It was one of the 6 anniversaries as a couple which we celebrate each year (yeah, ‘6‘!), in this case the 24th anniversary of what we refer to, somewhat discreetly, as the night of ‘the Magic meal’.

The meal had to be special, but when I was planning it we didn’t expect our oven would be again be operational by that day, so that ruled out the baked pasta from the original menu of over two decades before, which was Johanne Killeen and George Germon’s Conchiglie al Forno, with shiiatake mushrooms, a head of radicchio, 3 (or 4) different cheeses, cream, and some fresh sage.

I consulted the muse, and when Barry suggested going with a good steak, I realized the rest of the meal was going to be just as easy as the featured player.

Meanwhile, I had been seduced by the color of the beet pasta spotted inside a display counter near the door of a pasta shop I passed on my way to Dickson’s Farmstand, so I realized that would take care of the first course, and it also made a second contorno unnecessary, allowing me to concentrate on the steak, and the celtuce which I had found at the Greenmarket the day before. The color of the pasta was more subdued, as I expected, after it had been cooked, but the taste was not.

• six ounces of beet fusilione (large-scale corkscrew) dry pasta from the small Rana Pastificio store in the Chelsea Market, briefly boiled, until al dente, drained, swirled around in several tablespoons of good butter, seasoned, served in low bowls and sprinkled with freshly-grated Parmesan cheese
• the celebratory wine, enjoyed both before and during this first course, was a delicious New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling, Gruet Blanc de Noirs 

 

• one 14.5 ounce New York strip steak from Dixon’s Farmstand, brought to room temperature, dried with paper towels, pan grilled for 4 or 5 minutes on each side, scattered with a little sea salt and freshly-ground Telicherry pepper (once it had been turned over), divided into two pieces and removed to warm plates, drizzled with a little ramp butter (ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, quickly par-boiled, dried and chopped, mixed with softened butter, organic lemon zest and juice, salt, and pepper, then placed in the refrigerator until ready to be used)
• the very small stems of a ‘head’ of celtuce from Lani’s Farm (far smaller than the last time I prepared this vegetable), the ‘stalks’ cut into 2-inch sections and very quickly par-boiled, then dried, minced and rolled in a little butter over a moderate flame for a minute or two, along with some wild garlic, also from Lani’s Farm, followed by the celtuce leaves which had been torn off of the stems earlier, washed several times and drained, both stems and leaves served on plates with a sprinkling of pine nuts which had earlier been heated in a cast iron pan until they had begun to brown
• the wine was a Washington (Columbia Valley) red, Katy Michaud Cabernet Sauvignon Columbia Valley 2013
• the music on this very frustrating New York State primary day was some delightful early 18th-century country music composed by Joseph-bodin De Boismortier, ‘Divertissements De Campagne’

Sitting down to the first course, because the pasta looked so small in that broad shallow bowl, I felt as if I was in the kind of fancy restaurant we seldom visit.

There was this primi, because there was some of a delicious pasta e ceci remaining from a few days before, because I knew it would still be very good, and because it would let me assemble a main course that might also be pretty minimal. I’m definitely understanding the Italian attraction for the antepasti, primi, secundi, contorni, formaggi, dolci thing, but, yeah, who has the time these days?

• the pasta was some of the sturdy chick pea creation we had enjoyed on Saturday

• the main course was prepared with 7 small skate wings from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, about 14 ounces altogether, coated on both sides with a coarse polenta which had been seasoned with salt and pepper, sautéed in olive oil (and a bit of butter) for a very few minutes (about 7), turning once, removed, the pan wiped with a paper towel, 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter, chopped ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and one sliced garlic clove from Whole Foods introduced into it and stirred over a lowered flame, followed by the addition of a little more butter (1 1/2 tablespoons), juice from half of an organic lemon, and a mix of mostly chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge and a little chopped parsley from Eataly
• tender collard greens from Lani’s Farm, washed, drained, and braised very lightly in a heavy pot in which two halved garlic cloves from Whole Foods had been allowed to sweat in some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine throughout was a French (Rhône) rosé, Côtes du Rhône Parallèle 45 2013, from Philippe Liquors
• the music throughout  was that of Antoine Forqueray, his amazing ‘Pieces de viole‘

It was Trifolati rognon e rabe broccoli brasato, to put an Italian point on it, but they hung out with an American wine.

