It was the second time I had cooked this delicious simple dish, an adaptation of the one found on this site.  The extraordinary complexity of flavors, considering the minimal list of ingredients, was still a surprise; it was just as good this time around, and just about impossible to be satisfied with just one serving.  We didn’t have a cheese course.

• two large cloves of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced thinly, heated in a deep pan over medium-high flame, along with one finely-chopped not-so-hot Cayenne thin red pepper (with the seeds this time) from Oak Grove Plantation, until the garlic was almost starting to color, pieces of boned smoked eel from Blue Moon Fish Company added and tossed until warmed through, half of some savory pangrattato* prepared a little earlier mixed in and combined, the cooked and drained pasta (18 ounces of Setaro spaghetti chitarra from Buon Italia), added to the pan, tossed with the eel and pangratto and stirred over low heat for a couple of minutes, adding about a cup of the reserved pasta water while doing so, served in low bowls, where it was sprinkled with more pangratto and finished with ‘scissored’ chives (Goodness Garden, New Hampton, NY) from Union Market

*The preparation of the pangratto involved adding about a third of a cup of homemade breadcrumbs to about a fourth of a cup of olive oil in which two more thinly-sliced Norwich Meadows Farm garlic cloves and 3 anchovies from Buon Italia had been heated for a short while, stirring for 4-5 minutes, the mixture then drained on paper toweling and brought to room temperature

• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Insolia 2013 from Philippe Wine in Chelsea, which is located about 50 yards from our front door
• the music was that of Germaine Tailleferre, Chamber Music & Piano Music, the only female member of the group of French composers known as ‘Les Six‘; the music is terrific, and her story is very much of the twentieth century

We rarely have anything but a pretty basic breakfast, even on weekends, probably because we already get up so late that we don’t want to put off the day any more than we would already have by then. But sometimes a breakfast can’t really be thought of as ‘putting off the day’.  This one, of bacon, eggs, toast, and a few trimmings, was very much part of our day this past Sunday, and it turned out to be a super one (breakfast and day).  Besides, we started our Sunday so late that we didn’t have to steal from it later in the afternoon with a proper lunch, even if we suspected we would not start to eat dinner until after ten o’clock.

I love eggs, at any time of the day, and in any form, but I usually just can’t leave them alone without some device – or devices.  In this case it meant herbs and spices, some only a little more exotic than others.

The herbs inside the yellow cup in the picture above were a mix of parsley from John D. Madura Farm, thyme from Phillips Farm, oregano from Rise & Root Farm, plus tarragon and winter savory, both from Stokes Farm.  The spice in the red one was some crushed very complex-flavored and highly-pungent ‘India Special Extra Bold’ Tellicherry peppercorns (“Special refers to longer maturation on the vine, the extra bold refers to larger size.”) by Penzeys Spices.  After the picture was taken I also included a container of whole peperoncini from Buon Italia, crushed.

The salt was Maldon.

Both the eggs and the bacon (thick, country-style) were from Millport Dairy, in the Union Square Greenmarket, and the European-style (more butter fat) butter was ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter, Unsalted’, with 12g (18%) total fat, from Westside Market on Seventh Avenue.

The toast originated as part of a loaf of 7-grain bread from Eataly.

After preparing the condiments, the first thing I did was to heat the bacon very slowly in an enormous cast iron pan, which meant that less fat had accumulated after it had been cooked, and I fried the eggs in most of what had remained, reserving the rest for use in another meal. Barry, the toastmaster, began his duties just as I removed the bacon from the pan.

One tradition however that we observe every Sunday is starting off the day with music that is somehow ‘Sunday-ish’, at least in the Christian tradition. It’s a tradition from which each of us fully emerged, alive, thank goodness, long ago.  The choice of this music is made not out of nostalgia, but rather for the opportunity to listen to a part of the Western world’s great musical canon which is insufficiently represented in concert, and to listen to it in [at least a part of] the context for which it was originally written.

For me, the earliest form of this tradition began in Europe in 1961, when I first lived outside the U.S. and had ready access to live classical music performance, churches included.  In Munich, two years later, now a fully-confirmed atheist, I often went on Sundays with one or more friends to listen to music performed inside one of the shiny-new recently-restored great Munich churches, my aesthetic senses now proudly – and perhaps sadly – free of the veil of religious devotion (although understanding the powerful symbiosis of the two).  There we could listen to singers, a chorus, and a real orchestra performing some of the world’s most glorious (although even then becoming increasingly esoteric) music inside the kind of great spaces for which it was intended.  This sort of experience is not easily found in New York City today (and likely never was); when it is, there is usually an admission price involved.

Yesterday at home, with a bow to Beirut and to Paris, we played a recording of Gabriel Fauré’s ‘Requiem’.

seconds after the shrimp were placed in a seasoned 10-pound cast iron pan

 

With the arrival of Eco Shrimp Garden to the Friday Union Square Greenmarket, I now can buy fish on a single day which can serve as meals for two consecutive days. The very fresh decapoda, pulled out of water the same day they are sold, can keep for the next (actually, and even beyond, I understand) without any taste sacrifice.  This means that we are able to enjoy that night whatever I select from the Pura Vida stand, and still enjoy a seafood meal the next, even if I can’t make it to Union Square Saturday.

