The 4 or 5 rows of colors and textures look great here, but I decided to also include a low angle detail image.

 

Even under ordinary circumstances it’s difficult to resist the aesthetic and taste appeal of sea bass fillets, but when they’re on sale, as they were on Wednesday, it’s virtually impossible.

This is also a very easy fish to cook. In this case it was merely seasoned with salt and pepper and briefly sautéed in a combination of butter and oil. The mushrooms that accompanied it were prepared after the fish had been cooked, although using the same pan, with the juices that remained.

• two 8-ounce Black Sea Bass fillets from American Seafood Company, washed, dried, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, sautéed for 2 to 3 minutes over a fairly brisk flame with butter and a little olive oil inside a large, vintage thick-copper oval long-handled pan, skin side down, then turned over and the other side cooked for about the same length of time, removed when done and arranged on 2 warm plates (I had them inside the oven, set to its lowest temperature, but if left outside an oven they should at least be covered a little to retain their warmth),

then, with 2 tablespoons of butter added to the pan, 5 ounces of beautiful chestnut mushrooms from Gail’s Farm stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, cut up, mostly into 2, maybe 3 pieces each, sautéed, stirring, until lightly cooked, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch of a hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm and my last fresh habanada pepper of the season, chopped, from Alewife Farm), a couple tablespoons of chopped parsley from Phillips Farms, and a tablespoon and a half of the juice of an organic California Whole Foods Market lemon, the mushrooms stirred some more, everything in the pan then spooned onto the plates to the side of the fish (the skin of the bass is too beautiful to cover up)

• one medium head of tardivo, a very special chicory, a beautiful form of radicchio that originated in northern Italy, that I found in the stall of Willow Wisp Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket that same afternoon, prepared by washing it under cold running water, the moisture shaken off, cut into 4 segments lengthwise, and a V-cut made most of the way through the root ends of each, which allowed that dense part to cook more evenly with the remainder, the quarters arranged inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan cut side up, covered with a few thyme sprigs from Keith’s Farm, seasoned generously with salt and pepper and drizzled with a tablespoon of olive oil, baked inside a 400º oven for about 12 minutes, then turned over and cooked for some 8 minutes more, turned once more so a cut side is once again facing up, returned to the oven once again, but, this time for only a couple minutes or so, or until the stem ends were tender when pierced with a thin blunt metal pin (my all-purpose kitchen tester), removed from the oven [note: the tardivo can be served either hot or warm]
• the plate was garnished with a row of micro nasturtium from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Lombardy) white, Lugana, Ca’ Lojera 2018, from Astor Wines
• the music was an album of very early Mozart symphonies, Gottfried von der Goltz conducting the Freiburger Barockorchestra

 

[I had forgotten to photograph the mushrooms last Wednesday, so the image I used here is one I took last May, but of the same variety, and from the same farm, cropped differently]

It would have been a pretty interesting menu for any important meal: Lots of oysters, venison chops, sweet potato frites, a baby brassica mix.

It was also, in spite of the absence of turkey (and many of the other fetish items associated with everyone’s very proprietary holiday), very much in tune with the occasion we observed last Thursday: On the shores of Plymouth Bay in 1621 there were no mashed potatoes (no potatoes of any kind in fact), cranberry sauce, or pie on the long tables the precarious little community of Pilgrims had set up. Their thanksgiving meal did however include shellfish and venison, and those delights were our inspiration for our own holiday meal.

But we aren’t strict constructionists when it comes to the enjoyment of  food, so Barry and I did decide to add some fine drink and a few other accompaniments we would have appreciated had we been there 400 years ago, and they were available.

The image below is of the bowl of ‘Originals’, the first of two caches of oysters that Barry and I opened and spread across a broad expanse of partially crushed ice.  I’d packed the ice inside a vintage 13 1/2-inch majolica bowl that my lover Tom had purchased in Majorca and brought back with him from a US Navy tour to the Mediterranean in the early 1970’s, carefully stowed inside his duffel bag.

• a full 50 Walrus and Carpenter Oysters from South County, Rhode Island, Crassostera Virginica (25 ‘Originals’, from Ninigret Pond, in Charlestown, and 25 ‘Dutchies’, from Dutch Harbor in Jamestown), that Barry and I had ordered from Jules Opton-Himmel, the founder of the 2 farms, and carried home from his Mother’s Broadway apartment house roof the night before, opened and consumed in 2 stages, the ‘Originals’ first, followed by the Dutchies’, early in the evening of Thanksgiving
• slices of a small sunflower, flax and peasant sourdough baguette from Hawthorne Valley Farm
• the ‘wine’ was a local New York (Esopus) cider, Metal House Cider from Copake Wine, but because we were with the oysters for so long, we exhausted the bottle and ended sampling them with a wonderful chilled Chicago gin, Letherbee’s flagship bottle

There was an interval before we were able to begin the main course, but it was welcome, above all to the cook.

