orecchiette al forno; lemon-roasted pork with sage; kale

orecchiette_con_i_funghi

maybe the layout looks a bit too obsessive, but it tasted very good

 

We had invited two friends to dinner long before ‘Jonas’ showed up last night.  It was a good thing they lived across the hall, because 30.5 inches of snow might have meant we would not have had a dinner party at all.

Part of the plan was to serve something which would allow me to be out of the kitchen as much as possible, once guests had arrived, to not miss out on the great conversation we expected.  Another was to ensure that the preparations would be familiar to me, virtually foolproof in their simplicity, and very tasty

The plan worked very well:  The conversation was brilliant, my work in the cucina was pretty simple, and the food and wine were both delicious.  There was also an occasional frisson as the wind and snow blew outside our windows.

  • to start the meal, we enjoyed an excellent California (North Coast) sparkling, Eponina Brut, with some long rustic breadsticks from Buon Italia

I had decided two days earlier that if the storm prevented me from picking up tuna steaks at the Greenmarket on Saturday, I would serve lemon-roasted pork cops for the main course, and before it a baked pasta I could prepare before the guests arrived (except for putting it in the oven) .  Barry and I decided on ‘Orecchiette con i Funghi’, because it seemed like a good introduction to the main course, and because, as baked pastas go, this one is pretty light, in spite of what the list of ingredients might suggest.

  • the instructions for preparing the pasta are laid out very clearly in this Kyle Phillips recipe.  I’ve served it before in a large oven pan, but this time I divided it into cazuelas.  I used a Puglian dried pasta, Benedetto Cavalieri “Single” Orecchiette from a factory in Otranto, shiitake mushrooms from John D. Madura Farms, pancetta from Buon Italia, one small yellow onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, one shallot from Phillips Farm, sliced ham from Dickson Farmstand Meats, pecorino cheese from  Buon Italia, and some of the tomato sauce which I had made 10 days earlier and frozen
  • the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2013

pork_chop_lemon_sage_kale

The second course included two recipes which had never failed me (the pork chop formula is absolute perfection, and possibly my favorite recipe anywhere); they are each as simple to prepare as a cook could ask for, and so were a perfect choice for serving guests.

I already had two 8-ounce Flying Pigs Farm rib pork chops frozen in the freezer.  I thought it would be a simple proposition to purchase two more on Friday, but on that day they only had much larger cuts, so I headed south, to Chelsea Market, and Dickson Farmstand Meats, where I was able to get 8-ounce loin chops.  It didn’t bother me that there were two different sets of cuts, except for the rigor of my silly shape aesthetic.

  • rib pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm and loin chops from DIxon Farmstand Meats (each approximately 8 ounces), thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper, seared in an oval copper au gratin pan, two local [sic] lemon halves from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island squeezed on top of the pork, then left in the pan while it went into a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over them once again), removed from the oven, scattered with chopped sage from Keith’s Farm, and the pan juices spooned over the top
  • curly winter kale from Lucky Dog Organic, wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until it began to brown, then finished with salt, pepper, a drizzle of olive oil, and a squeeze of Long Island lemon
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Vally) white, Montinore Estate Pinot Gris 2014

There was also a cheese course, ‘Manchester’ a goat cheese from Consider Bardwell; a prototype product called ‘Benson’ (a pasteurized cow’s milk cheese from a single herd of Jersey and Brown Swiss cows), also from Consider Bardwell; and an Italian gorgonzola ‘dolce’, from Eataly.  Thin slices of fresh ‘Tangy Sourdough’ (unbleached wheat flour, organic whole wheat flour, rye starter, water, and kosher salt) from Amy’s Bread, in Chelsea Market, accompanied the cheese.

 

lemon-marinated grilled squid; celeriac with thyme; tomato

squid_tomato_celeriac

possibly the best squid we had ever had, but I cannot explain why that was so

 

I was mostly concerned with assembling what I needed for a small dinner party the next night, Saturday, on a day when the forecast of a blizzard had already told me that I was not certain I would be able to find anything essential to my plan; the choice of an entrée for the night before was an afterthought.

