I think if I had to choose to cook and serve but one kind of red meat going forward, I might choose duck breast, and this is a wonderful (and very simple and easy) way to prepare it. I’ve done it many times, usually varying the finishing touches with various herbs, or alliium.  This time I had some winter savory, a good stand-in for the almost-classic rosemary.

• a small duck breast (11 ounces) from Pat LaFrieda at Eataly, the fatty side scored, covered with salt, pepper and a bit of turbinato sugar infused over time with a vanilla bean, then left standing for about half an hour before it was pan-fried, finished with Long Island lemon from Fantastic Gardens in the Union Square Greenamarket, chopped winter savory from Whole Foods, and a bit of olive oil
• collard greens from Rogowski Farm, cut in a rough chiffonade, braised in a heavy pot in which crushed garlic garlic from S. & S.O. Produce Farms had been allowed to sweat with a bit of olive oil, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• boiled German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, boiled in salted water, drained, steamed dry, rolled with a small amount of olive oil, freshly-ground black pepper, and pea sprouts from from Lucky Dog Organic
• the wine was a French red, Anne de Joyeuse Cabernet Sauvignon 2011
• the music was an extraordinary piece, ‘Suikinkutsu’ [water-zither-cave], by ethnomusicologist Steven Feld

Mackerel, Spanish or Boston mackerel, is one of the most beautiful fish in the sea [here, some fillets in full sunlight], whether whole or filleted, and one of the most delicious. It’s a pity so many people avoid it because of the adjective “oily’ that is so casually attached to it, generally with a negative connotation.  But it’s precisely the full flavor and, yes, the oiliness of mackerel and other non-whitefish, like salmon, trout, and tuna (as well as the smaller species, such as anchovies, herring, and sardines), that is prized by others, including myself.  Of course there’s also the health factor, but most people don’t actually eat food counsel.

The secret for enjoying mackerel, or any oily fish, is the same as for any other food is finding the right recipe.  This is just one, and it’s very simple.

• 2-ounce Boston mackerel fillets (a total of 8 for the two of us) from Pura Vida Fisheries, brushed with olive oil and seasoned, pan-grilled briefly over high heat (both sides, skin side down first), then transferred to warm plates and half-covered with a Sicilian-style salsa of halved cherry tomatoes from Toigo Orchards, capers, lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, salt, pepper, and a bit of chopped winer savory from Whole Foods
• a mixture of kale and collard greens from Rogowski Farm, roughly chopped, wilted with olive oil in which one lightly-crushed garlic clove from ‘music garlic’ heads from Migliorelli Farm, cut in two, had been heated, the greens seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish white, CVNE Cuna Monopole Rioja Blanco 2013
• the music was Bach, partitas played by Jeremy Denk

The roots came second in the preparation of this meal, not the usual order for me, but the slow-boiled beef veal tongue that they were to accompany had already been long absorbing the flavors of its broth when it was time to place the vegetables in a hot oven.  The picture above shows them just before that moment, and the picture which follows, of the finished dinner on the plate, was taken almost an hour later.

I love tongue (I’m talking about cooking here).  Most people may think of it as fairly exotic, at the very least.  The fact that it is in the category of ‘offal’, even if the etymology of that word has no relationship to a common like-sounding adjective, doesn’t help its popularity.  If anyone has experienced it at all, it was likely to have been as part of a platter of cold meats, where it might have gone unremarked.

I learned to appreciate it many years ago, as a cold dish and also as a warm entrée.  I was in my 20’s, and already fasciated by the great European cooking traditions, not least those of France and her adopted daughter Julia Child.  I have no interest in consuming really exotic animals, which, to someone still as Eurocentric as I, means anything which would not be found in traditional European kitchens, but I’m game for, well, . . . European game of course, but also offal.

Until this year, my experience with tongue was limited to beef tongue, and that was in my Rhode Island kitchen in the late 60s, 70s and early 80s (my guest-friends back in that era must have thought I was half insane, even before the first of my suckling pig meals).  It was my virtually complete dependence on the Union Square Greenmarket for food sources that recently introduced me to both lamb and veal tongue for the first time.   In almost 30 years I have never seen tongue displayed in the stores in my New York neighborhood, even before it became upscale ; it’s even difficult finding liver, which was always a staple when I was growing up (although it’s possible that offal is finally about to assume its proper place at the upscale meat counter).