• four lamb kidneys (10 ounces total) from 3-Corner Field Farm, gently sautéed in butter (in this case inside a new tin-lined 8-inch copper pan) until brown all over on the outside but still very rare in the center, removed and kept warm while introducing into the pan one large sliced garlic clove from Whole Foods, cooking it for one minute, adding less than a quarter cup of  dry vermouth, reducing the liquid by half over high heat while quickly slicing the kidneys, removing the pan from the flame and slowly swirling into it 2 tablespoons of chilled butter, salt, and freshly-ground Telicherry pepper, returning the sliced kidneys and all of their juices to the pan and briefly warming them in the sauce, sprinkling sauce and kidneys with a generous amount of chopped parsley from Eataly, warming that mix over very low heat for a minute or two, plating the finished dish next to a small serving of slightly-wilted arugula rabe from Alewife Farm
• young, tender broccoli rabe from from Migliorelli Farm, wilted in olive oil flavored with bruised garlic from Whole Foods, seasoned with salt and pepper, put onto two plates and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) red, Karen Birmingham 2013 Merlot
• the music was from the Eighth Blackbird album, ‘Hand Eye‘, featuring compositions by Timo Andres, Andrew Norman, Robert Honstein, Christopher Cerrone, Ted Hearn, and Jacob Cooper

We’ve already enjoyed the basic recipe for this luscious pasta twice.  But I’ve never before had the privilege of welcoming foraged garlic mustard greens into my kitchen; last night this dish became the medium. I decided to mix most of them into the pasta at the very end of the cooking, and sprinkle a few of the most tender shoots on the top once the mix had been introduced into two bowls.

We’re not likely to be the only Greenmarket patrons who would like  to thank Alewife Farm for collecting these wonderful greens, and also for another, almost equally stunning market innovation, arugula rabe, which starred in an entrée the night before. I’m looking forward to more surprises from these folks, and from so many other farmers I visit each week.

• 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 2 medium cloves of chopped garlic from Whole Foods, 2 generously-sized rosemary sprigs from Stokes Farm, and 4 rinsed and fileted salted anchovies from Buon Italia, briefly sautéed inside a large non-reactive pot until the anchovies had broken up, a 16-ounce can of San Marzano tomatoes (already-chopped or whole, and ideally without basil), with the juices, added and cooked for 10 minutes, crushing with a wooden spoon if the tomatoes are whole, salt added to taste, the heat increased and a can of good chick peas, with their liquid, poured in, along with about 2 cups of good chicken broth or water, and a third sprig of rosemary, everything brought to a soft boil before half a pound of Setaro ‘nodi marini‘ from Buon Italia was added (alternatively, some other small pasta, like farfalle or a small penne or rigatoni can be used), the heat now reduced to a healthy simmer until the pasta was cooked al dente and the broth thick, while stirring frequently (this may take half an hour), adding more liquid if necessary, stirring in most of a quarter pound of washed foraged garlic mustard greens from Alewife Farm before lifting the finished pasta into bowls, where it was drizzled with a little olive oil, scattered with the remaining (selected, smaller greens) and sprinkled with good grated Parmesan cheese from Buon Italia [the basic recipe for the pasta comes from food52.com, but I have altered or annotated it here, mostly to reflect my own experience]
• the wine was an Italian (Piedmont) red, Poderi Roset Dolcetto d’Alba 2013
• the gorgeous music was Christopher Cerrone’s ‘Invisible Cities’: An invisible opera for wireless headphones’

and flowers too

 

I had never heard of arugula rabe before stopping by Alewife Farm on Saturday, and I can’t find much that is useful on line, but maybe all we really have to know is the name, which simply means ‘sprouted arugula’. It’s beautiful and it’s delicious (and it’s not broccoli).

The assignment was to cook a handsome filet of cod without using the oven (which is awaiting service), and I actually had some choice, even if the word ‘roast’ appears in almost all of the recipes in my files. Mark Bittman’s ‘Classic Sautéed’, included on this page (where I had previously only borrowed ideas from the ‘Roasted’ section), did not. Because of its simplicity, knowing that it would show off the virtues of a great fish, both local and freshly caught, I went with it.

