fennel tuna, amaranth; potatoes, bronze fennel; collards

This meal followed something of a routine: Each of the 3 main elements was modeled on a preparation I’ve done many times before. Most of the details however were new.

I neglected to get a picture of the deeply-serious-looking bronze fennel while it was still at the market stall earlier in the day, but here’s a shot of the beautiful micro red amaranth that embellished the swordfish last night.

There’s a little more to that story: I had intended to accompany the potatoes with the amaranth and arrange the fennel fronds around the fish, but I inadvertently reversed that arrangement in my rush to dress the plates for the table. I’m not sure it really made any difference.

I did however capture the chives, which made it onto the potatoes even prior to the fennel, before I left the market.

  • one 13-ounce yellowfin tuna steak off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, from Pura Vida Seafood, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, pan-grilled above a brisk flame (for barely a minute on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some olive oil, served with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms

  • six Nicola potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm scrubbed and boiled, with their skins, inside a medium vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the still-warm pot, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and scissored chives from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, garnished with bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm

  • one bunch of collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, the larger leaves stemmed, cut as a rough chiffonade, then braised inside a heavy antique high-sided, tin-lined copper pot in which 3 small crushed Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) white, Quinta Dos Roques Encruzado 2015, from Garnet Wines
  • the music was a streaming of the terrific sort-of-old album (I think I bought the LP in 1990), ‘Points of Departure‘,  the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra performing works by Fred Lerdahl: ‘Waves’ (1988); Jacob Druckman: ‘Nor Spell Nor Charm’ (1990); WIlliam Bolcom: ‘Orphee-Serenade’ (1984); and Michael James Gandolfi: ‘Points of Departure’ (1988)

salchichón Ibérico, cress; fettuccine with sorrel and pinoli

The salumi course incorporated 3 different national traditions, but it still looked Italian.

  • two ounces of Fermin Salchichón Ibérico dry-cured sausage from the Chelsea Foragers Market, made from the ‘pata negro’ breed of pig (Iberico pork, salt, nutmeg, black pepper, white pepper, plus seasoning which consisted of sugar, trisodium citrate, sodium nitrate, and potassium nitrate), drizzled with a bit of Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend
  • wild cress from Lani’s Farm, dressed with more of the olive oil, a bit of Maldon salt, and some freshly-chopped black pepper
  • slices of an organic sourdough baguette from Bread Alone

The pasta was something of a highbrid as well, although it too looked more Italian than anything else.

The Italian for red-veined sorrel? I think its ‘acetosa venata di rosso‘, if you can find it.

  • two handfuls of red-veined sorrel leaves from Lani’s Farm, roughly chopped, folded into 3 ounces of softened Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, along with more than a teaspoon of juice and the same amount of zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, scraped onto a sheet of plastic wrap or wax paper, rolled into a log and placed inside the refrigerator until ready for use to initiate a sauce once 12 ounces of fresh pasta had been cooked al dente and drained (specifically, a fettuccine from Raffetto’s of New York City, whose ingredients are only durum flour, whole fresh eggs, and water, purchased at the Chelsea Foragers Market), the sorrel butter placed over a low flame inside a large antique tin-lined copper pot to melt, the pasta added, and then most of 2 ounces of toasted pine nuts as well, everything mixed well before the pasta was slipped into 2 bowls, sprinkled with the remaining pinoli, and garnished with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano Hombre from Whole Foods Market [I forgot to add a garnish of an ounce of micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms I had planned to include]

marinated, breaded, swordfish; grilled tomatoes; rapini

It all tasted as good as it looks.

The swordfish had been very well cared for, and could not have tasted more fresh, regardless of how far the boat had swum since landing it somewhere south of Long Island.

The tomatoes were grown indoors in Maine, in late winter, early spring, but, as usual, they tasted like they had been outside in the summer.

