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marinated grilled swordfish; heirloom tomato; puntarelle

I bought more swordfish than I really should have, because, while the individual steaks at the fishers’ stall yesterday were really too large for one, they would have been even less satisfactory for two, especially for two of us who really love swordfish.

Warren, who works the stall and is also one of the fishermen, steered me to the swordfish bucket when I asked what would be my best choice if it turned out I’d have to wait until the next day to cook a fish. Then, while complimenting the quality of the particular catch (I’ve learned to always pay close attention to his words and his body language when I’m contemplating – out loud – what to bring home; sometimes he volunteers a suggestion, and it’s always on target) he pointed to the rim of pale flesh just under the long line of skin; I think he said something about rich belly meat.

The main vegetable was puntarelle, which I’ve been delighted to have experienced at home a number of times before, but apparently never as it really should be. At the Greenmarket on Wednesday I came across a form that must be pretty close to what would be found in Rome, and for the first time ever we enjoyed really crunchy curled strands of this wonderful mild chicory. The farm that produced our puntarelle is more than halfway up the state of Vermont, where the climate isn’t anything like that of the farms where cicoria asparago is grown in Lazio.

  • two really beautiful swordfish steaks (20 ounces) from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated for more than half an hour in a mixture of a couple tablespoons of olive oil, a bit of  super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano, which is sold still attached to bunches of stems inside a cellophane bag at Buon Italia, one tiny yellow Brazil wax pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, and a thinly sliced section of a red spring onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, after which the steaks were drained and covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs (to help retain the moisture, and keep it from drying out), pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 minutes on each side, or until barely cooked all of the way through, removed, arranged on the plates, seasoned with a little local salt, Phil Karlin’s P.E. & D.D. Seafood Long Island Sound sea salt, drizzled with some ‘tomato water’ that remained from a salsa prepared for a meal a few days earlier, a bit of juice from a small California organic Whole Foods Market lemon (Sespe Creek Organics) squeezed on top, and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • one ripe red heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, sprinkled with sea salt and black pepper, arranged face down on the same grill as the swordfish, near the end of the latter’s cooking time, turned once, then arranged on the plates, tossed with chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm, and drizzled with a little olive oil

  • one ‘head’ of Puntarelle [cicoria di catalogna], an Italian chicory (28 ounces), from Tamarack Hill Farm, the outer straight leaves removed for another time, the remainder cooked pretty much as described on this site (for which I’m very, very grateful); I used ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm, local sea salt, 3 rinsed and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, one and a half tablespoons of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, 3 tablespoons of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and Whole Foods Market house whole pepper

Noting: It means nothing of course, but it is literally although only slightly remarkable, and I don’t make a big thing about coincidences anyway, but except for the wine (Galician then) and the music (more ancient in 2018), this meal was almost a duplicate of one I had prepared 13 months before, right down to the serendipitous tomato water.

emmer reginetti with puntarelle, capers, lemon; melon, lime

It had been a tough day, with both of us at home again, trying to not stress out while a handful of guys were busy both inside the apartment and on the roof garden just outside, installing a split-system AC system [yes!]. Although they were finished and gone by the end of the afternoon, it was late in the evening before I had returned to its place each item that had been moved to accommodate their labors and the size of the boxes they had brought in the day before. There was also a lot of vacuuming and spraying of roof pavers.

At this point the suggestion that we order pizza was made, but I decided I’d prefer to cook, and would actually be up to doing so, something easy, especially something that would incorporate a green we had prized the day before, since there was still some remaining in the crisper, already washed but not dressed.

I was shocked by my ambition, under the circumstances, and Barry even more so, but it really was easy, and it really was delicious.

