lunch with Amish farm eggs and bacon, tomatoes and stuff

But of course our Sunday lunches (which are also breakfasts) almost always include Amish farm eggs and bacon; it’s almost everything else that changes, although sometimes only slightly.

    • yesterday, in addition to 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens and 4 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, all from John Stoltzfoos’ Pennsylvania Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, there were two small ripe green and/or red-ish heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, seasoned and heated in a bit of olive oil, sprinkled with scissored fresh dill from Quarton Farm, and the eggs fried inside the same very large well-seasoned cast iron pan in which the bacon had been slowly cooked, but only after thin slices of a Phillips Farms garlic scape had been stirred in and softened in the fat, to which first a little very rich Vermont Creamery butter had first been added, seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and some freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with some finely slivered fresh habanada pepper from Camp Rosso Farm and a pinch of crushed dried smoked serrano peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, scattered with chopped leaves of flowering pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm; the bread, which was very fresh and not toasted, was Homadama bread (wheat , corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
    • the music was an album of 12 Suites for Harpsichord by Johann Mattheson (1681-1764), played by  Alessandro Simonetto

 

dolphin, scape, habanada, pericón; potatoes, epazote; kale

The single dolphin fillet was a little smaller than that I’d usually prefer to get for the two of us, but while I was at the fisher’s stand I couldn’t figure out how to bring home more without messing up the aesthetic of the plate. Fortunately I had some wonderful vegetables to help fill in.

I also now realized I had two Mexican herbs, epazote (‘Mexican tea)’ and pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’), to help pull together a meal I ended up feeling had something of a subtle Mexican theme, even more so after the fact: These 2 herbs, plus the dolphin (‘dorado‘), an important fish in Mexico, and the inclusion of a Mexican lemon and some fresh habanada pepper (which was bred from the habañero, native to the Yucatan as well as elsewhere in Central America) didn’t make it a Mexican meal, but it was fun enjoying what they did make of familiar ingredients, and they sure helped make it a good meal.

The herbs appear below as they did in the Union Square Greenmarket, the pericón first, then the epazote (in the center).

  • one 10.5-ounce-ounce dolphin fillet, without skin, from Pura Vida Seafood Company, dry-marinated for 45 minutes or so covered with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped fresh parsley from Phillips Farms, plus some local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 3 minutes, then turned over and the other side seared for 3 more, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a universal copper lid for a minute or two, and when that was removed, the fish joined by some very thinly sliced garlic scapes from Phillips Farms, only a portion from one pepper of chopped fresh habanada, (a little goes a long way, as with most seasoning peppers) and some chopped leaves of pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, which were together very briefly sautéed along with the fish before it was removed from the pan, followed by the scapes, the habanada, and the herb, and arranged on the plates, with the little bit of rich, savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish from the pan

  • roughly 11 ounces of small ‘red potatoes’ from Lani’s Farm, harvested – and purchased – late in July, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, halved, then rolled in a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, and some chopped fresh epazote from TransGenerational Farm, more of the herb sprinkled on top once the potatoes were arranged on the plates

whole wheat pasta with anchovy, garlic, chili, capers, kale

I’d been waiting for an opportunity to revisit one of my favorite darker artisanal pastas, but the weather hadn’t been cooperating. I had bought the package in the spring, when the weather was much cooler. I think of wholewheat pasta, and the kind of accoutrements it suggests, as just a little too earthy for a hot summer meal, even though that notion is almost certainly just inside my head.

Last night, while our air conditioning was separating us from the August heat and humidity, I thought of it again when I realized I had a small bunch of light kale I had bought for the meal the evening before, but ended up not using. I thought it would be an excellent match for its special appeal, and it certainly was. Still, I did leave off the shaved cheese topping suggested as an option by Melissa Clark, the author of the recipe. After all, it was still summer.

