This was a slightly different version of a favorite recipe.  I had already bought a tuna steak at the Greenmarket and was about to head home when I spotted what turned out to be the last young fennel bulb on a table at Bodhitree Farm.  I usually ‘pave’ tuna steaks with crushed fennel seed and dried chiles, and I thought that this time I might find a way to serve it with fennel two ways.

I hadn’t really brought home enough fiddleheads, and I wanted to use them as soon as possible, so most of the fresh fennel material went toward filling out the portion of green vegetable on the plate.

After we had sat down and begun the meal I decided that the basic tuna recipe doesn’t really need any gilding, but the combination of young fennel bulb, fiddleheads, and spring garlic was pretty good, and subtly complex.

• a 12-ounce section of tuna loin from Blue Moon Fish Company, cut into two pieces, rubbed on both sides with a mixture of fennel seed and dried peperoncini, ground together, seasoned with salt, and pepper, then pan-grilled for only a minute or so on each side, finished with a good squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkling of fresh fennel fronds, chopped
• a few fiddleheads from Tamarack Hollow Farm, one thinly-sliced spring fennel bulb, and one spring garlic from Keith’s Farm, sliced lengthwise into two halves, all three vegetables pan-grilled for a few minutes, then combined with sliced stems from the fennel bulb and some chopped green parts from the garlic, after they had been lightly cooked with olive oil in a separate pan, the mix then seasoned and tossed with more olive oil
• small ripe grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms, halved and then briefly heated in oil, seasoned, and finished with some torn leaves of fresh New York rooftop basil from Gotham Greens
• the wine was a Spanish white, Abadía de San Campio Albariño Rías Baixas 2013
• the music was Handel Concerti Grossi, played by Tafelmusik

This is my favorite warm-weather-prepare-in-advance-to-be-free-for-talking-to-guests-and-still-serve-an-elegant-pasta dish, and it happens to be even more delicious than it looks or the list of ingredients might suggest.  It’s also pretty fool-proof, and in fact, except for the boiling of the pasta, requires no real cooking skill. [One, at his request, I emailed the recipe to a friend who had enjoyed it at our home;  he likes to entertain, but, by his own admission, has no interest in or talent for things ‘kitchen’; he told me it was a great success.]

It’s a great summer meal, and although it’s a pasta dish, and technically a salad, it easily stars as an entrée, balanced before and after with an antipasto, also room-temperature, and a cheese or fruit course.  It should serve at least 6 under those circumstances, but since it really is just as good as a leftover, and this time we were only 4 (and had seconds), the two of us were able to enjoy it again three days later.

[After that introduction, I can admit that the picture of the pasta dish was taken just as we sat down when we were having the leftovers (I had forgotten to snap the entrée on the first night, when we had two guests); the picture of the antipasto, was taken the first night.]

The dish is ‘Fusilli Mediterranei’, the recipe I use is included in Anna Tasca Lanza‘s treasure, ‘The Flavors of Sicily: Stories, Traditions, and Recipes for Warm-Weather Cooking’, one of my favorite Italian food sources.  Tasca prescribes over two pounds of ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and cubed, but the first time I used the recipe it wasn’t yet tomato season, so I substituted some excellent ripe grape tomatoes, halved each of them, and used a tiny spoon to press out the seeds and juice.  It’s the way I prepare the dish each time.

You should have a large bowl on hand, and allow about three hours time to prepare the dish.  Only one hour involves actual work (mostly dealing with the tomatoes and pitting the olives); the remaining two are for letting the ingredients rest at room temperature at two points during the preparation.

• we began the meal with an antipasto of DOK Dall’Ava prosciutto di San Daniele D.O.P. from Eatlay; served with ‘wild arugula’ from S. & S.O. Produce, the greens drizzled with good olive oil and drops of lemon; and slices of ‘Rustic Classic’ bread from Eataly
• when the tomatoes [this time, somewhat more than 3 baskets of grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms] have been prepared as described above, put them in a colander, sprinkle with salt, a bit of sugar, hot pepper flakes, and turn to coat; add 2 cloves of minced garlic, 4 salted anchovies, rinsed, filleted, and chopped, 1 1/2 cups of basil [from Gotham Greens], torn; a cup of good black olives pitted and cut in half, and half a cup of salted capers, rinsed; toss all to mix and let stand at room temperature for an hour; start to boil the pasta [I used ‘Fusilli con Buco’ from Il Pastaio di Gragnano] about half of the way through that time (so it will be ready when the tomato mix is) until almost al dente, run cold water over the pasta to cool it down, and after transferring the tomato mixture to a large serving bowl and stirring in 1/2 cup of olive oil, add the drained pasta to it, toss everything together and let stand at room temperature, again for one hour; when ready to serve, sprinkle the serving bowls with sturdy (ideally, homemade) breadcrumbs which have meanwhile been toasted with a little olive oil until lightly browned and set aside to cool
• the wine was an excellent California rosé, Akiyoshi Sangiovese Rosé 2013
• the music was Leonard Bernstein performing Charles Ive’s Symphony No. 2

This supper was totally improvised.  We arrived home fairly late from the Wagmag Benefit, and we both had to be up early the next day, so time was important.  I had some fiddlehead ferns in the refrigerator, already rinsed, which had not been included in the meal the night before, plus seven eggs, all kinds of spring allium (allia, alliums?), and a few little bitty green things which would help make a good picture.

