cubes of Marmelada quince paste, from Portugal, and a sprinkling of micro red amaranth from BK Micro.

The wine with the cheese was Patrice Grasset Loire Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2020.

 

We had an unusual after dinner drink, but these are unusual times, an extraordinary Barbancourt 15 Yr. Rhum, from Haiti, to which we were introduced by a Haitian friend.  The image below is of one of the glasses (short, heavy, ca. 1840’s, pressed), but the picture is from an earlier meal, and the contents then were a Sardinian digestif.

If anyone is wondering, we also drank chilled New York City water last night.

 

The music throughout the evening was from a “box set” (the equivalent of 6 CDs) of Haydn, ‘Music for Prince Esterházy and the King of Naples’

Once in a great while, and only with certain meals, do I think it would be nice to have larger plates, although I really don’t want to go down that road. As I was arranging this one however, even I was taken aback a bit by how busy – and maximal – this entrée looked, and, yes, a bigger plate, maybe an oval plate, would have been nice. Then I pulled everything back a bit toward the edges of the plates, making room for a little white space, and it looked better. Also, the individual elements were not really that complex, and everything really made much more sense once we had tasted it.

It was delicious, and with a bit of good bread, at the end we were also able to enjoy the combination of sauces, which really was complex, that had gathered in the center of the plates.

I had been very excited to be able to come home with 4 live larger than usual local blue crabs from Pura Vida in the Union Square Greenmarket that day, especially since Paul, my fish seller, had told me these would be the last of the season. There’s a short video of one of our lively dinner guests that evening on this tweet, which was taken while I was still at the market.

• four 5 or 6-ounce soft-shell blue crabs (callinectes sapidus) from Pura Vida Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, cleaned as described in Marylander Stacey Williamson’s charming short video (it’s pretty much a cinch to do), rinsed in running water and dried very thoroughly (so they don’t ‘steam’, meaning to encourage crispness), since I had decided not to use a batter of any kind, brought to room temperature in the meantime, sautéed on both sides (bottom first, but in the end served with that side down) over a medium-high flame in a quarter inch of olive oil inside a 13-inch well-seasoned cast iron pan (for about 3  or 4 minutes altogether) until their texture goes from soft to taut, when they are ready to be removed and arranged on the 2 plates, sprinkled with local sea salt and some freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with juice of a California organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, and garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• one large yellow heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm and 3 green (unripe) cherry tomatoes from    Alewife Farm, all halved, seasoned with salt and black pepper and sprinkled with pericón (Mexican tarragon) from Quarton Farm, sautéed on both sides, then arranged on the plates, garnished with more of the herb and stuck with a bit of its tiny stemmed flowers
• two 7-ounce yellow summer squash from Stokes Farm, washed and dried, sliced thickly on a slight diagonal, sautéed in a heavy, tin-lined copper skillet with a little olive oil (in which one garlic scape from Phillips Farms had first been heated until softened) until the squash had begun to brown, adding thin slices of shishito peppers from Alewife Farm, seeds and pith removed (although that would have removed most of whatever heat they had, which I think we would instead have welcomed) added, and briefly stirred, then mixed with torn leaves of spearmint, the gift of a friend, removed to the plates, drizzled with a little olive oil and a bit more mint scattered on top
• a couple small slices from a loaf of whole wheat (‘Redeemer wheat’) bread that I had shared that afternoon at the Greenmarket with another fan of Lost Bread Co. (neither of us really needed a full loaf that day, so we  Leo offered to split one between us)
• the wine was a Spanish (Catalonoia/Empordà) white, Espelt 2017 Empordà Garnatxa Blanca, from Chambers Street Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Gli impresari’, orchestral works by Haydn “originally conceived as theatre music, before their metamorphosis into symphonies”, which is Volume 7 from the project, ‘Haydn 2032’, all the works performed by Giovanni Antonini conducting the Basel Chamber Orchestra

The original dinner plan was to pick up some good wild salmon at Chelsea Whole Foods, but when it came time to do so I didn’t feel like going out, even to the corner, having just finished doing several loads of laundry early in the evening.