[note to the file – and to Clark’s editors: I’m pretty certain there’s a mistake in the published recipe where it says: “Add chiles and a pinch of salt and toast until golden, 1 to 2 minutes.”, since the chiles are very red, very dry, in any event wouldn’t normally require toasting, and definitely not for 1 to 2 minutes; she may have meant that the garlic should be added at that pont, ahead of the capers and anchovies, but that seems unlikely]

  • a bit of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market added to roughly 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large antique copper pot and briefly heated over a medium flame, followed by 4 fat ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves from TransGenerational Farm that had been crushed and skinned, 2 tablespoons of thoroughly rinsed and drained Sicilian capers, “patted dry with a paper towel to encourage browning”, writes Clark, although I’ve never been able to do this with capers, and couldn’t this time, and 4 well-rinsed, drained, and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies, all cooked until everything was softened, the capers, ideally, looking crisp around the edges, and the anchovies dissolved into the oil, or for about 3 to 4 minutes, at which point one small bunch of young, trimmed, washed, drained, and chopped Redbor kale from TransGenerational Farm was stirred into the pot, and 9 ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ whole wheat Italian Pastaio di Gragnano from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, tossed in, followed by at least 3 quarters of a cup of reserved cooking water, and everything stirred with my ancient #1 wooden spoon over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, when plenty of freshly ground black pepper was added and a bit of organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top, the pasta tossed one more time, then served in 2 shallow bowls
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
  • and speaking of the seasons, the music was Haydn’s own interpretation, ‘Die Schöpfung’, Bernard Haitink conducting the Choir and Orchestra of the Bayerischen Rundfunks

herbed bass, tomato-olive-chili salsa, dill; fried red pepper

It was delicious, and I think the plate looks good, which makes me almost as happy. Nothing was planned even seconds ahead in the presentation; it just unfolded, the fillet first, then the peppers, finishing with the salsa. The tomato and olive mix was placed close to the fish and not the peppers, because it was definitely an attribute of the former. It was not arranged on or under it because it would have at least partially obscured the beauty of the skin and the herbs with which the bass had been cooked, and because, being room temperature, it would have compromised its remaining warmth.

One other note about last night, something I can rarely say: No allium of any sort was harmed in the making of this meal.

  • two 6-ounce black sea bass filets from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, whose preparation began, once they had been removed from the refrigerator, with a fresh salsa assembled inside a small bowl about 30 minutes in advance of their cooking, incorporating one cup of sliced green heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, about half a cup of pitted Gaeta olives from Flatiron Eataly, a little crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, some local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of crushed dried (now in powdered form) golden/orange habanada pepper, and a little olive oil, the mix tossed and then set aside while the fish was cooked: two 5 and a half-ounce black sea bass fillets, also from American Seafood Company, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed over a fairly brisk flame in a little Mac Nut macademia nut oil from Whole Foods Market inside a large vintage oval tin-lined copper skillet, skin side down (because that will be the side seen on the plate later), turned over after about 3 minutes and the flesh side cooked for about the same length of time, or when the fish was done, when it was removed to 2 plates and kept warm while 2 tablespoons of butter were added to the pan and allowed to melt, a couple tablespoons of a mix of chopped spearmint from Stokes Farm and chopped parsley from Phillips Farms (an inspired choice, I think, but there are potentially so many others) tossed in, along with a tablespoon or more of Whole Foods Market organic Mexican lemon juice, all stirred into the butter for a few seconds before the sauce was spooned on top of the plated bass, and the salsa that had been set aside earlier arranged next to the fillets, both fish and salsa garnished with some wonderful pungent dill flowers from Quarton Farm scissored from their stems

swordfish belly, tomatoes, epazote; cucumber, onion, dill

It’s certainly one of the easiest seafoods to prepare, especially if you decide it isn’t necessary to remove the skin (although the next time I probably will, if only to make the searing more efficient).

Barry suggested swordfish belly when I had I asked him for his preference yesterday, texting him an image of the day’s menu board mounted behind the fish sellers in the Union Square Greenmarket (I don’t get to the market early, so several items had already sold out).