But I had at least remembered to bring something home.  I chose some squid, from Paul’s Pura Vida stand.  It was something I had prepared many times before, using several different recipes, and I always enjoyed this cephalopod.  It’s a favorite for both of us, because of its taste, the ease with which it can be prepared, its global ubiquitousness, and its sustainability.

This time I opted for the recipe which used the most lemon, because I had a supply of local fruit back at home, and it wasn’t going to last forever.

  • three quarters of a pound of cleaned squid, bodies and tentacles from Pura Vida Fisheries, marinated for about half an hour (half of that time in the refrigerator) in a mixture of lemon zest and lemon juice (both from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, in the Union Square Greenmarket), thinly-sliced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, olive oil, pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, salt, and pepper, then removed from the marinade and pan-grilled briefly over high heat, arranged on plates, sprinkled with fresh lemon juice and some chopped parsley from Eataly, served with halves of a tiny lime-like lemon (lemon-like lime?) from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island  [the basic squid recipe, with more specific instructions appears here]
  • one small-to-medium celery root from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, peeled, and cut into the size and shape of potato frites, tossed in a bowl with olive oil, several sprigs of thyme from Eataly, two cloves of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, unpeeled, salt, and pepper, spread onto a medium-size Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, and roasted at 400º until brown and cooked through, removed, served on plates, and tossed with chopped parsley from Eataly
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
  • the music was Q2 streaming, ‘Sample Rate‘, which, according to the station, is “an evening devoted to the art of abstract electronic and electro-acoustic music”; memorably on this evening, we enjoyed pieces by Andris Dzenitis (specifically, ‘Les Livres de Ton Silence: L’Etrangere/Sonatine’), Peter Eotvos,  Jacob Ter Veldhuis (JacobTV),  Juris Karlsons, and John Zorn (we were too engrossed in conversation to ‘tune into’ the others)

salmon, tarragon; roast potato/tomato, rosemary; radicchio

  • salmon_radicchio_potato-tomato

(don’t look: the parmesan cheese shavings aren’t yet on top of the radicchio)

 

I was in between greenmarket days, and so there would be no fish.  I wanted to serve something sturdy to go with the vegetables that had been accumulating in the larder, which meant serving pasta was out, and I had forgotten to defrost any of the chops in the freezer the night before.

I decided that salmon was what I needed.  Whole Foods, which is 200 feet east of our back door, and frequently offers good previously-frozen wild salmon on sale, was teeming with people at 6:30 pm, presumably most of them frantically stocking up for the blizzard they expected would shut down the city 2 days later, so I didn’t even try picking up anything there. Instead I moved 9 blocks south, to Chelsea Market, and The Lobster Place, which I expected would present less of a panic environment.

I was right;  I was easily able to pick up an attractive section of a wild King Salmon fillet, proceed to a checkout with no line whatever, and still visit a few other shops while I was there.  No gentry panic anywhere in sight (although there were still more than a few tourists littering the main passageway).

  • one 10.5-ounce fillet of Alaska King salmon from The Lobster Place, cut into two servings, placed, skin side up, in an oval, enameled cast iron pan in which about two tablespoons of unsalted ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ (note: with 12 g total fat; when every other one available here has 11) had been allowed to heat until the foam began to recede, then placed in a 425º oven for about 7 minutes, or until barely cooked, flipped a little more than half way through, removed, arranged on plates, sprinkled with Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and chopped tarragon from Eataly
  • one medium radicchio from Eataly, quartered lengthwise, placed in a small unglazed ceramic oven pan (Pampered Chef, seasoned), drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper, roasted at 400º for about 12 minutes, turning once, finished with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and, once I had remembered to do so, scattered with shavings of Red Cow Parmesan cheese from Eataly
  • a handful of German Butterball potatoes from Berried Treasures, scrubbed, halved, tossed with olive oil, rosemary from Stokes Farm, salt, pepper, and whole garlic cloves (with husks) from Norwich Meadows Farm, spread onto an enameled cast iron pan and cooked at 400º until tender and browned, removed from the oven and halved Maine Backyard Farms cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods placed in the midst of the potatoes
  • the wine was a great Oregon (Willamette) red, Benton Lane Estate Grown Pinot Noir 2012

The meal had also included a primi, two cazuelas of penne rigatoni, the leftovers from its earlier visitation as a main course.