There was a package of two crab cakes inside the freezer, and we hadn’t enjoyed that treat in a while; I also had supplies to make some interesting ‘fixings’ for a complete dinner, so that’s what we had.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), mostly defrosted by the time I began heating the 2 above a low to medium flame, with a drizzle of olive oil, inside a small cast iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa composed of 2 small to medium chopped heirloom tomatoes from 2 different farmers in the Union Square Greenmarket (Norwich Meadows Farm and Eckerton Hill Farm), and 3 golden grape tomatoes from one, Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market, combined with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly ground black pepper, a bit of dried dried red espelette pepper (very mild) from Alewife Farm, much of one small celery stalk and most of one thick red spring onion, mixed with garnished some chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm, arranged on the plates, with more of that wonderful Mexican herb sprinkled on top
• most of an 8-ounce container of plain water buffalo milk labneh from Riverine Ranch, leaving a shallow depression to receive a bit of a very good Greek olive oil (Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Whole Foods Market), a bit of a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk (the two founders are in this video here), a portion of a sweet Italian cipolla di Tropea from Alewife Farm, finely sliced, a little chopped habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, the chopped stem of a baby purple romaine lettuce stem from Jayne and Elizabeth’s TransGenerational Farm, garnished with chopped fresh za’atar leaves, also from TransGenerational Farm, and arranged on leaves of their lettuce that had been dressed with local sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, drops of juice from a Whole Foods Market lemon, and a bit of the same olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was a recording of the Quintet for Oboe and String Quartet (1973) and the Quintet for Bassoon and String Quartet (1977), by the Finnish composer Kahlevi Aho (born 1949) on a Finlandia CD that we’ve owned for many years

It was the eve of Barry’s birthday, so it had to be special!

I had great luck in the Greenmarket that afternoon, and because the fish seller had a huge supply, they were marked down in price.  The reader doesn’t have to be told how I transitioned 4 very alive local blue crabs (callinectes sapidus) onto our 2 plates that evening. For those who really are interested, there’s this charming video of a native Marylander describing the process.

We love soft shell crab, but this was only the second time in decades I’d prepared them at home.

• four live 3-ounce eastern Long Island soft shell crabs from Paul’s Pura Vida Seafood stand at the Union Square Greenmarket, cleaned as described in the video link already mentioned above, but without removing the ‘mustard’, or digestive system (it tastes wonderful!), rinsed in running water and dried very thoroughly (so they don’t ‘steam’, but sauté, and so encouraging crispness (I had decided not to use a batter of any kind), brought to room temperature, sautéed on both sides (bottom first) over a medium-high flame in a quarter inch of olive oil inside a 13-inch seasoned enameled cast iron pan (for about 3, maybe 4 minutes total), seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper as they were turned, removed from the pan and arranged on the 2 plates, sprinkled with a generous amount of freshly-chopped foraged local (Herkimer County) spruce tips from Violet Hill Farm in the Greenmarket and some freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with juice from an organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market
• one larger yellow and 2 smaller green Japanese cucumbers from Eckerton Hill Farm, unpeeled, sliced 2 cm thick [it seems easier to describe something in centimeters rather than inches when a metric measure better fits the dimension I’m describing], sautéed inside a large antique copper pot over a medium-high flame, turning a couple of times, until the cucumbers had begun to carbonize, sprinkling the cucumbers with sea salt in the meantime, 3 or 4 cloves of sliced spring garlic from Lani’s Farm and a pinch of crushed dried habanada pepper stirred in near the end, the vegetable tossed with some torn mild fuzzy spearmint from from Space on Ryder Farm [formerly known as Ryder Farm] arranged on the plates, more mint scattered on top, drizzled with a little olive oil
• a mix of tomatoes, 6 small cherry (‘The best Cherry Tomatoes’) from Stokes Farm, the remainder larger, Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Flatiron Eataly, all halved, warmed inside a small copper skillet (I was distracted and went too far this time, although they tasted as good as ever), seasoned with salt and pepper, scattered with only a pinch of dried Sicilian wild fennel pollen
• near the end of the meal, tin order to enjoy the various juices remaining on the plates, a couple thin slices of ‘Seedy Grains’ (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt) from the Philadelphia bakery, Lost Bread Co., via the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was a super California (Napa) rosé, Matt Parish Napa Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was the Zeitgeist album, ‘In Bone-Colored Light’