And I had two ripe Sikkim cucumbers, which, it seemed to me, would make an excellent match between south Asia and our New York table.

one 1½-inch-thick, 15-ounce belly steak from a local (Long Island) waters swordfish (note there is a significant shrinkage in the cooking process) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to kitchen/room temperature, cut into 2  segments and the skin not sliced off this time, briefly seared, 30 or so seconds on the first side, 15 or a little more on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter whatsoever) enameled cast iron oval pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until quite hot, the swordfish seasoned with local Long Island sea salt, also from P.E. & D.D., and freshly ground black pepper as it was turned, then removed and arranged on warm plates, the heat reduced to medium, a tablespoon or so of olive oil added, and slices (2cm) of one garlic scape from Phillips Farms placed inside and sautéed until softened, followed by 10 or so halved, very ripe golden cherry tomatoes from Quarton Farm, which were pushed around inside the pan briefly, the new contents of the pan then arranged on and around the swordfish, and both finished with a squeeze of a small organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea While Foods Market, garnished with some roughly chopped fresh epazote from Jayne’s TransGenerational Farm


two Sikkim cucumbers (20 ounces total) from Gopal Farm, which is very new and very welcome addition to the Union Square Greenmarket, unpeeled, sliced less than an inch thick (2 centimeters), placed inside a large heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, sautéed over a medium-high flame, turning at least once, each side sprinkled with sea salt after it had begun to carbonize, and, well into that process, one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a pinch of a now-powdered dried golden orange habanada pepper olive oil were added to the pan and the onions softened, the mix arranged on the plates when done, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with dill flowers from Quarton Farm

the wine was an Italian (Marche/Matelica) white, Verdicchio di Matelica D.O.C., from Philippe Wines

the music was the album, ‘Musici da camera: Music from Eighteenth-Century Prague’, Jana Semerádová conducting the Collegium Marianum, including the bassoonist Sergio Azzolin

duck breast, epazote; peppers, scapes, red onion; melon

It seemed like these peppers could have been grown just to accompany this duck, or perhaps the other way around.

Also, they were both assertive in both texture and flavor, so there wasn’t much else to add. I’m glad I forgot about the micro greens at the end; the plate was both complex enough and colorful enough without them.

  • one 13-ounce Macelleria duck breast from Flatiron Eataly, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Long Island sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing in an oval plate for about 45 minutes, then pan-fried, fatty side down first, in a scant amount of olive oil inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, normally for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once and draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat could be strained and used in cooking at another time, if desired), removed when medium rare, or maybe even a bit less, since it will continue cooking while sitting on the counter, cutting the breast crosswise into 2 portions and checking that the center for the right doneness, left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a squeeze of an organic Mexican lemon from Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with a bit of very fresh and fragrant chopped epazote from Jayne’s TransGenerational Farm, and drizzled with a little Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market

  • ten ounces of ‘lunchbox peppers’ from Campo Rosso Farm, halved or quartered, depending on their size, the seeds and membranes removed (there were very few of either), sautéed over a high flame until slightly caramelized, one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm added near the end, a little later still the white section of 2 small some chopped scallions from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street Saturday Greenmarket plus a pinch of the now powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper I had purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017, and local sea salt and chopped zaatar [actually, origanum syriacum] from TransGenerational Farm, the vegetables arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more of the ‘oregano’ and drizzled with a bit of balsamic vinegar
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) red, Erath Oregon pinot noir 2016, ordered directly from Erath

There was fruit for dessert. No fussy.

  • one perfectly ripe halved medium size Korean melon drizzled with lemon juice and sprinkled with a little salt

 

eggs, epazote; tomato, lovage; bacon, dark cornbread

Especially compared to my usual Sunday practice, the herbs and spices were pretty minimal yesterday at lunch, but the epazote was a star on the eggs.

And the new bread was scrumptious.

The meal introduced something else new to our table: A local, ‘European style'(cultured) 86% butterfat butter (that is to say, 12 of the 14 grams in each tablespoon is fat, while almost other American butters have only 11 grams per tablespoon) made by Vermont Creamery, in Websterville, Vermont, from milk provided by the St. Albans Cooperative  Creamery in St Albans (and yeah, the packaging is recycled paper).

