It wasn’t yet midnight when we sat down to this pasta dish yesterday after returning from a performance of Robert Ashley’s opera-novel, ‘Quicksand’, at another ‘kitchen’, The Kitchen. The designation ‘Midnight Pasta’ is not my doing, but is rather inspired by its simplicity, the fact that all of its ingredients are staples nelle cucine italiane, and the speed with which it can be prepared (20 minutes or so).  The affectionate name, in Italian, ‘spaghettata di mezzanotte‘, hints at its popularity.

I cut a printed version of the recipe, by David Tanis, out of the ‘Dining’ section of the New York Times back in 2011.  The article’s titillating headline read, “At the End of the Night, Satisfaction“.  In fact, there may be an almost infinite number of variations to this meal, and I imagine almost all of them are equally seductive.

We had seconds, and skipped a cheese course.

I followed the Tanis recipe more or less as printed, although I reduced the amount of pasta, and that of the remaining ingredients in the same proportion.  I also added some reserved pasta water and emulsified it in in pan where the cooked and drained pasta had been returned.  Also, while I did not use Parmesan cheese he mentioned as an option, I further tweaked his formula by adding some toasted homemade breadcrumbs to the top of the sauced spaghetti once it had been placed in the two bowls.

• the ingredients I used were 11 ounces of Setaro spaghetti from Buon Italia; 3 garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm; 3 rinsed and filleted salted anchovies from Buon Italia; a tablespoon of capers, also from Buon Italia; much of one peperoncino di Sardegna intero (yes, Buon Italia too); 2 tablespoons of Italian parsley from Eataly, chopped; and two tablespoons of breadcrumbs I had made from a number of different kinds of bread, ground in my vintage Osterizer (one of the very few electric appliances I have in the kitchen)
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Fuori Strada Grillo 2014, whose gorgeous soft packaging, the makers describe as safe for a bicycle water bottle (we weren’t on bikes last night)
• the music included a good number of pieces in the box CD set, Music From The ONCE Festival 1961- 1966 (of which Robert Ashley was one of the founders)

There are a few modest new things going on here, new even to me.

I’ve worked before with the same basic swordfish recipe [Bon Appétit, 2005] used here, but I’ve never finished the steaks with winter savory; I’ve eaten rutabaga all my life, having grown up in a more-or-less-German-American kitchen (learning only much later that the French normally think of that vegetable as suitable for pigs), but I think I’ve never before attempted to prepare them as frites, even faux-frites; I love the flavor of celery in any form (incidentally, in Europe it’s celeriac, and not what we know as celery, that’s the kind preferred for cooking), but I think this was the first time I had pan-grilled the green stalks themselves.

• two swordfish steaks, off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, out of East Islip, Long Island, from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, dried, sprinkled with salt and a mix of 6 different peppercorns, ground coarsely in my ancient mortar, browned in a little olive oil on one side (about 3 minutes) inside a tin-lined copper au gratin pan, then turned over and the pan transferred to a 400º oven for about 7 or 8 minutes, or until barely cooked, removed and placed on warm plates while a seasoned butter was added to the pan (composed of  2 tablespoons of softened butter, a quarter teaspoon or more of the same peppercorn mix, half of a teaspoon of organic lemon zest, a bit of salt, one minced rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, and chopped parsley from Eataly) and scraped together over medium heat along with the cooking juices, to collect the brown bits from the bottom, the sauce poured over the steaks, which were then sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm (damn, that stuff really lasts!)
• about a pound of ‘Gilfeather turnips’ from Alewife Farm (the turnip/rutabaga hybrid is of Vermont origin, which, by one account, “has a mild taste that becomes sweet and a creamy white color after the first frost“), cut as french fries, tossed with about one tablespoon of olive oil, salt, pepper, one clove of garlic from from Tamarack Hollow Farm, minced, and two sprigs of rosemary from Stokes Farm, chopped, spread evenly onto a large, seasoned, unglazed ceramic oven pan, and roasted at 400º for about 25 minutes
• several celery stalks from Migliorelli Farm (yes, in late January!), their leaves removed and reserved, trimmed, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, pan-grilled, finished with the reserved leaves, which had been chopped, and sprinkled with micro arugula greens from Lucky Dog Organic
• the wine was a New Zealand (Marlborough) white, Mount Nelson Sauvignon Blanc 2013
• the music was Hans Werner Henze’s idiosyncratic 1971, Concerto for Violin no 2

For the last couple of months I’ve been moving around a single smoked pork chop in our freezer.  It was the survivor from what had originally been a package of two.  Neither of us can remember when we had 3 chops, that is, one guest for a dinner, but to make matters awkward, our favorite vender for these things always sold them only in pairs, so it seemed that I would eventually have to make a meal, for the two of us, of what would be less than 4 ounces of meat, once cut off the bone.

Last night it happened.  Surprisingly, even with the additional constraint of only a small number of potatoes and not much more than a handful of kale, to fill out two dinner plates, there was enough for a pretty satisfying meal (translation: we didn’t move on to a cheese course).