• four fresh (never frozen), local 6-ounce, Dutchess County fallow deer venison loin chops from Quattro’s Game Farm & Store in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, dried, rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coating of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, then set aside on the counter covered with waxed paper for about an hour, placed over moderately high heat in 1 to 2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside a heavy oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan and cooked rare to medium rare, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, which meant little more than 2 minutes on each side, transferred to warm plates to rest while the bottom of the pan was scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, 2 tablespoons of a decent brandy (I used Courvoisier V.O.) added to the pan and briefly cooked over high heat, until it had almost become a syrup, the sauce poured over the chops, which were then garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• twelve or more ounces of Japanese sweet potatoes from Lani’s Farm, unpeeled, but scrubbed pretty thoroughly, cut as french fries, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, 5 medium unpeeled Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic cloves and a little crushed dried habanada pepper, roasted just above 400º in a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan for about 35 minutes, or until crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and chewy on the edges, garnished with chopped parsley from Philipps Farms

• a beautiful, fresh, and superb-tasting ‘braising mix’ (in late-November!) of many kinds of young brassicas (kale, collards, mustards, escarole, and dandelion) from Keith’s Farm, barely wilted in a little olive oil in which several small rocambole garlic cloves, also from his Farm, had first been heated until fragrant and beginning to soften, seasoned with sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
• the wine was a great California (Sonoma) red, Triumph by 1849 Wine Co., a blend of Petit Syrah, Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, and Petit Verdot, the generous gift from an
• artist friend, Saber

We skipped the planned dessert (it would have been 4 different kinds of tiny pies from the Greenmarket, with a very mature gift Sauternes, but we stayed around for some sips of Koval, a phenomenal Chicago Bourbon

• the contemporary American music we listened to before dinner was assembled by Barry and placed on this Spotify playlist 
• the music through much of the dinner was Leonard Bernstein’s ‘Candide’, the recording of the 1989 concert performance at the Barbican in London, Bernstein conducting the London Symphony Orchestra and the  London Symphony Chorus, with Adolph Green,  Christa Ludwig,  Nicolai Gedda,  and Jerry Hadley

The only swordfish steaks left inside the fishers’ bucket on Friday when I arrived at his stand in the Union Square Greenmarket were a bit larger than what we normally share, so, at Paul’s suggestion, that evening I decided to cut off a smaller section, grill it with the other two, larger parts, that we had for dinner that night, but then put it away in the refrigerator, immersed in olive oil, to use in an appetizer the next day, its character to be determined then.

That’s exactly what I did, and it was really delicious. It was an incredibly simple operation, but I should have arranged it to look more simple than it did. My mind was already on the next course however, so the minimal aesthetic just didn’t happen.

• four ounces of a swordfish steak from Pura Vida Seafood that had been marinated and grilled the day, after which it had been refrigerated and submerged in olive oil overnight, brought to room temperature the next evening, removed from the oil, cut into 8 thin slices, arranged on a bed of washed purple butter lettuce from Fledging Crow Vegetables and some leaves from a radicchio variegato di Castelfranco from Campo Rosso Farm that had already prepared, dressed with a good Cretan (Chania) olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (a Koroneiki varietal) and a squeeze of organic California lemon, both from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, local P.E. & D.D. sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with chopped small stems and leaves from a small green stalk of celery from Norwich Meadows Farm, and also some scissored chives from Philipps Farms, the entire salad garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• there were slices from a loaf of the excellent ‘homadama’ (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
• the wine was a really excellent Spanish (Jerez) fortified wine, Gonzalez-Byass “Tio Pepe” Fino Sherry, from Foragers Wines

Having the swordfish on hand for an appetizer meant I could reduce or simplify the main course, which, because of how special the entrée turned out to be, was an excellent idea. The goat was beautiful, perfectly cooked, and very simple to carve, but above all, absolutely delicious, at least as tasty as a much more expensive rack of lamb [this perfect small rack, plenty for the 2 of us, set me back just less than $16].

• one small (13.5-ounce) rack of goat from Marie, who was managing the Union Square table of Lynnhaven Dairy Goats, dry-marinated for about 2 hours [the time could be less, if you started late, or much longer, but in any event I try to have it outside the refrigerator only for the last hour] in a mixture of rosemary leaves from Keith’s Farm, removed from their stems; 2 medium crushed fresh bay leaves from Uncle Vinny’s, possibly Columbian, from Westside Market; the zest from a small Chelsea Market lemon; a small part of one crushed dried habanada pepper; sea salt, and some freshly-ground black pepper, after which the goat was dried with paper towels and coated lightly with olive oil, the oven preheated to 425º, a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan placed inside for 10 minutes, the rack arranged inside the hot pan flesh side down and roasted for about 17 minutes this time [the instant thermometer read exactly 120º then, the first time I checked], for rare to medium rare doneness, and not at all bloody, allowed to rest for 7 minutes or so, loosely covered with foil to keep warm, the ribs then separated into 8 chops with a heavy knife and arranged on the 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of the lemon from which the zest had been removed earlier, drizzled with a bit of olive oil,

and garnished with some of the new growth at the top of a horseradish root purchased the day before from Holy Schmitts Horseradish in the Greenmarket, chopped