The greens were described by the local farmer as “overwintered”; they could not have been more tender or tasted any sweeter

  • one thick 13.5-ounce swordfish steak from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, taken from Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, halved (I’m getting really good at that), marinated for more than half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, a tablespoon of fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, a small amount of crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, and a chopped section of a Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, drained well, covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 or 5 minutes on each side, or until barely fully cooked all of the way through, removed, seasoned with a little sea salt, a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed on top, drizzled with a little olive oil and garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • three Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, sprinkled with a small amount of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, briefly placed inside the grill pan just as the swordfish were finishing, arranged on the plates and garnished with chopped thyme from Eataly
  • small clusters of overwintered broccoli rabe” (aka rapini) from Lani’s Farm, wilted in olive oil flavored with one small whole dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia and 2 Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm which had been bruised and heated until beginning to color, then seasoned with salt and pepper, divided onto the plates and drizzled with more olive oil
  • the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Catarratto ‘Vigna del Masso’ Feudo Montoni 2016, from Astor Wines  
  • the music was Luigi/Louis Cherubini’s 1791 comédie héroïque, ‘Lodoiska’, Jérémie Rhorer conducting Le Cercle de l’Harmonie and Les Elements Chamber Choir [the composer‘s story and that of the opera are both fascinating: particularly in an era when the world is once again being turned upside down: Cherubini survived, and prospered from the time he was taken up by the Bourbon court in the late 1780s (yeah) as an emigrant, through the Revolution, the Directorate, the Empire, the Restoration, and the July Revolution; the opera premiered 26 days after the royal family, some of whom were his most important patrons, was arrested and escorted back to Paris from Varennes (the theater, until that month named Théâtre de Monsieur, for the king’s brother, was renamed Théâtre Feydeau after the arrest); the best part of the Wikipedia entry: “In a spectacular scene that helped to make the opera a hit in Paris, one of the castle walls is blown up, then crumbles to reveal the battlefield outside.”]

sautéed porgy, tomato-olive-herb salsa; choy sum, alliums

The fish was superb, delicious and perfectly cooked (yay, the skin was even crispy this time), as was the salsa, but while the vegetable was also delicious, one look at the rather stiff green stems in the picture above should be enough to show the choy sum wasn’t properly cooked. The next time I prepare it I’ll pull aside the larger stems and spend some time breaking down their fiber (slicing them smaller, par-boiling them, or cooking them a bit before the rest of the vegetable was added to the pan).

The fish were absolutely beautiful throughout. I mostly followed a simple Gordon Ramsay recipe in preparing it.

  • a salsa prepared by heating 3 tablespoons of a Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market inside a small vintage Corning  Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot pot over a gentle flame, adding 5 ounces of sliced Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market and 2 ounces or so of pitted whole kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, seasoning the mix with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, stirring for a minute or 2, the pan set aside to cool a little, and some fresh lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge and an equal amount of fresh oregano leaves from Stokes Farm (several tablespoons altogether) were chopped and, reserving some of the herbs for garnish, stirred into the salsa, the juice of half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market added and the salsa stirred once again, and set aside while the fish was prepared
  • four 4-ounce porgy fillets from P.E & D.D. Seafood, their skin slashed with a very sharp knife in 2 or 3 places each, placed, skin side down, in a little very hot olive oil inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan sitting over a high flame, the flesh side of the fish seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, cooked for 2 or 3 minutes until the flesh was dark golden and the skin crisp’, the fillets turned over, cooked on the other side for 1 minute, basting with the oil in the pan, if any, until the fillets were just cooked through, arranged on the plates, the salsa drizzled around them, sprinkled with some of the reserved herbs and garnished with bronze micro fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • Yu Choy Sum from Lani’s Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, washed, trimmed and very roughly chopped, added gradually to a heavy, antique, large high-sided tin-lined copper pot, in which 2 Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been heated in  a little Portuguese olive oil until they had begun to color, the greens stirred until tender [not tender enough this time, as some tough stems revealed later], seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, scattered with scissored chives from Phillips Farms and chopped spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm, finished on the plates drizzled with a little more olive oil

culotte steak; red onion-rosemary-roast potatoes; mizuna

The beef was kinda purple-y, and so were the two vegetables, but the real story was how really, really good everything tasted.

In fact I think we both can say the potatoes especially were just about the best we’d ever had.