penne_rigatoni_leftover

  • the wine with the pasta course was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lod) white, Miriam Alexander Chenin Blanc 2014
  • the music though both courses  was Vivaldi’s opera, ‘Bajazet’, with Fabio Bondi conducting the ensemble Europa Galante, with, among others, Ildebrando D’Arcangelo, Marijana Mijanovic, Vivica Genaux, and David Daniels

crab salad; sautéed fluke, micro greens; roast fennel, olives

crab_salad_in_radicchio

The theme of this meal, stretching it a bit, seems to have been ‘buckwheat‘, although including an ‘exotic’ touch of a rather unglamorous (until very recently) pseudocereal had definitely not been contrived beforehand.  It just happened, and the dinner was as delicious as it was anomalous.

The story is that I already had on hand, from the meal the night before, most of a hearty baguette sarasin (buckwheat flour bread) from the Eric Kayser bakery shop, on Broadway below 23rd Street, and it became an accompaniment to both courses of this meal.  I’m loving that shop more and more, for the excellent bread of course, and for the charming Monsieur Kayser, but another of its virtues is that it’s in my path to or from the Union Square Greenmarket three or more times each week.

Then, at the Windfall Farms stand at the market earlier in the day, I spotted a micro green I hadn’t noticed before. It attracted my attention both for its delicate beauty, and for what it seemed would be its suitability for finishing the fish fillets I had just then purchased across the way.  The green was buckwheat [fagopyrum tataricum].

micro_buckwheat_greens

(micro buckwheat greens, with an interloper sighted on the top right)

 

  • we began with a shellfish course, meaning about 4 ounces of Little River Brand wild-caught backfin crabmeat from Whole Foods I had mixed with undocumented quantities of diced red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced celery from Eataly, Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil from Whole Foods, a little chopped peppermint from Phillips Farm, a bit of homemade French Basque espellate I had purchased in a town north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec, last year, from the producer’s daughter, some sea salt, Lisbon Lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, a rich Nigerian cayenne pepper, more excellent ‘The Ojai Cook’ organic mayonnaise than is likely to be good for anybody, and some black sesame seeds for garnish, the mixture served in ‘cups’ composed of leaves from a head of radicchio from Eataly
  • there were also slices of Kayser’s baguette sarasin (buckwheat flour bread)

fluke_buckwheat_greens_fennel_olives

  • the second course, also seafood-oriented, started with two 6-and-a-half-ounce fillets of fluke from American Seafood Company, washed, dried, brushed with a bit of good white wine vinegar and salt, floured, browned in a mixture of olive oil and butter, then removed to 2 plates, the pan wiped with paper towels, butter, lemon juice and parsley from Whole Foods added quickly and briefly heated while a handful of micro buckwheat greens from Windfall Farms were added to the pan, the sauce which resulted then poured over the fillets
  • the vegetable was a medium-size fennel bulb from Eataly, the core removed, cut into 8 wedges, tossed in a bowl with olive oil along with 2 crushed garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, a handful of thyme sprigs from Eataly, part of one dried peperoncino, crushed; salt, and pepper, then spread onto a glazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 425º, turning once, at which time a handful of pitted and halved Gaeta olives were tossed into the pan, served with additional chopped thyme sprinkled on top
  • addiitonal slices of the baguette sarasin helped to finish the sauces that remained on the plates

 

warm winter sallet [sic] with roast guinea fowl, gorgonzola

warm_winter_sallet_gorgonzola

It’s beginning to feel routine:  I cook a Guinea fowl and a few day later it’s become a part of a hearty warm winter salad (or ‘sallet’, borrowing an old English word and dish).