• a small amount of rendered duck fat, from an earlier meal, which I keep in the freezer, heated inside an oval, low-sided enameled cast iron pan, one sliced spring onion from Eataly, white portions only, the green reserved for later, swirled around in it, one smoked loin pork chop from Millport Dairy added to the pan, covered with tin foil and kept above a very low flame (just enough to warm the chops through, as they were already fully-cooked), turning the meat once, then, near the end of the cooking time, the green parts of the onion which had been set aside earlier, now also sliced, added, the pork removed, plated, brushed with garlic oregano jelly from Berkshire Berries, then covered with both the white and green onion pieces
• a small amount of green kale from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until it had begun to brown, and finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• small German Butterball potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, unpeeled but scrubbed, boiled in heavily-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, halved, tossed with a little butter, and sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs (lots of homemade breadcrumbs, because there were so few potatoes) which had already been browned in butter
• the wine was a California (Russian River Valley) red, Scott Peterson Rox Pinot Noir 2014
• the music was Unsuk Chin, 3 Concertos (piano, cello, sheng), performed by the Seoul Philharmonic conducted by Myung-Whun Chung

• barely two ounces of fresh tagliatelle from Eataly’s (Luca Donofrio), boiled until al dente, tossed with a sauce composed of one chopped spring onion, including some of the green stem, and parts of one red and one yellow ‘cloud pepper’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had been heated together in olive oil until softened, sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs which had been browned in a cast iron pan
• the bread was from a loaf of Eataly’s ‘rustic classic’

 

• four 3-and-a-half-ounce flounder fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, sautéed in olive oil and butter over high heat until golden brown (2-3 minutes, then 1-2 minutes on the other side, served with a tomato butter made by melting some ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ and adding one chopped shallot from Whole Foods, cooking it until softened and fragrant, removed from the heat, allowed to cool for 2 or 3 minutes, then tossed with quartered Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, seasoned with salt, and chopped tarragon from Eataly added, along with a few drops of red wine (Chianti) vinegar
• micro arugula greens from Lucky Dog Organic served on a small pool of very good olive oil
• I had used more butter than I should have in the ‘sauce’, so I was happy to have more of Eataly’s excellent rustic bread on the table
• the wine through both courses was a super-delicious Spanish (Galicia) white, Benito Santos Egrexario de Saiar Albariño 2014
• the music, also throughout the meal, was by the much-neglected Johann Adolf Hasse, his magnificent baroque opera, ‘Cleofide‘, performed by William Christie and the Cappella Coloniensis, with Derek Lee Ragin, Emma Kirkby, Dominique Visse, Randall K Wong, Agnès Mellon, and David Cordier  (NOTE: I shivered at the beauty of the music of the Aria, ‘Dov’e se affretti’, and especially Derek Lee Ragin’s performance, in Act III Scene 9); the entire opera can be heard here, on Spotify; also, by the way, unlike Kirk McElhearn, in the review linked to above, I liked the recitatives, but then, I’m pretty German; and I didn’t miss the tenors and bases at all)

Something new. Unfortunately I can’t write that phrase as often as I would like to, but on a trip to Dickson’s Farmstand Meats last week I spotted a beautiful pâté de tète set in aspic, and asked Philip to vacuum pack two small slices in each of two packages (in order to be used in two meals).  The delicacy is known by many names, including ‘head cheese‘, but it was, I think, something new on this site, and delicious, whatever it might be called.

I’m now remembering how much my Father loved head cheese, which of course is not a cheese at all, and as kids we couldn’t get past the name. He also really loved Limburger cheese, which doesn’t have a name problem, but we all ran from the lunch table when he opened its package and exposed the pungent smell produced by the bacteria largely responsible for body odor, and smelly feet.

Dad, I’m thinking, was a sensual man.

I just realized that Limburg is from the part of the Germanic world from which the Wagners originated; ah, the power of heritage!

When I thought about including this beautiful pâté as a first course in this meal, fortunately I already had on hand some cornichon, a bottle of good prepared French mustard, and a loaf of crusty bread.

No Limburger in site.

• one small slice of pâté de tète from Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, with a few Maille cornichon, Edmond Fallot Dijon mustard, and slices of ‘rustic classic’ from Eataly
• the wine was a California (North Coast) white, Jac Cole Oak Fermented Chardonnay North Coast 2014

The main course included one of our favorite recipes, a simple sautéed duck breast, with a new finish. There were also some very-late-season Brussels sprouts from the Greenmarket, the secret for whose availability on one of the last days of January I was unable to learn that day.

• one 12-ounce Pat LaFrieda boneless duck breast from Eataly, its fatty side scored by a very sharp knife with cross-hatching, sprinkled with a mixture of salt, ‘India Special Extra Bold’ Tellicherry peppercorns, and a bit of turbinado sugar (which had been infused in over time with a vanilla bean), the breast left standing for about an hour before it was pan-fried over medium heat with a very small amount of duck fat remaining from an earlier meal, removed when medium rare (cutting it into the two portions at that time to be certain) finished with a drizzle of organic lemon, sprinkled with some beautiful micro arugula from Lucky Dog Orgnanic, and dressed with a bit of olive oil
• small Brussels sprouts from Milgliorelli Farm, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and three unpeeled garlic cloves, spread onto a large, very well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan in a 400º oven and cooked until tender and slightly carbonized (the time will depend on size, but these took barely 15 minutes), finished with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and stirred
• the wine was a French (Bordeaux) red, Château Penin, Bordeaux Supérieur 2011, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music throughout most of the meal was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 9, Jaap van Zweden conducting the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra