grilled eggplant; hammerhead shark; tiny corn; wild tomato

it’s a bucket of hammerhead shark steaks (I’d already picked out mine)

 

I’ve never seen a hammerhead shark steak in the Greenmarket.

In Friday I saw a hammerhead shark steak in the Greenmarket.

That night I cooked the hammerhead shark steak I saw in the Greenmarket.

It was a special occasion, since we were entertaining a friend visiting from Berlin, and I’m pretty sure there are no hammerhead shark steaks in Berlin. I was really intrigued, they looked beautiful, and I couldn’t resist buying some. It didn’t occur to me that I was taking a chance, especially sharing it with company, since I had never cooked hammerhead before, and neither of us had ever even tasted it.

Once home, I couldn’t find anything on line that seemed useful as a cooking suggestion, but something told me I could do worse than just treating it like swordfish, since I had done exactly that 2 years ago with a very different member of the shark family.

Fortunately I hadn’t really looked deeply into what was there on the internet until the next day, when I went back on line to learn more about what we had eaten the night before. It seemed that almost no one had anything good to say about the taste of hammerhead shark, and in fact much of the conversation was pretty frightening, especially when it got into the uric acid thing. One of the more positive comments read, “They are edible if you are starving.”

Well, we weren’t starving, and they were far more than merely edible. Maybe ours was a young one, and maybe the fisherman knew what he was doing. I would say that if there were any shortcomings, it was in its texture, or its dryness, both of which may have been my doing, although hammerhead flesh is described everywhere as meaty and firm. Still, I may have used too high a flame, and/or kept it on the heat a bit too long.

I’m willing to prepare it again, if I ever come across another, but most sharks of any kind appear in markets as a byproduct in a search for other fish, so it may be a while before I get a chance.

The vegetables were stars throughout the meal, and almost as exotic as the hammerhead.

Before we got started that night there was an aperitif.

And also an appetizer.

  • ten or 12 Japanese eggplant (or possibly ‘orient charm’ Chinese eggplant?) from Alewife Farm, each halved horizontally, brushed on all sides with a mixture of a little olive oil, 2 or more finely-chopped rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled on a seasoned, large double burner-size cast iron ribbed pan over a brisk flame, turning once or twice, sprinkled with chopped spearmint from Keith’s Farm, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, arranged on a serving platter with some pitted kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, and garnished with more torn mint
  • slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
  • the wine was a Spanish (Catalonia/Terra Alta) white, áureo by Joseph Puig (100% Macabeo/Viura/Macabeu), the gift of our guest

The shark was just about the easiest part of the meal to prepare, once I had decided to treat it more or less like swordfish steak, using the same recipe I had sought out when I had cooked mako shark 2 years ago.

For the curious, or the ambitious, this is a pretty good video demonstrating how to fillet, maybe a 5-foot long hammerhead shark (it’s probably best to have a garage if you’re going to try it yourself).

  • three 7-ounce thick (1 3/4″) hammerhead shark steaks from Pura Vida Seafood, rubbed with a mixture of fresh herbs (parsley, lovage, spearmint, and sage from Keith’s Farm; dill buds from Willow Wisp Farm; tender rosemary from Lani’s Farm; summer savory, from Stokes Farm), all chopped together with sea salt, some freshly-crushed black pepper and a large rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, some zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, with a bit of olive oil to moisten the mix, most of it spread onto the surface of the fish before it was pan-grilled, basted throughout the cooking process with some of the reserved mixture, removed, ideally, while barely fully cooked in the center [I had gone a little further in this case; I blame it on my huge social distractions], arranged on the plates, finished with a squeeze of the lemon used for the zest and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with bronze micro fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, served with lemon quarters
  • twelve ears of shucked baby bicolor corn from Alewife Farm, sautéed inside a large heavy vintage oval copper skillet in which a little butter and a little less olive oil had been heated until quite hot, sprinkled with Maldon salt, black pepper, and a little chopped aji dulce pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, finished with fresh chives from S. & S.O. Farm
  • some tiny ‘wild’ tomatoes (‘Matt’s Wild Cherry’?) from Windfall Farms, warmed in a little olive oil inside a small vintage Pyrex skillet, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with dill blossoms from Willow Wisp Farms, arranged on the plates on top of some local Bowery Farm arugula from Foragers Market dressed with olive oil , lemon, salt, and pepper
  • the wine was a  wonderful Spanish (Galicia) white, Valdesil, Godello Sobre Lias, 2015, from Flatiron Wines

There was a dessert, basically the classic American ‘cake and ice cream’.