• fiddlehead ferns from Tamarack Hollow Farm, added to a seasoned steel pan in which spring garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm and baby leeks from Rogowski Farm had already been softened in a mixture of olive oil and butter, 7 lightly-whipped eggs from Millport Dairy poured into the mixture then cooked slowly over a low-to-moderate flame until the eggs were almost cooked, continuing with Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, sliced into four disks, arranged on the top of the mixture before it was placed in a pre-heated broiler, finished with scissored chives from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and a sprinkling of cress from Stokes Farm
• slices from a bâtard from Amy’s Bread, with some olive oil drizzled onto the plate with the frittata
• the wine was a South African white, Nederburg Foundation Lyric 2014, a combination of Sauvignon Blanc, Chenin Blanc, and Chardonnay
• the music was streamed from Yle Klassinen

While I was still gathering the ingredients at the Greenmarket today, I began to think of this meal as something of a miniature model of the New England I love. The bluefish represents the Southeast coast (Rhode Island waters, for me), while the fiddleheads seem very much a treasure of the green north.

• two nine-ounce fillets of bluefish from Blue Moon Fish, cooked along the lines described in a recipe which we had enjoyed several times in the past;  it’s from Mark Bittman’s “Fish: The Complete Guide to Buying and Cooking“; my other ingredients included Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods; two baby leeks from Rogowski Farm; chopped rosemary from Phillips Farm; and chopped parsley from Rogowski Farm
• fiddlehead ferns from Tamarack Hollow Farm, blanched for about 3-4 minutes, drained, dried, added to a pan in which a sliced garlic clove had been allowed to begin to color and some chopped thyme had been introduced and warmed, the ferns briefly sautéed, removed and drizzled with lemon juice
• the wine was a Spanish white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
• the music was Joan Tower’s ‘Stroke’

 

Barry: “I’d be quite happy to have this in a restaurant.”

 

When I was starting out, I didn’t have much of an emotional investment in the success of this pretty simple meal, even though I was thinking of how much I loved cooking with both radishes and radish greens (not always as part of the same entrée), but, in the end, it was actually pretty terrific.  The basic structure of the entrée was described in this ‘bon appétit’ recipe, although I took some liberties here, some out of personal preference, some prescribed by necessity, because of what I had available on hand.

• I used the second half pound of the package of Benedetto Cavalieri ‘Single Orecchiette’ I had incorporated in this more traditional recipe last week; coarse fresh breadcrumbs from the heal of a Balthazar’s Multi-Grain boule; parti-colored radishes, and their greens, from Norwich Meadows Farm; and Parmesan cheese from Buon Italia
• the wine was an Italian white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2013
• the music was Janos Starker playing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 6, Part I and Part II

‘Tautoga onitis‘.  In New York it’s called ‘Blackfish’, but in Rhode Island and elsewhere along the New England coast it’s know as ‘Tautog‘, a name which originated with the Narragansetts.  Surprisingly, none of this knowledge seems to have been enough to get this delicious fish onto our table, in spite of my passion for both New York and Rhode Island – until now.

I was at the Greenmarket today, mulling over the choices offered by P.E. & D. D. Seafood, when Wade asked me whether I had ever cooked Blackfish.  I told him that I thought not, and asked what other names it might go by.  “Tautog’ came the answer, and my ears perked up; I had remembered hearing the name during the time I lived in Rhode Island (from the mid-60s to the mid-80s).  I immediately got a terrific sales pitch describing the virtues of this fish, but I think I had already been sold as soon as I heard the word, “Tautog”.

It turned out I had made a great choice.  The Blackfish/Tautog was absolutely delicious, and it seems it would accommodate any number of preparations. I understand that it rarely appears in any market, but I will definitely be looking for it.

• two eight-ounce fillets of Blackfish from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, prepared pretty much along the lines of this recipe by Melissa Clark, but substituting thyme leaves for the sage she suggests, and a mix of cayenne pepper and Spanish paprika (dolce) for the Aleppo Syrian red pepper which is no longer available here (for obvious, and very sad reasons); I also added some sliced spring garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm; my other sources included thyme from Eataly, and Kalamata olives from Buon Italia
• sweet baby collard greens from Central Valley Farm, sautéed lightly in a pan in which two halved garlic cloves had briefly sweated, seasoned, and drizzled with olive oil

This is a glimpse of the pan just before it went into a 425º oven for about eight minutes.