  • *one 16-ounce culotte (the American spelling) steak from Greg and Mike of Sun Fed Beef/Maple Avenue Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket, cut crosswise into 2 pieces, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared briefly on the top, or thick, fat-covered side (much of the fat is rendered in the cooking, and the rest just makes it it taste wonderful), inside an oval enameled cast iron pan, then cooked for about 4 minutes on each side, to rare-to-medium-rare, after which the narrow bottom side was seared briefly, removed from the pan, placed on warm plates, drizzled with juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon and some decent olive oil, sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and allowed to rest for about 4 minutes
  • *one pound of so of Peter Wilcox potatoes (purple skin, golden flesh) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, skins left on, halved, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from Phillips Farms, arranged, cut side down, on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 350º-375º for about 30 minutes, garnished with Micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a couple handfuls of purple mizuna from Campo Rosso Farm, slightly wilted in a little Portuguese olive oil heated inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little more olive oil
  • *the wine was an absolutely terrific Portuguese (Douro) red, Quinta de Cidrô Touriga Nacional 2014, purchased in the Porto duty free shop last year
  • *the music was Camille Saint-Saëns’ grand opera in 3 acts and 4 scenes, ‘Samson et Dalila’, which was completed in 1874 and premiered in Weimar in 1877, in a performance with Daniel Barenboim conducting the Orchestre de Paris and the Choeurs de l’Orchestre de Paris

prosciutto; squid ink pasta, spring garlic, tomato, oregano

The meat course preceded the somewhat-fish course last night.

  • three ounces of some really good La Quercia Ridgetop Prosciutto, from Whole Foods Market, drizzled with a bit of Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend
  • arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with the same oil, a bit of organic Whole Foods Market lemon juice, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
  • slices of a She Wolf Bakery sourdough bâtard

The pasta, a squid ink spaghetti, contained no other reference to seafood, except in the kind of ingredients that went into its simple sauce.

  • two slightly-squished Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves heated in a little Portuguese olive oil inside an antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until they had begun to color, a bit of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia added, plus slices of one spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm and half a dozen sliced Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, the contents stirred a little before half a pound of squid ink pasta (Neapolitan Pastificio F.lli Setaro spaghetti al nero di seppia) that had just finished cooking was added, the mix stirred again, with some reserved pasta cooking water, until the liquids had emulsified, sprinkled with fresh chopped oregano from Stokes Farm, and arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, where some olive oil was poured around the edges, finished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the wine was an Italian (Lazio) white, Monastero Suore Cistercensi (Bea), Lazio Bianco ‘Coenobium’ 2016, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was by the Finnish composer Väinö Raitio (1891-1945), an early-20th-century pioneer composer of Finnish modernism, although still almost unpublished and unrecorded even today, his Piano Quintet in C sharp minor, op. 16, heard streaming on Yle Klassinen

roasted monkfish with potatoes, olives, laurel; bok choy

I had thought about presenting a very different monkfish dish tonight, but it was one that would have required a bit of dexterity. For that same reason, as I was feeling a bit under the weather with a bad cold, I fell back onto an old standby that’s always pleased.

Monkfish is the delicacy the French know as Lotte, the Italians as Coda di rospo, the Spanish as Cola de Rape, and the Germans as Seeteufel. The English call it Anglerfish, which in fact, I would say, is pretty much what it is.

Probably our happiest experience with this great fish was in northern Spain, on a visit over a decade ago.

The species has only recently developed a following on this side of the Atlantic, due, I think, mostly on account of its repellent visage.

 

There was nothing frightening however about the potatoes or the vegetables.

  • two monkfish tails (a total of 22 ounces) from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, and cut into four pieces, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted at 400º for 12 minutes with three fourths of a cup of a mixture of Gaeta and black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia, pits removed, placed on top of a bed consisting of a full pound of very thinly-sliced unpeeled Nicola potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm that had been scrubbed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and roasted beforehand for about 40 minutes in a very generous amount of olive oil (1/4 of a cup) with 13 dry Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia, and a pinch or so of crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper inside a large enameled cast iron pan (the potatoes having been removed when they had softened and their edges had begun to crisp)
  • one washed and trimmed bunch of a sweet baby bok choy from Tamarack Hollow Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, added gradually to a tablespoon or more of warmed Portuguese olive oil inside a heavy vintage large high-sided tin-lined copper pot, the choy stirred until tender while introducing some of the water which they had shed that was left in the bowl after they had been washed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, scattered with one washed, dried, cut green garlic from John D. Madura Farm, finished on the plates drizzled with more olive oil
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporão Reserva White 2016
  • the music was Jean Philippe Rameau’s 1748 Paris one-act acte de ballet, ‘Pygmalion’, performed by James Richman and the Concert Royal Orchestra & Chorus

 

[the anglerfish image is from Wikipedia]

garlic/oregano/lemon John Dory; potatoes, chives; lacinato

I’m regularly reminded of how delicious this fish is, and last night I also re-learned how easy it is to prepare well.