  • part of one small red cabbage from Whole Foods, the stems of a fennel bulb from Eataly, a small head of radicchio, also from Eataly, one small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, all the vegetables sliced thinly and placed in a large bowl along with coarsely-chopped toasted walnuts and pecans (because even after shelling all my walnuts, I still didn’t have enough), one small carrot from Whole Foods, cut into matchstick-size pieces, two small ripe Bosc pears from Locust Valley Fruit Farm, cut into small wedges, everything mixed together with a dressing of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm and chopped, and dijon mustard, blended with balsamic vinegar, and emulsified with olive oil, the combination (‘sallet’) heated in a large pan until the mix was warm and the cabbage slightly wilted, with cooked Guinea fowl, left from a meal enjoyed two days earlier, broken into bit-size pieces, added near the end, all served in large shallow bowls and topped with bits of creamy gorgonzola dolce cheese from Eataly
  • slices of an earthy baguette sarasin (buckwheat flour bread) from Eric Kayser
  • the wine was an excellent French (Beaujolais) red, Domaine des Billards (Barbet) Saint-Amour 2013
  • the music was Q2 streaming, notably Robert Kyr’s, Violin Concerto No. 2, “On the Nature of Harmony”

guinea hen, mustard and herbs, pan vegetables; collards

guinea_hen_in_pan

straight out of the oven, above, ‘carved’ and plated, below

 

Guinea_fowl_potatoes_collards

I’d cooked Guinea fowl only once before since starting this blog 8 years ago, although I think I may have prepared it at least once before then, in the darker ages.  In recent years I’ve rarely served any form of chicken at home, and when I do I’m pretty picky about it’s source.

And then, on Friday, while I was at the Lucky Dog Organic stand, I again spotted the dressed Guinea hens which are usually arranged on the table next to farmer Rich Giles’ own vegetables.  They’re raised by his farmer neighbor, Jennifer Grossman, and, for me, the fact that they were there had automatically given them an imprimatur way back in 2014.  On Friday they were being offered at half the regular price, apparently because the client of a restaurant customer had cancelled an event after Grossman’s farm had already processed a number of birds.  They were now looking for a new venue.

I could not pass up this opportunity, especially as I knew I’d have the time to prepare a roast of some kind on Sunday, two days later, and a warm oven seemed like it would be the right sort of thing for that day, since it was expected to be pretty cold.  I would have bought two, saving one for another chilly day, but my freezer was already pretty busy.

Because I had an entire evening to do it, I had a lot of fun washing, trimming, chopping, and filling up all the prep cups prior to actually placing the bird in the oven.  There were root-ish vegetables in the pan with the hen, and some tender collard greens (fittingly, also from Lucky Dog Organic) were easily cooked and set aside while everything else was in the oven, so I was able to concentrate entirely on basting and, eventually, checking for doneness (that last part was a little scary, but everything worked out fine.

The meal was a great success, largely because of the quality of the fixings, and because of the good recipe I came across on line, on epicurious.com (I roughly halved all of the ingredients for the single bird I cooked).

There were leftovers.  Yum.  Something like this warm salad may be their eventual disposition.

  • one 3-and-a-half-pound French Guinea hen from Mauer’s Mountain Farms, via Lucky Dog Organic, washed, dried then brought to room temperature, and prepared according to this Daniel Boulud recipe (with one exception, the addition to the sauce of a concentrated portion of the sauce poivrade in this venison dish) using ingredients from the January Union Square Greenmarket wherever possible, including: 4 garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm; 3 large German Butterball potatoes (halved) along with 2 smaller ‘red thumb’ potatoes, all from Berried Treasures Farm; 1 fresh bay leaf from Westside Market; 3 tablespoons of ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ from Whole Foods; 1 1/2 tablespoons of German-style whole-grain mustard from Whole Foods; 2 teaspoons of scissor-cut chives from Eataly; 2 large sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm; 2 large sprigs of tarragon, from Eataly; 2 sprigs of parsley from Whole Foods; 3 or 4 medium shallots from from Phillips Farm; 1/3 of a cup of chicken broth made with Better Than Bullion chicken base from Whole Foods
  • tender collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic, washed, then braised in a heavy pot in which one halved garlic clove from Norwich Meadows Farm had been allowed to sweat in some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a wonderful French (Beaujolais) red, Jean-Paul Brun Terres Dorées L’Ancien Beaujolais Vieilles Vignes 2013
  • the music was a superb album of contemporary work, ‘Mavericks’, produced by the American Modern Ensemble, which included compositions by Michael Lowenstern, Pamela Z, Sean McClowry, Robert Dick, Robert Paterson, John Eaton, William O. Smith, and Stuart Dempster

tilefish with leeks and thyme; boiled new potatoes, herbs

tilefish_leeks_potatoes

like meat and potatoes, but I mean that in a good way

 

The previous night we had enjoyed beef, but no potatoes.  Last night it was potatoes, but no beef. There was fish, not beef, yet even if it hadn’t been accompanied by potatoes, this fish entrée would have seemed as substantial as the proverbial meal of meat and potatoes.