We’ve been pretty distracted by a number of evening commitments over the last few days, only some of them related to another New York art fair weekend (full disclosure:  I did not go to Frieze).  Although we still managed to eat very well, it means that there hasn’t been a lot of excitement in the kitchen lately.  Tonight’s meal represented the beginning of a return to real cookery, even if it was pretty much only a question of assembly.

• Rustichella d’Abruzzo Pappardelle (an eight-ounce package of dry noodles), served with a sauce using Golden Oyster Mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation in the Greenmarket (see the image below), prepared pretty much according to this simple recipe (note: I toasted the pine nuts before adding them to the bowls)
• the wine was an Italian red, Gabbiano Chianti 2012 (we note that the vineyard itself was established nearly 900 years earlier, which is not extraordinary in that part of the world)
• the music was streamed from Counterstream Radio

Golden Oyster Mushrooms, at the Blue Oyster Cultivation stand

It was another anniversary, and the cool weather returned just in time for us to enjoy a meal in which two of its three elements asked for a 425 to 450 degree oven.

• two 6-ounce Tri-tip steaks from Dickson Farmstand Meats, dried, seasoned with freshly-ground black pepper, seared, then roasted in a very hot oven for about seven minutes, salted and removed to warm plates, where they were allowed to rest for a few minutes while three ramp bulbs, chopped, were stirred around in the still-hot pan, followed by their leaves, cut lengthwise, and the steaks finally sprinkled with a bit of lemon juice and olive oil, covered with the ramps, and served
• small Gold Nugget potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, boiled, then dried in the same vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had been cooked, and finished with salt, pepper, butter, scissored chives, and chopped parsley
• large spears of asparagus from Stokes Farm, trimmed and peeled, dotted with butter, from Millport Dairy, salted, roasted at 450º for 15 to 20 minutes, rolled twice during that time, with freshly-mortared black pepper and a sprinkling of lemon juice added at the end
• the wine was a Spanish red, Viña Eguia Rioja 2009
• the music was provided by Q2 streaming

I used to prepare this dish as often as it might occur to either one of us, but the last time must have been before I began this blog, over six years ago.   I’ve had the package of dry orecchiette (‘little ears’) in the cupboard for a few weeks, but it was only last night that I could take advantage of a convergence of this excellent pasta, some spring Greenmarket broccoli rabe, and no dinner plans which could forestall our enjoyment of my favorite version of the Puglian favorite, orecchiette con cime di rapa.

It was as delicious as each of us had remembered.  There was one snag however, although one not related to the taste.  I have the willful habit of wanting to incorporate as much of a vegetable as I can when cooking it, and in this case I would have been better advised to discard some of the rapini stems, or at least remove them and cook them a little longer than the rest of the greens.  I’ve never encountered this problem before with this vegetable, but let’s just say that in a couple of cases last night the larger pieces were more than chewy.  After we finished dinner Barry proffered, “Stems are the gristle of the vegetable world.”.

Twenty-five years ago I discovered the recipe I still use, in the tall volume, ‘Italy, The Beautiful Cookbook’.  The book itself is indeed beautiful, as are the recipes.  It’s also a wonderful tour through a magnificent culture, one with which Barry I paired our actual Italian tours in the years after I acquired the book.

• half a pound of Benedetto Cavalieri ‘Single Orecchiette’ and half a pound of broccoli rabe, bottom stems removed and the rest of the vegetable roughly chopped, boiled together in a large pot until the pasta was al dente, about a ladleful of the pasta water reserved before draining, then tossed into a separate pot in which 3 garlic cloves and half of a dried red chile pepper had been heated until the garlic had colored lightly, everything (including a judicious amount of the reserved pasta water) tossed for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, before being served, sprinkled on top with half of a cup of fresh breadcrumbs browned earlier (this time I used some of a Balthazar Multi-Grain boule), along with a pinch of salt, in a little olive oil
• the wine was an Italian white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2013
• the music was Ernest Chausson’s ‘Poème de l’amour et de la mer‘

Note to self:  You can do this again anytime you want to.

 

I wanted to prepare something simple, and knew I had on hand the makings of something pretty tasty.  I didn’t really know what I was going to put together until I began.  I no longer remember the details, except that this gallimaufry was a one-pan operation, but they aren’t important anyway; I wouldn’t expect or want this dish to unfold the same way every time.

• I only remember that I started with halved German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm (which had begun to sprout ‘eyes’ inside their brown bag), moved through a sliced stem of spring garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, and onto some very fresh eggs from Millport Dairy, finishing with scissored chives from Phillips Farm; oh, and there was some real magic in the form of an excellent cayenne from Spices and Tease in Chelsea Market
• the baby arugula was from Migliorelli Farm
• I believe the dish was accompanied by slices of Balthazar’s Multi-Grain boule
• the wine was a simple southern French sparkling rosé, whose name I don’t know remember