  • two maturing Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm and one small whole dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi, from Buon Italia, heated together inside an antique, high-sided copper pot until the garlic had softened and become pungent, then several handfuls of thinly-sliced puntarelle leaves from Tamarack Hill Farm that had been washed (and ice-water chilled, the day before) were gradually added, while stirring over a low-to-moderate flame, after which 8 ounces of some of Brooklyn’s own pasta, in this case an emmer reginetti, aka, mafaldine (‘little queens’) from Sfoglini Pasta Shop in the Union Square Greenmarket, that had been cooked al dente, were introduced, along with almost 2 tablespoons of Sicilian salted capers from Buon Italia that had first been rinsed thoroughly and dried on a piece of paper towel, and some organic Whole Foods Market lemon juice, before gradually pouring into the pot at least half of a cup of reserved pasta water while stirring, until the sauce was emulsified, the pasta seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, arranged in 2 shallow bowls, a good olive oil drizzled around the circumference, and shavings of some Parmigiano Reggiano Hombre from Whole Foods Market scattered on top
  • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Le Salse, Verdicchio di Matelica, 2016, from Flatiron Wines

There was a dessert.

  • segments of an Asian/Korean melon from Norwich Meadows Farm, served with segments of lime from Whole Foods Market and a bit of Maldon Salt

 

marinated grilled swordfish; tomatoes, thyme; puntarelle

The excellent swordfish and the luscious tomatoes were terrific side dishes for the puntarelle, a huge hit with both Barry and myself last night; it was probably the best we’d ever had at home.

 

  • two thick 7.5-ounce swordfish steaks from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, halved, marinated for more than half an hour in a mixture of a couple tablespoons of olive oil, a bit of a pungent dried Sicilian oregano, sold still on the stems at Buon Italia, a small amount of crushed, dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, about the same bit of a piece of crushed dried golden/orange habanada pepper, and a thinly-sliced section of a small early, scallion-like red onion from Berried Treasures Farm, after which they were drained, covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 minutes on each side, or until barely cooked all of the way through, removed, arranged on the plates, seasoned with a little Maldon salt, drizzled with some tomato water that remained from an earlier meal, a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed on top, sprinkled with a bit of onion that had been preserved, drizzled with a little olive oil, finished with a garnish of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • four ripe heirloom tomatoes, of different colors, sizes and shapes, and from 2 different local fields, those of Norwich Meadows Farm and Eckerton Hill Farm, halved, sprinkled with a small amount of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, briefly placed inside the grill pan just as the swordfish was being removed, turned over once, then arranged on the plates, drizzled with a little olive oil and garnished with chopped thyme from Campo Rosso Farm
  • only a part of a generous tied bundle of puntarelle from Tamarack Hollow Farm, thoroughly washed, the leaves separated and placed inside a large bowl of ice water, where they were allowed to sit outside the refrigerator for about one hour, while, half an hour later, three quarters of a tablespoon of red wine vinegar was placed inside a small bowl with 2 well-rinsed, finely-chopped large Agostino Recca salted Sicilian anchovies and 2 crushed Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, also allowed to rest, for this time for only about half an hour, and also outside the refrigerator, at which time the garlic was removed from the small bowl and the puntarelle was drained and dried (using a kitchen towel), placed inside a large bowl, the vinegar mixture poured over it, the greens seasoned very lightly with sea salt, and one and a half tablespoons of olive oil added, along with freshly-ground black pepper, and then the salad mixed or tossed at the last minute and served [the puntarelle I have always prepared appears to be a leaf-only version of Cicoria Cataglogna, I’ve never seen the form with the juicy edible shoots, or sweet, hollow inner stalks, in our own local greenmarket; there’s more information here]
  • the wine was a  wonderful Spanish (Galicia) white, Valdesil, Godello Sobre Lias, 2015, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘Ramon Llull: Temps de conquestes, de diàleg i desconhort’, Jordi Savall conducting Hespérion XXI and La Capella Reial de Catalunya

pigeon toasts; spicy mushroom/pigeon sauce on puntarelle

This meal included many of the same players we enjoyed in a much more ambitious meal the night before. It was a small triumph of home economics,* and the ingredients made it nearly as delicious as they had the first time around.

It was also dramatically easier to put together.

The dinner began with an appetizer which utilized the offal (hearts and livers, in this case) of the 2 pigeons we had enjoyed on Monday.