I think it was what happened to the leeks inside the oven that almost totally altered a dish which I had prepared and enjoyed once before, at that time with one additional ingredient (a bit of bacon, described as optional by Mark Bittman, the author of the recipe).  I had inadvertently caramelized the leeks by the time I added the fish fillets and returned the dish to the oven, and this seemed to change almost everything.

Until we sat down and tasted it I was more than a little worried, but it was a delicious surprise, and a very hearty January meal.  I’ve decided to keep both recipes:  I’ll call the original, ’tilefish fillets with leeks, version 1′, and this one, ’tilefish fillets with leeks, version 2′.

  • two leeks from Whole Foods, sliced, tossed with olive oil, spread in a glazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 425º for 10 minutes, after which a teaspoon of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm and 1/4 cup of white wine were added, the pan returned to the oven for 20 minutes more, during which time I added more wine as it became clear the leeks were caramelizing, after those 20 minutes, 4 Tilefish fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, were placed on top of the leeks, brushed with a little olive oil, and the pan again placed in the oven until the fish was done, the pan removed the fish garnished with more thyme, and served with the leeks
  • small red potatoes from Stokes Farm, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm glass pot, halved, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with both chopped fresh winter savory and chopped fresh oregano, both from Stokes Farm
  • the wine was a French (Loire) white, Domaine Bellevue Touraine Sauvignon 2014
  • the music, suitable for a king’s supper, and our own, was Jean-Philippe Rameau’s ‘Orchestral Suites’, performed by Jordi Savall and Le Concert Des Nations

culotte steak; braised kales; roasted baby carrots, parsley

culotte_kale_carrots

I came across this cut of beef late in 2009, when we were checking out The Meat Hook, in Brooklyn, not long after it had first opened.  The meat was beautiful, the deep red of the lean flesh contrasting with the almost pure white of the thick layer of fat, each piece curved into a loop and impaled on a wooded skewer.  The butcher explained its origin and its properties.  I was intrigued, at least as much by the aesthetic and perhaps by the relatively exotic story of its origins (Argentina, we were told), as by the promise of excellent flavor, but it was only months later that I actually got around to cooking a culotte steak.  I had purchased it then from Dickson Farm Stand Meats, our even more local butcher.

It’s been a favorite for both of us ever since.  Although I hadn’t brought one of these lean, very flavorful steaks home for a while, partly because we don’t really eat beef very often, yesterday we may have enjoyed the best one yet.

For the best experience with this cut it’s essential to know what kind of steak you’ve brought home before throwing it on the fire.  The culotte is very lean, and could turn out more chewy than expected – or desired – unless certain procedures are followed.  Because it is so lean, it should not be cooked medium-rare, which would normally be our preference with beef, but rather closer to a medium doneness.

In the past I would always sear it on one side for 2 minutes, turn it over and sear the second side for 45 seconds, then place it inside a moderately-hot oven (375º) for 7 or 8 minutes.  Last night I approached the process very differently.

Earlier in the day, when I was inside the Dickson Farm shop in Chelsea Market, I discussed the virtues of the cut with a young butcher named Philip.  Clearly as well-grounded in the mysteries of the Kitchen as he was in the details of meat cuts, he suggested briefly searing the side of the steak with the heavy layer of fat in a heavy pan (I used a well-seasoned cast iron skillet) just enough to release some of the fat onto the surface of the metal, then cooking each of the sides for about 4 minutes over medium heat, and finally briefly searing the fourth, or top side (the one opposite the side with the fat).

The result was perfect.  The flavor was superb, and because we were able to slice the still-square-section steaks very thinly, and also almost certainly because of the quality of the steak, the meat was quite tender.