  • an scoop of delicious Old Mother Hubbert Dairy lemon basil gelato (ingredients: non fat dry milk, lemon juice, orange juice, fresh basil, lemon zest), produced at the Back to the Future Farm, near Middletown, NY, that I had picked up at Rose Hubbert‘s stand at the Union Square Greenmarket, resting on top of a slice of sour cream cheesecake from Bread Alone, also purchased in the Greenmarket

penne rigatoni with celery, aji, heirloom tomato, chives

It’s a beautiful simple dish, and like most pasta marriages, the flavors slowly mature and improve as it’s consumed.

  • more than a handful of thinly-sliced celery stalks from Neversink Organic Farm sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided copper pot over a medium flame until they had softened, one finely-chopped aji dulce pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm added near the end, then one large, orange roughly-chopped heirloom tomato, also from Eckerton Hill Farm, slipped in, everything seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, a decent amount of chopped celery leaves introduced and the pot stirred a bit before 10 ounces of al dente-cooked Setaro Torre Annunziata penne rigatoni were mixed in, along with nearly a cup of reserved pasta water, all stirred again until the liquid had emulsified, the pasta now arranged in 2 shallow bowls and sprinkled with more celery leaves and a generous amount of chopped chives from S. & S.O. Farms, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges
  • the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) rosé, Castell’ in Villa, Toscana Rosato, 2017, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was the Brooklyn Rider album, ‘Seven Steps’

pig’s face roulade; picanha, rosemary; peppers; tomato

There were going to be three of us for dinner, as we were entertaining a favorite relative. I wanted the meal to be special, but it wasn’t a market day, so there wouldn’t be fish. I also wanted to be able to visit without any major cooking distractions, so I thought of steak. One of my favorite away-from-the-Union Square Greenmarket butcher shops is Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats, in Chelsea Market, only some 8 blocks away.

That’s were I headed Tuesday afternoon and that’s where I picked up 3 small perfect culotte steaks.

It’s also where I found our first course for that evening, conveniently already fully prepared, a luscious charcuterie I had never had before, pig’s face roulade (It. coppa di testa). It almost immediately became my favorite, at least until another comes along. This site isn’t that of the charcuterie folks from whom I purchased ours, but there are directions for anyone interested in learning more about pigs head, including how to prepare your own.

We began with bread sticks and a sparkling wine.

The goodness of the first course surprised even me, and I had enjoyed a taste while still in the butcher shop.

The vegetables of the main course could be prepared, mostly, ahead of time, and that’s what I did. The steaks of course took only a few minutes, and fortunately for the company they kept any ideas they might have had about smoking up the kitchen entirely to themselves.

  • three very trim 7-ounce culotte/picanha steaks, also from Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared briefly on the thick, fat-covered top side inside an oval enameled heavy cast iron pan, the 2 long sides cooked for 3 or 4 minutes each, removed from the pan, at the moment they had become perfectly medium-rare, drizzled with some heirloom tomato waters that remained from 2 recent meals, scattered with a bit of thinly-sliced red scallion from Berried Treasures Farm, sprinkled with a bit of chopped young, very fresh and fragrant rosemary from Lani’s Farm, finished with a drizzle of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and allowed to rest for about 4 minutes
  • enough olive oil to cover its bottom poured into a large sturdy seasoned steel skillet above a high flame, adding, just before the oil was ready to smoke, skin side down and not crowding, 13 ounces of very sweet ‘Love Apple’ red peppers from Alewife Farm, halved, the few seeds and membranes removed, sprinkled with salt, a heavy weight (a foil-covered cast iron skillet slightly-smaller than the pan with the peppers) placed on top of them for 30 seconds or so, removed, the peppers moved around with tongs to blister them evenly, and once well blistered, flipped or arranged skin side up, the weighted pan added again for another 30 seconds or more, until the peppers were just about cooked, but not too limp, then stirring in all of the basil leaves I had left from a Massachusetts Full Bloom Market Garden live plant (a Whole Foods Market purchase), and less than a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar
  • six small green heirloom plum tomatoes from Campo Rosso Farm, halved, their surfaces dried, the cut sides placed on top of a mix of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper spread across a plate, pan-grilled inside an enameled cast iron pan for a few minutes, turned and grilled for a slightly shorter time, removed, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) red, La Rioja Alta, Rioja Reserva ‘Vigna Alberdi’, 2012, also from Flatiron Wines

crab cakes, tomato/beet salsa; herb/spice-dressed labneh

I knew there would be crab cakes, but everything else was pretty much thrown together minutes before we sat down.

It was a greenmarket day, and therefore a fish day at our place, but I didn’t really need anything other than seafood, and I remembered that I had some really terrific frozen crab cakes that were made at home by Delores Karlin, the wife of the fisherman, Phil, whose stand would be there that Monday. I resolved to try to buy more the next week.

Early in the evening I decided that the labneh that I had also picked up in Union Square on an earlier market day, would make a great base for a sympathetic savory accompaniment to the crab cakes I would be serving on a bed of tomato salsa [that is, a mostly tomato salsa].

I tweeted that evening that the fact our “more or less middle eastern dinner” included crab narrowed down its cultural antecedents, since observant jews and at least most Shia Muslims avoid shellfish, or at least crab.  But I think it’s safe to say, at the very least, this dinner might not look too out of place on some Lebanese or Greek tables.

Both labneh topping and the salsa ‘bottoming’ each ended up with a few unorthodox ingredients.

  • two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), defrosted earlier in the day, heated with a drizzle of olive oil inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa composed of one large chopped green heirloom tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm, some small raw chopped sweet Badger Flame beets from Norwich Meadows Farm (they’re the bits that appear to be carrots in the picture), a little finely-chopped aji dulce pepper, olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, crab cakes and salsa garnished with micro red amaranth
  • a serving of plain water buffalo milk labneh from Riverine Ranch, leaving a shallow depression to receive a bit of a very good Sicilian olive oil, from Agricento, Azienda Agricola Mandranova (made exclusively with Nocellara olives), a bit of a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk, finely sliced segment of red scallion from Berried Treasures Farm, the chopped stem of a baby purple romaine lettuce stem from from Echo Creek Farm, found in the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market, garnished with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm and arranged with the last leaves from that same lettuce stem, which were dressed with Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, drops of juice from a Whole Foods Market lemon, and a bit of the same Sicilian olive oil
  • Damascus Bakery flax and chia pita bread from the Chelsea Foragers Market, heated in the cast iron pan used for the crab cakes
  • the wine was a Washington (Columbia Valley) white, Dave Harvey Columbia Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘Alexander Goehr: Symmetry Disorders Reach’

duck breast, rosemary; peppers, basil, balsamic; amaranth

Could this actually be ‘seafood’? We eat a lot of fish, but last night’s entrée didn’t fall into that slot, unless we’re thinking of a position adopted, ounce, twice, or more, by the very clever prelates of the Roman church (cf. duck breast, grilled heirloom tomato, wilted lacinato, garlic).

A few notes about the cooking itself:

  1. I think we both agreed that it was one of the simplest and most delicious presentations of a duck dinner, ever, and we love duck, a lot. And juicy; everything was juicy.
  2. This time around the flame under the pan in which the breast was cooked was set higher than I had intended, but it doesn’t seem to matter how carbonized the layer of fat is, it never tastes burnt or bitter.
  3. The rest of the dinner was very much about peppers: Both of the kinds used in the side dish were really, really good.
  4. I didn’t need a garnish in either the duck or the peppers but I had this beautiful little container of red micro ‘greens’ that weren’t going to last forever, and I thought a few of them would perk up the plate visually; I’d say they did.
  • one 16-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, then left standing, first inside the refrigerator and later on the counter for about 45 minutes  altogether, pan-fried, fatty side down first, in a scant amount of olive oil inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat (ideally) for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat to be strained and used in cooking at another time, if desired), removed when medium rare, cutting crosswise into 2 portions and checking that the center was of the right doneness, which means definitely no more than medium rare, and maybe even a bit less, left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with a bit of chopped young and very fresh and fragrant rosemary from Lani’s Farm and a little Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market, finished on the plates garnished with micro mustard greens from Windfall Farms

The meal was about peppers as much as it was about that delicious winged amphibian.

  • enough olive oil to cover its bottom poured into a large sturdy seasoned steel skillet above a high flame, adding, just before the oil was ready to smoke, skin side down and not crowding, one basket (11 ounces) of some very sweet ‘Yummy’ peppers (that’s actually their varietal name) from Central Valley Farm, cut into halves, the few seeds and membranes removed, the peppers sprinkled with salt, a heavy weight (here a slightly-smaller foil-covered cast iron skillet) placed on top of them for 30 seconds or so, removed, the peppers moved around with tongs to blister them evenly, and once well blistered, flipped or arranged skin side up, the weighted pan added again for another 30 seconds to a minute, until the peppers were just about cooked, but not too limp, and then 2 small red Aji Dulce peppers (they’re beautifully spicy, but not at all hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm, were added and moved around until softened, followed by stirring in the equivalent of 4 average size whole basil leaves from a Massachusetts Full Bloom Market Garden live plant (a Whole Foods Market purchase), and less than a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, the peppers arranged on the plate across from the duck, and a small treasure of micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge arranged just above it
  • slices of that terrific, I’d say now iconic, miche of She Wolf Bakery, for the appreciation of both the plate juices and one of the best breads I’ve ever had
  • the wine was a California (Alexander Valley) red, DRG Daryl Groom Cabernet Sauvignon Alexander Valley 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘Ingram Marshall: September Canons’

broiled ocean perch, alliums, aji, anchovy; tomato, basil

Summer perch.

Last night I decided it might actually be a thing. I think what did for me it were the luscious ripe heirloom tomatoes I chose as the only accompaniment for this wonderful fish.

  • nine small (less than 2 ounces each) beautiful orange/red-skinned ocean perch fillets from Danielle Bickleman at American Seafood Company’s stand at Saturday’s Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, rinsed, and dried, both sides brushed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with a total of little more than one teaspoon, combined, of a chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and the white section of one thinly-sliced scallion from Lani’s Farm, the fish seasoned, also on both sides, with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside an enameled cast iron pan and broiled, skin side up, 4 or 5 inches from the flames, for 4 or 5 minutes, or until the skin had become crisp and the fish cooked through, finished on the plates with a sauce that had already been prepared by gently heating 2 salted anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, and part of one aji dulce pepper (NOTE: I don’t think the pepper, an innovation of mine this time around, really added anything) in a bit of olive oil inside a small antique enameled cast iron porringer over a very low flame for about 3 minutes, or until the anchovies had fallen apart, and then kept warm, the perch garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge and organic lemon wedges from Whole Foods Market served on the side

  • two large very ripe red heirloom tomatoes from Campo Rosso Farm (the ones on the right above), sliced 1/4″ thick, slid into a medium size copper skillet in which some olive oil had been heating and softening some thickly-sliced sections of a bulbous fresh shallot from Tamarack Hollow Farm, allowed to warm and also soften just a bit, seasoend with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, a number of leaves torn from an almost local  basil plant (Full Bloom Market Garden, Whatley, Massachusetts, from Whole Foods Market), still proudly flourishing in its rich Connecticut River valley soil, mixed in with the tomatoes, carefully arranged on the plates, some of the juices reserved for another day, and sprinkled with a pinch or so of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (that had also been purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market),
  • slices of a very satisfying rich organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
  • the wine was a California (Central Coast) rosé, Yian Lu Central Coast Rose 2017, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Haydn’s 1777 opera, ‘Il mondo della Luna’, a wonderful opera which we’ve probably heard all the way through half a dozen times, in a great, classic performance with Antal Dorati directing the Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne and the soloists Arleen Auger, Edith Mathis, Frederica von Stade, Lucia Valentini Terrani, Luigi Alva, et al.