  • four slices of thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm’s pastured pigs, fried slowly over low heat inside a large enameled cast iron skillet, turning occasionally, removed while they were still juicy and before they had become crisp, set aside on paper toweling to drain, then after adding a little butter to the pan, frying until their whites had barely set 6 very fresh eggs from Millport Dairy Farm pastured chickens, seasoning them with local sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, sprinkling chopped fresh epazote from the Greenmarket’s TransGenerational Farm on top, arranged on the plates with sautéed slices of a medium green heirloom tomato from Quarton Farm, also seasoned with salt and pepper, but in its case garnished with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, bacon, eggs, and tomato accompanied by slices, not toasted, of an extraordinary loaf of dark corn and wheat loaf, ‘Homadama’ (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime), with a taste delightfully redolent of a sturdy fresh corn on the cob, from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co., which fortunately for New Yorkers, sets up a table in the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesdays and Fridays
  • the music was Leopold Anton Kozeluch’s 1787 oratorial, ‘Moisè In Egitto’, Hermann Max conducting the Rheinische Kantorei and Das Kleine Konzert

finocchiona, arugula; chitarra, garlic, chili, anchovy, parsley

It was a return to a pretty simple, pretty authentically (mostly southern) Italian meal last night, something that has been missing from our table for a while. No fancy extras anywhere in sight.

I knew it would be a pasta night, sitting between fish and meat-dominated dinners, and I had decided to include a first course of some form of salumi. and Barry suggested something really simple to follow it. What we came up with could have been more simple, but could hardly have been more Italian.

We began with an antipasto that was entirely local, except for the olive oil and the black pepper.

  • two ounces, thinly sliced, of a luscious local finocchiona-style sausage, ‘Finochiona’ (pork, salt, red wine, spices, garlic, evaporated cane juice, celer extract, lactic acid starter culture) from Rico and Jill of Walnut Hill Farm in Pawlet, Rutland County, Vermont, which now sells at the Union Square Greenmarket on Fridays (the sausage is made in collaboration with Jacuterie, an artisanal charcuterie company south of them, in Ancramdale, Columbia County, New York
  • handfuls of baby arugula from TransGenerational Farm, dressed with good olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (a Koroneiki varietal), Hania, from Crete, purchased at the Chelsea Whole Foods Market, a bit of white balsamic vinegar, local sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper
  • slices of some extraordinary bread, ‘Homadama’ (wheat , corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime), from Lost Bread Co.

  • nine ounces of Afeltra spaghetti chitarra from Eataly Flatiron, boiled, but only until still pretty firmly al dente, then tossed with a sauce made of 2 large plump and still a bit juicy ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves from TransGenerational Farm, roughly chopped, cooked in less than a quarter of a cup of olive oil over low-to-medium heat until softened and only beginning to brown, after which 2 well-rinsed salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market were mashed into the oil and a very judicial pinch of crushed dried and quite hot ‘Diavvoletti Rossi’ Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia added, along with several tablespoons of chopped parsley from Phillips Farms, and a few tablespoons of the pasta water, everything simmered for a few minutes, reducing the liquid slightly, and once the pasta was added to the pot, the heat turned up slightly and the entire mix stirred together for a couple of minutes, or until the pasta was done to taste and most of the liquid emulsified, when it was placed in shallow bowls and sprinkled with another few tablespoons of parsley
  • the wine was an Italian (Tuscany/Maremma) white, Santa Margherita Vermentino 2017, from Philippe Wines
  • the music was an album of works for small ensembles by Leopold Anton Kozeluch, performed by Consortium Classicum 

shishito; roasted squid, baby corn on the cob with epazote

I love corn, in almost any form. While that goes for corn on the cob as well, I hate the messy process involved in eating it (I put it in the same category as boiled lobster: best consumed while sitting on sand, preferably rocks, on the ocean, preferably Aquidneck Island).

And then there’s corn where the entire cob can be eaten at the table with a knife and fork, since it’s only about 4 inches long, and completely tender.

But before we got to that treat last night I sautéed a different green vegetable, which also, incidentally, from the same young farmers as the corn.

