I’ve certainly prepared haddock before, but apparently never entered a meal which included the fish into the Food Blog.  It’s quite similar to cod in flavor and texture, and so quite delicious (yet somewhat less expensive), so it was easy to think of a dish which involved potatoes sliced thinly and baked with a savory herb.  This recipe I used was inspired by one in Mark Bittman’s discussion of how to cook white fish fillets.

• a mix, four each, of Reba potatoes from Garden of Spices Farm and German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm (I was improvising from what I found in the larder), washed, but not peeled, sliced thinly, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, spread onto an oven dish and roasted at 425º for about 25 minutes (when they have begun to brown), sprinkled with sage and garlic, both from S. & S.O. Farms, both chopped, topped with a single haddock fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and two tablespoons of oil, and returned to the oven for about 10 minutes, or until the fish is just done
• a small shallot from Keith’s Farm, thinly sliced, stirred briefly in a pan with olive oil, before joined by the leaves of four beautiful tatsoi ‘heads’ from Tamarack Hollow Farm, the vegetables salted, then cooked until wilted but still bright green
• the wine was a California white, Amador County Sobon Estate Viognier 2013

It was an off day, meaning it was neither a Greenmarket day (so no fresh fish) nor one on which I wanted to serve any significant amount of meat.  A simple vegetarian pasta dish would normally have been in order, but then I thought about the fresh eggs, perfectly ripe tomatoes, thinly-sliced prosciutto, and a bit of some very sweet kale which I had on hand, , so I looked around for a formula.

Mark Bittman again.

His 2007 recipe, “Baked Egg With Prosciutto and Tomato” became my starting point.  I had stashed the clipping in my ‘breakfast/lunch’ folder, but I had never used it, perhaps because it suggested only one egg for each portion.  I never totally forgot it however, even though I rarely actually cook breakfast, and seldom cook lunch;  by the time either of us is thinking of those meals, neither is willing to hold off hunger to wait for the prep.

But I love eggs, and I can appreciate them with any meal, so I took another look at the recipe and decided that adding two more eggs to the cazuelas would not corrupt it. Bittman’s text also suggested adding cooked spinach or asparagus to the bottom of each vessel;  I had some purple kale and was sure it would do just fine.

It made for a pretty decent dinner.   Breakfast or lunch even.

• casuelas, each brushed inside with olive oil and layered with purple kale from Lucky Dog Organic, already braised, drizzled with a little cream, small Maine tomatoes (backyard farms.com), sliced, sliced prosciutto, both the tomatoes and the prosciutto from Whole Foods, three eggs from Knoll Krest Farm broken onto the surface, and finally one half of a chopped raw Brussels sprout (found all alone in the crisper, having escaped inclusion in an earlier meal), the whole baked until the eggs were set, the whites solidified, then seasoned with good salt and pepper
• the wine was a Spanish Rioja, Ermita de San Felices Crianza 2009

This squid recipe is as delicious as it is simple to assemble. We’ve enjoyed it often.  This time, because the cephalopods were quite small, and in the oven for just the right length of time, they virtually melted in our mouths, their juices mixed with the olive oil, the pungent dried herb and pepperoncini.

The broccoli on the other hand, was slightly more complicated, surprisingly.  For a while I thought I had completely messed up the recipe.  I found it in a folder with the word, ‘awesome’ scribbled with a red marker, in my own hand.  I didn’t remember having ever used it before (later found that I had, at least once), but the ingredients seemed to promise a perfect accompaniment for the squid:  Fresh, late-season tender broccoli, in small bunches, from a favorite local Greenmarket farmer, with anchovy, garlic, a small amount of breadcrumbs, and a little grated Parmesan.

The instructions were to parboil the broccoli gently for 10 to 12 minutes before removing it, and proceeding to add the other ingredients, each in its turn, on top of the range in a broad pan.  I should have been suspicious right there, because I rarely boil vegetables, except for a minute or two.  The Italians seem to prefer them cooked far longer.  Even before I had finished the dish I was prepared to admit failure, but, while they looked pretty worn out on the plate, I had to admit they were delicious, and surprisingly sweet.  Also very Italian.

I still think I’m going to cut the boiling time short – drastically –  the next time

• cleaned squid bodies and tentacles from P.E.&D.D., washed, patted dry, arranged in a roasting pan which had been heated and brushed with olive oil, then scattered with a mixture of some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia and crushed dried pepperoncini, also from Buon Italia, with a good squeeze of lemon juice and some olive oil drizzled over the top, then roasted for five minutes
• broccoli from Race Farm, boiled gently (for a short time), then cooked with bread crumbs & anchovies (Broccoletti con Pan Grattato e Acciunghe, from the late Kyle Phillips)
• the wine was an Italian white, Calatrasi & Miccichè Bella Nova Terre Siciliane 2013

I had seen the little display of vacuum-wrapped Guinea fowl at the stand in the Union Square Greenmarket a number of times before, but it was only a few weeks ago that I finally asked about them.  They were lying on the table inside Lucky Dog Organic‘s stall.  Rich Giles told me that they were grown and packaged by his farmer neighbor, Jennifer Grossman.  Their farms are in the Catskills.  I was intrigued, partly because of the relative novelty of the bird in this part of the world now (I hadn’t enjoyed Guinea fowl myself in years, although I  knew its virtues), and because I knew the meat was at least slightly more gamey than chicken.  I was also attracted to the birds because I generally try to encourage, buy, and enjoy local meat and fish almost as much as I do local vegetables and fruit.