There was neither a cheese course nor a sweet, but there was ein Schlückchen Schnaps. After the table had been cleared, we decided to remain sitting through the end of the opera. We each poured ourselves a little bit of a superb Oregon eau de vie.  It was Clear Creek Distillery’s Douglas Fir Brandy, inspired by the Alsatian, Eau de Vie de Bourgeons de Sapin [clear brandy of fir buds]. A 2009 New York Times piece, ‘The Pursuit and Pleasures of the Pure Spirit‘, provides the context for the inspiration and production of the distillery’s founder, Steve McCarthy.

simple sautéed soft shell crab; haricot vert; grilled tomato

I had never cooked soft shell crab before, or, if I had, I no longer remember having done so, and it would have to have been decades ago.

I’m pretty happy about my first outing (or, as it may be, my second).

I spotted a bucket of live blue crab (Callinectes sapidus) in my Friday fish stand in the Union Square Greenmarket. They were waving at me. I just had to bring them home, especially since it was the first time I had ever seen them in that market.

My first concern, since they were quite alive, was, how to clean them. The internet came to my rescue once again; Marylander Stacey Williamson’s short video is the best description I found; it’s charming, perfectly clear, and reassuring.

For actual cooking guidance, I found the input from both Mark Bittman and Melissa Clark very useful, and I ended up going with the simplest version described by each.

  • four very much alive 4 or 5-ounce eastern Long Island soft shell crabs from Anton, Paul Mendelsohn’s son, at Paul’s Pura Vida Seafood station at the Union Square Greenmarket, cleaned as described above, but without removing the ‘mustard’, or digestive system (because it tastes wonderful!), rinsed in running water and dried very thoroughly (so they don’t ‘steam’ and so to encourage crispness, since 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 cast iron pan (I wasn’t timing myself, but maybe for about 3 minutes altogether? Anyway, Clark writes, “As soon as they turn from gray-brown to rust and white, the texture goes from soft to taut and they are ready.”), removed and arranged on the 2 plates, sprinkled with freshly-chopped lovage, from Chris at Keith’s Farm in the Greenmarket and, although I forgot to do so this time, some freshly ground black pepper (I don’t remember adding salt at any time during the cooking process, but then my memory is sometimes unreliable), and drizzled with juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market

  • seven ounces of haricots verts from Berried Treasures 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 until the flame was turned on under the pan in which the crab would 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 dill buds from Willow Wisp Farm

maccheroncini with romanesco, micro red amaranth

It’s was a gorgeous bowl of pasta, and as tasty as it looked. The original recipe is from Sara Jenkins.

seared whiting on a basil vinaigrette; sautéed pepper mix

The kitchen was in chaos only moments before I snapped this picture.

I had to do some unexpected trimming of the 2 fish filets (brought home as butterflied wholes) and then change my plans on how I was going to cook it, both at the last moment, and it was already late in the evening.

I did some quick thinking, which unfortunately did not include a plan for keeping the kitchen and dining area from getting pretty smoky, decided on a relatively carefree vegetable and treatment of that vegetable, then whipped out my large steel oval fish pan.

The peppers were scrumptious, even if I didn’t have time to prepare the herb I had wanted to use with them, and instead tossed in a bit of one that remained from breakfast the day before.

The whiting was delicious, even if most of the crispy skin I was aiming for stayed in the pan. I think whiting may not be the ideal candidate for this operation, or else I hadn’t succeeded in drying the skin enough. The vinaigrette on which it rested was a brilliant way to appreciate the flavor of the fish (and the texture of the skin as well, if all had gone better last night).