• more than three quarters of a pound of really gorgeous small Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, washed, trimmed, dried, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a the same 425º oven as the goat on a large unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside, or for about 15 minutes, and finished with a small amount of decent balsamic vinegar flicked onto them with a small brush
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) red, Quinta do Pôpa ‘Contos da Terra’, Douro Red 2016, from Astor Wines

 

• the music throughout was Handel’s 1721 opera, ‘Floridante’, Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Roberta Invernizzi, Marijana Mijanovic, and Joyce DiDonato, among others

Sometimes it all comes together when you weren’t particularly expecting it. This meal was a perfect symphony of its fairly basic elements, none of which were extraordinary on their own except for their freshness and their quality.

• one gorgeous 17-ounce section from a fillet of wild caught sockeye salmon (previously frozen), from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, halved, placed unseasoned, skin sides up, inside a heavy medium size enameled cast iron pan in which a little more than 2 tablespoons of a rich local Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had been allowed to melt over a low to medium flame until the foam began to recede, the salmon then placed inside a 425º oven until barely cooked, meaning about 8 minutes, flipped over after 5, removed, arranged on the plates, only now seasoned, with some local Long Island sea salt (P.E. & D.D. Seafood/Phil Karlin’s own) and freshly-ground black pepper, scattered with scissored chives from Phillips Farms, allowed to rest for a couple minutes before serving, arranged on the plates and garnished on the edges with micro purple radish from Windfall Farms
• thirteen ounces of ruby crescent fingerling potatoes (which are always really delicious roasted) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, the leaves from some rosemary stems, also from Phillips Farms, and a small amount of crushed golden home-dried habanada pepper, arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at 425º for about 20 minutes
• one bunch of beautiful fresh, almost glowing, dandelion greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed in several changes of water, drained, the last of the drained water set aside, cut into 2 or 3-inch pieces, barely wilted in a little olive oil, along with 3 small cloves of ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm which had been heated in the oil until fragrant, a bit of the reserved water then added to loosen the greens, seasoned with a little crushed dried dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, salt and pepper, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• the wine was a super, medium bodied Austrian (Mittelburgenland) red, Hochäcker Blaufränkisch 2015 (ours was not a magnum), from Flatiron Wines, from a district that shares its longer history with Hungary; but the story involving a more recent event, just thirty years ago, involving the Austria-Hungary border of which it is a part, is described here
• the music was a gorgeous opera composed by Vivaldi for the 1724 carnival season in Rome, ‘Il Giustino’, Ottavio Dantone conducting the Accademia Bizantina

They look like felafel, but they’re carrots, roasted carrots, more-or-less-round roasted carrots. They’re a 19th-century French heirloom variety, so not just a new fancy, not just cute, but really delicious.

The foods that share the plate are familiar enough on this blog, but were no less tasty Tuesday night.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty, skin side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast rubbed, top and bottom with a mixture of local sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing on the counter for about 45 minutes to an hour, then pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat for a total of about 10 minutes, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat strained can be used in cooking at another time, if desired), turned over once, removed when medium rare, cut crosswise into 2 portions and checked for the right doneness in the center, which means definitely no more than medium rare, and maybe even a bit less, left to sit for several minutes before it was drizzled with a little juice from an organic California lemon and some house Portuguese olive oil, both from Whole Foods Market, garnished with scissored chives from Phillips Farms

• ten ounces of so of small round heirloom Atlas or Parisisan Market carrots from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, scrubbed, stem ends trimmed, dried, cut into discs 1/4 inch thick, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, black pepper, more than half a teaspoon of crushed Sicilian wild fennel seed (Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo from Eataly Flatiron), and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, placed, bot crowding, inside a large unglazed ceramic Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted at 400º for about 30 minutes, arranged on the plates and garnished with parsley from Phillips Farms

• one 8-ounce head of treviso from Campo Rosso Farm, rinsed, drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into 6 sections, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan after first securing the leaves of each with a toothpick, covered with thyme branches from Phillips Farms, seasoned generously with salt and black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a 400º oven for 18 minutes or so, turned over more than halfway through onto another cut side, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) red, Mateus Nicolau de Almeida, Trans Douro Express ‘Baixo Corgo’ 2015, from Flatiron Wines   
• the music was an album of some amazing chamber works by the Swiss composer Jürg Frey (b. 1953), (some information on Frey and other composers of the so-called ‘Wandelweiser collective’, from Alex Ross in 2016)