The vegetables were equally delicious, and just as easy to cook; I simply boiled 2 kinds of potatoes:

And wilted some tender cavolo nero, every leaf I found in the farmer’s wicker basket that afternoon:

  • two 6-ounce John Dory Fillets from American Seafood Company, the last of them to be found inside the fisher’s bucket, earlier that afternoon in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated inside the refrigerator for about 25 minutes in a mix of one clove of Rocambole crushed garlic from Keith’s Farm, more than a teaspoon of chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, the juice and zest from roughly a quarter of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, more than half a teaspoon of good walnut oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the refrigerator and allowed to come to room temperature for about 15 minutes or more, placed skin-side down inside a large antique, heavy, tin-lined oval copper skillet that had been heated over medium-high heat with enough olive oil to coat the surface, the heat immediately reduced slightly, flipped after 2 -3 minutes and cooked for just about 2 minutes more, removed and arranged on warm plates, whatever juices remained in the pan poured over the fillets, and sprinkled with a bit of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • two kinds of potatoes, 3 ‘Peter Wilcox’ cultivars (purple skin, golden flesh) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, and 2 ‘Ruby Cresent’ fingerlings (waxy) from Rick Bishop’s Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, scrubbed, boiled together, unpeeled, in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed there with a bit of Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with  scissored fresh chives from Phillips Farm
  • tender small leaves of cavolo nero, lacinato, Tuscan kale, or black kale, their stems left intact because of their size and youth, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sautéed until wilted inside a large high-sided antique tin-lined copper pot in which 2 halved Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves had first been heated in a tablespoon or so of Portuguese olive oil until beginning to color, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and drizzled with a little more olive oil
  • slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
  • the wine was a Spanish (Valencia) white, Celler del Roure ‘Cullerot’ Blanco 2016, amphora aged, from Astor Wines
  • the music was an album of Leopold Koželuch symphonies from the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Marek Štilec conducting the Czech Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra, Pardubice  (more here)

duck sausage, balsamic cherry; cress; roast carrots, chives

It wasn’t a great meal, but it was pretty good, and it included 2 elements never before seen on these pages: Something called ‘duck rillettes sausage’ (the farm describes it as ‘shredded duck confit sausage’) and a balsamic dried cherry thyme compote.

Rather than pan-grilling the sausage, I should probably have fried the links in a heavy pan, at a lower flame. They were uncooked, but they weren’t pork, so I probably left them on the grill pan too long, compromising a full appreciation of the flavors, which included vegetables and spices.

  • four duck rillettes sausages (17 ounces) from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, pan-grilled for a few minutes
  • served with 2 condiments: a thick compote made by heating together an ounce of balsamic vinegar, and ounce of dried cherries, an ounce of turbinado sugar, and a sprig of thyme from Eataly, reduced until the cherries were plump and the liquid syrupy; and a Maille ‘Old Style’ whole-grain Dijon mustard, which arrived on the plate at the other end of the sausages in the image at the top, only after the photo was taken.
  • wild cress from Lani’s Farm, dressed with Farnkies olive oil, a drizzle of Whoile Foods organic lemon, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper

There were also some over-wintered carrots, and it was now early spring. I had purchased them almost 2 weeks earlier, in fact; they had been waiting in the crisper. All of which meant that it was pretty remarkable that they were so tasty last night.

baked salmon, lovage, micro scallion; celeriac frites; greens

The entire meal was much more successful than I had expected while I was still putting it together in my head little than an hour earlier.

It all started with the salmon fillet, which I had bought that afternoon, and at a very good price. The mustard greens, picked up at the Greenmarket 3 days earlier, seemed a natural to go with the salmon.

I had several choices for a second vegetable, but I went with the celery root I’d been saving for a week or so, turning it into frites de céleri-rave (oven-roasted), whose sticks are shown below as they looked on the pan just before they went into the oven.