  • two large handfuls of shishito peppers from Alewife Farm, washed, drained, dried, then sautéed over medium high heat in a broad 13″ cast iron pan for a few minutes, stirring and turning, seasoned with Phil Karlin’s P.E. & D.D. Seafood Long Island Sound local sea salt, arranged on plates, with more salt added to taste
  • slices of a She Wolf Bakery ‘miche’

I was able to do most of the preparation for the main course before we sat down to the peppers.

  • after the oven had been heated to 400º (while it was a warm humid night, I would only have to use it for 5 minutes, and our new AC system is able to cope with that), exactly one pound of very fresh cleaned squid from Pura Vida Seafood Company, bodies and tentacles, rinsed and very carefully dried, were quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until hot, the cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and once the oil itself had become quite hot, the mollusks were immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a small crushed section of a small ‘Diavvoletti RossiCalabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, and a pinch of the now powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper I had purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017 (and it’s still awesome), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 full tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market Mexican lemon and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside the hot oven and the squid roasted for just 5 minutes, by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, after which they were removed and arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices from a footed glass sauce boat
  • some micro ‘Hong Vit‘ Asian radish greens from Windfall Farms arranged next to the squid

 

herb-roasted striped bass; grilled tomato, dill; green beans

For a while at least, this may become my favorite recipe for a very favorite fish. Lately I’ve wanted to prepare it on top of the range, and when it works, it ends up with an attractive and delicious crispy skin, but until I can manage to do it well each time, and without the anxiety, I’m going to feel better about putting the bass in the oven, after first dressing it a bit at leisure, and then just forgetting about it until they need a quick finish, one that requires absolutely no skill.

Last night it was also totally luscious.

Going this route will be particularly handy with guests, as I’ve already learned.

one thick Striped Bass fillet (a total of 13 ounces) from American Seafood Company, washed, drained, brought to room temperature, divided into 2 sections by cutting down the middle, arranged skin side down on the bottom of a small glazed terra cotta pan resting on a coating of about 2 teaspoons of olive oil, scattered with a mixture of chopped fresh herbs, specifically, ‘za’atar’, or, technically, origanum syriacum, from TransGenerational Farm; thyme and spearmint from Stokes Farm; and lovage from Keith’s Farm, plus one partially-crumbled bay leaf purchased while fresh, from Westside Market [alternatively almost any fresh herb or combination of herbs could be used in this recipe], seasoned with Phil Karlin’s P.E. & D.D. Seafood Long Island Sound sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sprinkled with some of my homemade dry bread crumbs and drizzled with a little olive oil, placed inside a 425º oven for approximately 25 minutes, removed when done, sprinkled with a bit of the chopped heavenly herb, epazote, also from TransGenerational Farm, and arranged on the plates, squeezed with the juice of a small organic Mexican lemon from Whole Foods and drizzled with olive oil

three beautiful yellow plum tomatoes from Stokes Farm, halved, dried, and rubbed cut side down on a plate scattered with some sea salt and black pepper, pan grilled inside a medium size enameled cast iron ribbed pan until slightly softened and marked by the pan, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a tiny bit of white balsamic vinegar, then some olive oil, and garnished with scissored dill flowers from Willow Wisp Farm

a few ounces of hand-picked haricots verts from Samascott Orchards in Kinderhook, NY, left whole, blanched until barely tender, drained, and dried in the same large antique Pyrex Flameware pot in which they had cooked, now over a low flame, shaking, then set aside inside until the rest of the entrée was just about finished, when they were reheated in a little oil inside a heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, finished with salt and black pepper

the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines

the music was Lully’s 1684 opera, ‘Amadis’, with an interesting libretto involving “chivalric romance and the doings of gods and goddesses” on an obscure subject suggested by his patron, Louis le Grand, performed by Christophe Rousset leading Van Wanroij, Tauran, Perruche, 
Bennani; Auvity, Arnould, Crossley-Mercer; Chamber Chorus of Namur, Les Talens Lyriques, Rousset