  • two butterflied whiting filets (20 ounces total, before trimming) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, washed, drained, trimmed of the remains of their fins, each then separated into 2 filets, since their wholeness had now been compromised by that operation, prepared mostly along the lines of this recipe, seared inside a very hot well-seasoned steel pan, resting on a lemon-basil vinaigrette prepared more or less like this one, and garnished, somewhat exuberantly, with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge

  • a number of sweet ‘Bulls Horn’ yellow-green peppers and very sweet ‘Love Apple’ red peppers from Alewife Farm, each cut once lengthwise, the seeds and membranes removed, sautéed over a high flame until slightly caramelized, and one sliced red scallion from Berried Treasures Farm, a finely chopped small Aji Dulce pepper (not hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm, a small chopped section from a serrano pepper (hot) from Central Valley Farm, and a pinch of crushed dried golden/orange habanada pepper (pungent, but not hot at all) added near the end, the mix tossed with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper and sprinkled with some budding marjoram from Stokes Farm, arranged on the plates and served with a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lodi, I think) white, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2017, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Rameau’s 1749 pastorale héroïque, ‘Naïs’, Gyorgy Vashegyi conducting the Purcell Choir and the Orfeo Orchestra

lemon pork chop; beet/lettuce/horseradish salad; cheese

Look, no tomatoes!

They’ve been a part of virtually every meal this month, and the last, but it didn’t occur to me to include them last night. I was thinking we’d have a cheese course later, and I wanted to keep the entrée down to 2 elements; I knew there would be some color even without tomatoes; and I thought that the lettuce I would be including, plus a micro green, would add a sufficient element of freshness themselves.

And yet there was tomato, although only as a very subtle addition to the self sauce created by the pork.

I love both this special vegetable, and the pork, as well as the recipes I used for each, but the entire entrée was even more successful than I had expected. In the case of the chops, the simple addition of even the small amount of rendered heirloom tomato juices I had, remaining from an earlier meal, may have made all the difference.

The beets were an extraordinary new sweet variety we’ve enjoyed before, using the same recipe, and even though I ended up roasting them longer than I wanted to, they were still delicious. Horseradish is a blessed thing.

  • two 8-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper and seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before the 2 halves of a small Whole Foods Market organic lemon was squeezed over the top (then left in the pan between them, cut sides down), the chops placed in a 425º oven for less than 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon halves squeezed over them once again and replaced), removed from the oven and arranged on plates, some of the pan juices, that had been mixed with tomato juices inside a heavy glass sauce boat, spooned over the top, the sauce boat placed on the table to be available during the meal, the pork garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a number (but less than a pound) of not-very-large ‘Badger Flame’ beets from Norwich Meadows Farm [more here] trimmed, washed and scrubbed, cut into wedges, tossed in a bowl with roughly 2 tablespoons of olive oil; 3 halved cloves of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm (I should have kept them unpeeled), a generous amount of oregano buds from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground pepper to taste, covered loosely with foil and baked for 20 minutes or so inside a 400º oven, after which the foil was taken off, the beets turned on another side and roasted for 25 minutes longer, or until they were tender, when they were removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates on top of the well-washed outer leaves of a head of purple romaine lettuce from from Echo Creek Farm of Salem, NY, in the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market (on the north sidewalk of 23rd Street, between 8th and 9th Avenues), a little olive oil and drops of a good Spanish Rioja vinegar drizzled on the beet segments and the lettuce, but with the greens also sprinkled with salt and pepper, the beet salad finished with some horseradish root from Gorzynski Ornery Farm freshly grated on top [note that the recipe mostly follows one on page 36 inside the hard copy of the excellent book of simple kitchen formulae, ‘Italian Easy’; Recipes from the London River Cafe‘]

There was a cheese course, which I did not photograph

  • ‘Pawlet’ cow cheese and ‘Manchester’ goat cheese, both from Consider Bardwell Farm, and Riverine Ranch buffalo milk brie
  • a mix of several kinds of raisins (colors and sizes) from Trader joe’s Market
  • thin toasts of a sturdy She Wolf Bakery sourdough ‘miche’