  • eight slices of a more-than-day-old buckwheat baguette from Runner & Stone Bakery, toasted on top of the stove on my ‘Camp-A-Toaster’, then sautéed in a little olive oil, turning several times, until they were all crispy and succulent, spread with the livers and hearts of two California farmed pigeons from D’Artagnan,  purchased from Frank at O. Ottomanelli & Sons Prime Meat Market, that had been briefly sautéed in a little olive oil inside a medium tin-lined copper skillet after a bit of finely-chopped Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic and several tiny chopped scallions from Willow Wisp Farm had first been softened, the offal bits removed and finely chopped, a small amount of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm, about a teaspoon of tomato paste, a splash of a dry Oregon Gewürztraminer, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper all added to the pan and mixed together, the chopped pigeon innards returned to the pan and stirred with the rest of the ingredients
  • a bit of wild cress from Lani’s Farm, dressed with a very good Sicilian olive oil, from from Agricento, Azienda Agricola Mandranova (using exclusively Nocellara olives) sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper

* Basically, the only thing in the main, or pasta course, that had not been a part of an earlier meal, or originally purchased to be a part of another meal, was the pasta itself.

There were mushrooms! They had originally been gathered to be a part of a different recipe for squab than the one I ended up using.

  • three quarters of a pound of fresh tagliatelle from Luca Donofrio’s pastificio inside the Flatiron Eataly, cooked for only about one minute, drained, tossed with olive oil and a little of the reserved pasta water, arranged in shallow bowls, topped with a sauce that had begun the day before as the rich liquid in which the pigeons had been braised, now finished with a small amount of chipotle pepper adobo sauce (from a container that had contributed to this years Thanksgiving meal), and further enriched by the addition of 8 ounces of chopped Bulich Mushroom Company shiitake mushrooms that had been sautéed in olive oil until lightly cooked, the mushrooms seasoned with salt, pepper, a little California merlot, and the dish garnished with chopped parsley from S. & S.O. Produce

 

wild boar sausage, boiled potato, leeks; Roman puntarelle

I would have picked a sausage from Schaller & Weber, since I love patronizing that wonderful Yorkville German food emporium, and Barry was going to be up there in the afternoon, but I was thinking of this as an Italian meal, mostly because of the puntarelle I wanted to serve, so it was the turn of our local Italian outlet, Eataly.

But then the very Germanic potato ended up as a part of the meal after all (although dressed with olive oil rather than butter).

  • four links of a wild boar sausage from Eataly (the ingredients were, simply, wild boar, salt, pepper, and wine), cooked by heating them with about a quarter inch of water in the bottom of a covered heavy cast iron pan for about 15 minutes, removing the lid and allowing the liquid to evaporate (although, not wanting to overcook them, on this occasion I poured out most of the now-flavored liquid before continuing, indicating that this technique is a work in process for me), then letting the sausages brown, turning occasionally, in the fat that accumulated with the small amount of liquid that remained until they began to look just a little blistery
  • one large, oddly double-spheroid, ‘yellow potato’ from from N.J. Jersey Farm Produce, Inc. in the 23rd Street Saturday farmers market, halved, making 2 rounds, scrubbed, boiled, drained, dried, mixed with a little olive oil and chopped French leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
  • one small bunch (about 6 ounces) of young puntarelle from Tamarack Hollow Farm, thoroughly washed, the leaves separated and placed inside a large bowl of ice water, where they were allowed to let sit, outside the refrigerator, for about one hour, while, half an hour later, three quarters of a tablespoon of red wine vinegar was placed inside a small bowl with 2 well-rinsed, finely-chopped salted Sicilian anchovies and 2 crushed cloves of garlic from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and allowed to rest for about half an hour, also outside the refrigerator, at which time the garlic was removed from the small bowl and the puntarelle was drained and dried (using towels or a vegetable spinner), placed inside a large dry bowl and the vinegar mixture poured over it, seasoned very lightly with sea salt, one and a half tablespoons of olive oil added, along with freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, the salad mixed/tossed at the last minute and served [NOTE: the puntarelle didn’t curl up as it really should have, probably because it had not been sliced at all, and so did not up as thin as it would have had I been working with a larger bunch, or ‘head’ of this very special chicory]
  • the wine was an Italian (Puglia) red, Salice Salentino DOC, from Philippe Liquors and Wine
  • the music was from the album, ‘William Christie conducts Charpentier’