I soon learned that if you start looking for a recipe for this cut of meat, or even just some inspiration, you could go on forever.  I jumped on this particular one from Epicurious, for Beef tongue, from May, 2000, because I liked the list of ingredients (and already had them on hand, except for the dill), and, while this may surprise some, it looked pretty straightforward (not too many steps). Since I had a veal tongue a quarter of the weight of the piece specified, I reduced the amounts of the other ingredients accordingly.

Note: After I had removed the tongue, I strained the cooking broth and placed it in a container in the freezer.  I’ll probably use as the basis of a cabbage soup lunch.

• one twelve-ounce veal tongue from Consider Bardwell Farms (a perfect size for two people, as it’s rich, and there are no bones), prepared pretty much by following the recipe alluded to above, using, among others, these fresh ingredients: yellow onion from John D. Madura Farm; ‘music garlic’ cloves from Migliorelli Farm; bay leaf from Whole Foods; shallots from John C. Madura Farms; horseradish from Holy Schmitt’s in the Greenmarket; parsley from Rogowski Farm; local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• a melange of root vegetables, including diced celery root from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sliced parsnips from Migliorelli Farm, turnip from Norwich Meadows farm, a little halved or quartered red and yellow onion from John D. Madura Farm, all tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and sprigs of winter savory from Whole Foods, the savory placed on the bottom of an oven pan, the roots spread on top, everything roasted at 400º, sliced leeks from S. & S.O. Produce Farms added more than half of the way through, the vegetables removed from the oven when tender and golden (about 45 minutes), then tossed with chopped parsley from Rogowski Farm
• the wine was a French red, Château Moneins Haut-Médoc 2010
• the music was, once again, works by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach

While I was inside Eataly to pick up some bread yesterday afternoon, I passed the shop-made fresh pasta showcase where I got carried away with the the shape of this pasta and the sign describing the seasonal filling (well, anticipating the season just a bit) of asparagus.  The rest of the filling was simply ricotta and goat cheese, so I knew I’d be able to ‘sauce’ it with the cherry tomatoes remaining on hand, along with more of my new infatuation, onion tops.

• asparagus, ricotta and goat cheese-filled triangolo di asparagi, tossed with Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slightly-sautéed with sliced garlic and freshly-ground black pepper, the bowls scattered with chopped onion (yellow onion) tops from Phillips Farm
• the wine was a white Italian, Piedmont Wine Project Asinel Bianco 2013 from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was some symphonies of J.C. Bach

Incidentally, there is a short story to the name, ‘Asinel’, and the bottle itself boasts one of the most irresistible wine labels I’ve ever pulled off a shelf:

Hunting and gathering:  I picked up the scallops Monday in the Greenmarket, and I already had some kale, but I also wanted to add something which would both fill out the color palette on the plate and add to the modest amount of the serving, at least psychologically.  I pulled a few tomatoes off of the breakfast room window sill.  The onion tops were totally new to me. When I saw the hand-written sign under the awning of the Phillips Farm stall yesterday I had to check them out (it is still early April, after all), although I already knew there was just no way I was going to be going home without them.

I snap pictures of most of the things I buy at the Greenmarket, usually only to be able to have a record of my sources for the purposes of this blog.  The picture below was one of those snapshot ‘notes’, but I like the sense of place and the pocket drama it suggests, .  Also, this is the first time I’ve ever recorded ‘onion tops’.

• scallops from P.E. & D.D. seafood dried (to ensure grill marks), seasoned and pan-grilled briefly on both sides, finished with a squeeze of juice from a local lemon grown by Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, sliced spring onion tops from Phillips Farm, and olive oil
• three Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, sliced, grilled briefly as the scallops finished cooking, seasoned and sprinkled with chopped fresh oregano from Phillips Farm
• kale from, Rogowski Farm, chopped, wilted with olive oil in which one lightly-crushed garlic clove from Samascott Orchards, cut in two, had been heated, then seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, and drizzled with more olive oil

the wine was a French white, Domaine Paul Buisse Touraine Sauvignon Blanc 2014 from Chelsea Wine Vault

the music was several of Beethoven’s Opus 18 Quartets