I wish I could claim it as my own, but the excellent recipe I used came from Mark Bittman; it was in a feature article inside the FOOD section of the New York Times, ‘The Pantry Made Me Do It: Shrimp, Simply Spanish‘.  The print version included the simple recipe text; unfortunately the link above only includes a four-minute-plus video, and in it Bittman ends up adding tomato, which I did not do.

This  was more than a recipe however. In his piece Bittman’s describes his attitude toward stocking his kitchen, and making do – or, in his case, much more than just making do – with what is on hand.  It’s an attitude to which I have aspired for a long time, and which I seem to be gradually obtaining. Next there was my happy discovery that I actually had on hand last night every ingredient he used in the recipe with which he illustrated his point. I was thinking, ‘who has a dried chipotle pepper, saffron, and good cumin seed together in the kitchen at the same time?’  Maybe I really am on my way to chef-hood.

 

• one teaspoon of chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, heated inside a (13 1/2″) cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, followed by the addition of a pinch of saffron, one whole chipotle pepper from Northshire Farm (do not squish) and a teaspoon of freshly-ground cumin seed, all of it stirred for a minute or two, then three-quarters of a pound of Hudson Valley farmed shrimp from Eco Shrimp Garden added, seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit, and the shrimp cooked until firm, turned once or twice in the meantime, served with a squeeze of lemon, and garnished with parsley from John D. Madura Farm
• yellow pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, reheated later in a bit of olive oil, in which thin slices of a small shallot had been warmed, then seasoned with salt and pepper and finished with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
• the music was Germaine Tailleferre, chamber and piano music

cute spuds

 

No, not all white fish tastes the same.  Like us, the Tilefish loves crab and lobster, which may help to explain why we love Tilefish.  But, contrary to what some people say or write about it, while the flesh is lean, tender and particularly sweet, no one will mistake it for crab or lobster;  more like cod that’s gone to heaven.

The vegetables accompanying the fish included a beautiful, very tender bouquet of collards I had bought a few days before, plus one ‘fluke’: ten baby ‘Papa Chaucha’, pressed into my hand that afternoon by one of my favorite farmers; both were Greenmarket finds of course. They were delicious; earthy and creamy, I’m definitely going back for more next week.

NOTE: ‘Papa Chaucha’ [‘ancient potato’] is a name which I believe covers all of the ancient breeds of potato, originally found all over Central and South America, although the Andes may be a more specific geography for these particular [cultivars?].  Franca’s Berried Treasures stall sign described her ‘Papa Chaucha’ (she had both these very small examples, and some larger) as Ecuadorean, added that the seed was given to her by one of the people who works with Dave Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island on one of his visits, and asked her customers for feedback.

• the basic Tilefish recipe, which I’ve used on more than one occasion, is this one from Melissa Clark, in which she generously suggests using any number of various herbs and several allium possibilities;  I used one 16-ounce tilefish fillet from Pura Vida, halved, well-dried, seasoned, placed it in several tablespoons of butter melted inside my new/old copper gratin pan, basted it with sliced young leeks from Ryder Farm (rather than scallions specified in the recipe, which I did not have) and, in the end, more than half a dozen different of the fresh herbs I did have (all from Greenmarket farmers), and finished with lemon juice
• a very few tiny ‘Papa Chaucha’ from Berried Treasures, boiled in salted water in a small pot, drained, dried in the same, still-warm pot, seasoned with salt and pepper, and rolled in butter
• some sweet, tender collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut as a rough chiffonade, then braised in a heavy pot in which slightly-crushed garlic from Phillips Farm had first been heated in some olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon white, A to Z Oregon Chardonnay 2013 (note that the link is to a 2014 vintage)
• the music was Modest Mussorgsky, ‘Boris Godounov’, Valery Gergiev conducting the Kirov Theater Orchestera and the Kirov Chorus (all of it)

something to keep up one’s sleeve, for emergencies, whether or not the emergencies involve unexpected guests

 

It’s always the same simple recipe, worked by the same cook, and in the same kitchen, but it turns out a little differently each time, and not just in its appearance.

I have to assume the source of most, it not all of the ingredients was different, but this encounter with a very basic recipe differed significantly from an earlier preparation, and also from any of the many other times we’ve enjoyed it over the years.  I usually turn to this Mark Bittman minimal ‘quick meal’ after we’ve been out until quite late, when there’s no time to prepare anything more ambitious. Note that there are others, equally as handy.

We never get tired of it.  It’s probably a little like the kind of reanimation that comes upon hearing a familiar piece of music, perhaps a favorite, in different performances, even if the principle players might remain the same.

• Bittman’s instructions for this meal, as included in his, “Summer Express: 101 Simple Meals Ready in 10 Minutes or Less”, read, “Put a large can of chickpeas and their liquid in a medium saucepan. Add some sherry, along with olive oil, plenty of minced garlic, smoked pimentón (I used ‘pikant’ this time) and chopped Spanish chorizo.”  (I used Olé ‘Spanish Style Dry Cured Paprika Chorizo, made in the U.S., from Brooklyn Fare, on Schermerhorn Street, which we had opicked up oin the way home from a performance one block away, and garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm)
• the wine was a Spanish (Murcia) red, Olivares Altos De la Hoya Monastrell 2012
• the music was the Piano Concerto No 3 of Nikos Skalkottas