The weight of the birds being sold on Saturday varied a bit, but they were all the same price, an amount I thought reasonable considering the circumstances of their raising; I picked the largest package;  it was just under three pounds.  There were two of us for dinner; we had leftovers.

A personal remembrance:  Many years ago in South Africa, I frequently saw Guinea fowl in the mixed farm and savanna areas of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State.  Those regular sightings, like the perennial red earth of the Transvaal itself, so utterly different from the Midwest and the New England of my experience, as well as the flies the size of a dormouse, and the Long-Tailed Widowbird, I found all entirely exotic.  The Guinea fowl were particularly sweet and beautiful, because of their movement on the ground, and their checked plumage, but I had rarely brought one to my own table, and certainly not for many years.

I probably worried too much about how and for how long I was going to cook the bird this time, although I had a reasonable concern about it being ready at the same time as the sweet potatoes I would also be roasting.  I didn’t worry about the ‘purples’ (‘greens’), since the very sweet kale could be prepared ahead and reheated, or even left at room temperature.   Then, while researching the possibilities the night before our Sunday dinner, I remembered that I had some cooked chestnuts in the freezer, from, well, I don’t know how far back.  I decided it was time, also an appropriate time, to use them, so I defrosted them.  The next day, both the manner and order of the rest of the meal’s cooking eventually fell into place, and the chestnuts became an integral part of it.

In the end I just prepared a simple chestnut stuffing and roasted the bird, on a rack above the potatoes, until its internal temperature was 160º.  The result was a perfectly-cooked Guinea hen, easily carved, more flavorful and juicy than chicken, and only very slightly more robust (gamey) in flavor; the fact that I didn’t miss the absence of a relish or chutney of any kind should be the giveaway for that.  There were also some pan drippings, just enough even without deglazing the small amount of collected liquid.

I will admit that the sweet potato oven fries saw the light of the kitchen twice after they were first put into the ancient Magic Chef, while I juggled developments in the separate cooking times of bird and tubers.

One more small satisfaction last evening:  Barry and I listened to Marek Janowsky‘s recording of ‘Die Walküre’, beginning at the moment I actually started cooking.  The ‘Ride’ began just as I brought plates to the table (whoa, drama!), and we didn’t rise from the table until the last note.

• a French Guinea hen from Mauer’s Mountain Farms, via Lucky Dog Organic, dried then brought to room temperature, seasoned with salt and pepper, rubbed all over with olive oil, stuffed with a chestnut dressing (see the next bullet point), placed in an enameled cast iron pan slightly larger than the bird, and roasted in a 375º oven for about 55 minutes, during which time it was placed on one side, then the other, and finally on its back, basted regularly throughout, removed from the oven when the internal temperature, measured at the thickest part of the thigh, registered 160º, allowed to rest, then carved and served, along with pan liquids
• a dressing made by sautéeing minced celery, onion and garlic until soft, adding chopped thyme, roughly-chopped cooked chestnuts, breadcrumbs softened in milk, salt, and pepper
• Japanese Sweet potatoes from Samascott Orchards, cut as for fries, tossed with a bit of olive oil and salt, arranged on a ceramic oven pan without touching, roasted until almost done, the heat turned up to 450º ten minutes before removal from the oven, at which time they were sprinkled with a modest amount of Spanish Pimenton Dulce
• purple kale from Lucky Dog Organic, braised with olive oil and a clove of garlic from S.S. & S. O. Farms which had been split and heated in the oil until starting to color, the vegetable then seasoned with salt and pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a French red, Château Prignac Médoc 2009 Grand Vin de Bordeaux

The chiles are chopped very small, but they’re there, even if they seem to be hiding from the camera.

Spaghetti aglio olio e peperoncino:  There’s almost nothing simpler, but if the ingredients are the very best, the dish will be also.   Even keeping within the Italian tradition, I could have added chopped parsley, for both the color and a note of garden freshness, but I really wanted to see if the basic recipe would work well without the ’embellishment’.   The answer is both yes and no:  The flavor was full, and very elegant, but I think I’ll still want to add parsley next time, for ‘the color and the note of garden freshness’.

After the pasta we enjoyed a plate of three cheeses along with a Bosc pear, continuing the evening’s white theme.

• Spaghetto, from Pastificio Afeltra, made from 100% Italian-grown durum wheat semolina, boiled in a large pot of salted water until al dente, then tossed with olive oil in which minced garlic, peperoncino and a bit of minced fresh Thai red and yellow pepper had already been heated.
• the wine was an Italian white, Villa Antinori Toscana 2012