  • one 11-ounce sirloin culotte (Picanha), produced by Wrighteous Organics, in Schoharie, New York, purchased from Dickson Farm Stand Meats, cut into two pieces, brought to room temperature, seasoned with good sea salt and freshly-ground tellicherry pepper*, seared briefly on the top, the fat side, turned, and cooked for about 4 minutes on each side, then the bottom side seared briefly, removed from the pan, drizzled with juice from a local hothouse Lisbon lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and some olive oil, allowed to rest about 4 minutes, then sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm
  • very small parti-colored carrots from Rogowski Farm, tossed in olive oil with salt and pepper, and cooked in a Pampered Chef medium-sized pan at 400º until tender (the time will depend on size; these took about 15 minutes), finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
  • mostly green kale, but also some purple leaves, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a Spanish (Duero) red, Creta Noble, Ribera del Duero 2013
  • the music was Carlos Chavez, Symphonies No.4 and 2, from the album, Chavez: The Complete Symphonies / Mata, London SO

 

* Note: I’m still unresolved on the subject of the moment when a steak should be seasoned with salt, or pepper; this time I actually forgot about seasoning until after I had already started to cook the second side, and then I sprinkled that side, and, when it was done, the first side; I’m going to have to do more research on the subject

broiled sea perch with anchovy; kale; tomato compote

sea_perch_on_counter

on the counter, the three basic elements, before…

 

sea_perch_kale_tomatoes

…and on the plate, as it was served

 

What fishermen in New York ocean waters call ‘sea perch’ bears no relationship to the fresh water perch I grew up with.  The brilliant color of its scales and its skin would be enough evidence, but, since its  pinkish flesh cooks up white, we could be fooled had it not been seen in its earlier state.

The French know it as Rascasse, but there’s some confusion with names on the other side of the Atlantic because it apparently belongs to the family, ‘scorpaenidae‘, which also includes the scorpionfish.

I think.

Anyway, it’s delicious.

  • six fillets of red sea perch (a total of one pound) from American Seafood Company, brushed with olive oil and some chopped green garlic from Lani’s Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, then broiled 4 inches from the flames for about 4 minutes until the skin was crisp and the fish cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which 3 rinsed, filleted salted anchovies from Buon Italia were heated until they had fallen apart, finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
  • a small amount of ‘Evenstar Smooth’ kale from Alewife Farm, barely wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • five Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, heated in olive oil with one chopped scallion from John D. Madura Farm, along with some chopped thyme from Stokes Farm and part of one red cayenne pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, finely chopped
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
  • the music was Carlos Chavez, Symphonies No.1 and 3, from the album, Chavez: The Complete Symphonies / Mata, London SO

speck, greens; scallops, pea shoots; roasted parsnips; kale

Speck_baby_greens_bread

‘Dinner in the din[ing room], nothing could be finer’. We had family, one of whom had never been to New York, so we decided not to stay in the breakfast room.  The red placemat should have been a dead giveaway, even if I hadn’t described the location, which involved a mahogany table.

We started out with a salume, continued with shellfish, followed that with a cheese course, and finished with a gingerbread pastry.

  • thinly-sliced Alto Adige Speck from Eataly, each piece rolled around the tines of a fork and put on a plate, drizzled with some very good olive oil, accompanied by mixed baby greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, the greens seasoned and dressed with good oil and drops of local hot house Lisbon lemon
  • the salume was accompanied by slices of a loaf of ‘rustic classic’ from Eataly
  • the wine was an Australian (South Australia) sparkling, Taltarni 2011 from Chelsea Wine Vault

 

scallops_parsnips_kale

  • sea scallops from Pura Vida Seafood, washed, rinsed and dried very thoroughly, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of Lisbon lemon juice, a drizzle of olive oil, and scissored little chive plants from Rogowski Farm, placed on a bed of pea shoots from Alewife Farm [the basic recipe, minus the chives and the shoots, is included in Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’, ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘]
  • parsnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed thoroughly, sliced, mostly into 1/4-to-1/2″ discs, tossed with olive oil, several garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, unpeeled, salt, and pepper, roasted in a 425º oven for about 30-40 minutes
  • ‘Evenstar Smooth’ kale from Alewife Farm, barely wilted in some olive oil after one clove of peeled garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked in the oil until it was beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Santa Barbara) white, Rasmussen Chardonnay 2014

 

  • the music throughout was our happy conversation