• one single 17-ounce filet of cod from Pura Vida Seafood, divided into two portions (only for a little more ease in turning), lightly dredged in coarse stone-ground flour, then dipped into a mixture of one large beaten egg from Millport Dairy and half of a cup of chopped parsley from Eataly, sautéed over medium-high heat in a mix of olive oil and ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ (one tablespoon each), turning once, for about 6 minutes, garnished with chopped lovage from Two Guys From Woodbridge, drizzled with a little lemon juice
• four wonderfully sweet Norland red potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, scrubbed and boiled unpeeled, quartered, tossed with some of the Kerrygold butter, salt, pepper, wild garlic from Lani’s Farm (previously softened in a little butter, and winter savory from Stokes Farm
• arugula rabe (yes, arugula rabe) from Alewife Farm braised in a heavy pot with a little olive oil in which a single halved clove of garlic from Whole Foods had begun to brown, then seasoned with salt and pepper, drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a French (Bordeaux) white, Château Lamothe de Haux Bordeaux Blanc 2014, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was Aulis Sallinen: Symphony No. 2, and Symphony No. 4 (‘Dialogue for Percussion solo and Orchestra’, with Martin Orraryd, percussion), and the Horn Concerto (Esa Tapani, french horn), all three works with Ari Rasilainen directing the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra 

This was actually a very simple meal, put on the table very quickly, even allowing for some time with an incredibly minimal marinade.

• two  very fresh inch-and-a-quarter-thick swordfish steaks (off of the F/V Bookie, out of the Hamptons) from Blue Moon Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated for less than a half hour in a mixture of olive oil and fresh oregano from Stokes Farm (the last of a bunch which I had been able to keep fresh in the refrigerator since last fall), then drained well, covered with a coating of dried homemade bread crumbs, pan-fried over medium-high heat  for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, removed, salted, sprinkled with a little lemon juice and some colorful  ‘Hong Vit‘ micro Asian purple radish greens from Windfall Farms, fish and ‘greens’ finished with a drizzle of olive oil before serving
• kale from Alewife Farm, sautéed in olive oil in which 2 small cloves of garlic from Whole Foods had first been allowed to sweat and begin to brown, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a dash of more olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Insolia 2013, from Philippe Wine in Chelsea, located about 50 yards from our front door, and therefore sort of ‘local’
• the music was the entire album. ‘Frederick The Great – Music For The Berlin Court’, performed by the Academy for Ancient Music Berlin (only moments before we had finally determined the exact dates of our May and June idyll in Berlin, der Hauptstadt des alten Fritz.

We enjoyed a simple and leisurely cheese course, with thin slices of a Balthazar rye boule, and the remainder of the wine.

• the music was from a beautiful album of works by Johann Gottlieb Graun (1702–1771), a Brandenburg-born composer appointed to the court of the young Prussian prince years before Frederick became king, where he remained throughout his reign, as concertmaster, chamber musician, and director of the strings of the royal opera orchestra; Graun wrote 60 concertos for the violin alone, his own instrument as a virtuoso, over 100 symphonies, other concertos, and a great deal of chamber music

filet after being rubbed with the sugar and spices, before it was refrigerated

 

Thinking of the arguable thesis that an artist’s best work may often arise from working with constraints, I will make the modest proposal that the same thing can work for the creative output of an ordinary cook.

I was unable to get to the Greenmarket on Monday to pick up some fish, so we enjoyed a pasta that night. The next day, not wanting to cook meat or another pasta, I decided to check out the wild salmon selection at Whole Foods. I would have to cook it on the top of the stove, since our oven is ailing, but I knew that was unlikely to present much of a problem, especially since I had just come across a very interesting Melissa Clark recipe which described pan-grilling the fish after it had rested in a spicy brown-sugar marinade. The salmon was not on sale, as it often is, but the wild Coho filets were being offered at what I would call a pretty reasonable price.

I still had a small amount of the red cabbage we had been enjoying for a week or so, and there was a generous amount of upland cress in the crisper waiting to be summoned to embellish a worthy plate.

Finally, still worried that what I had in mind wouldn’t quite add up to a complete meal, I decided to boil a very few potatoes as a foil for the other flavors I had gathered. Because of my introducing the potatoes, the excellent small Balthazar rye boule, which I had bought that day to fill out what I had earlier anticipated would be a pretty sparse course, stayed in the breadbox instead.

The meal turned out to be far more satisfying than I had hoped it might be.

If it had a geographic character, I would say that it lay somewhere between the German-speaking lands of Central Europe and the Pacific Northwest of the North American continent. Maybe New York City.

• one section of a Coho salmon filet (13.2 oz) from Whole Foods, marinated for about 6 hours in a mix of turbinado sugar, sea salt, freshly ground tellicherry pepper, freshly ground allspice, freshly ground nutmeg in lieu of the mace Clark had specified (the only mace in the kitchen had already been ground, probably over 30 yearsa ago, and had sat inside an antique tin container ever since, through 2 removes from since its purchase in Rhode Island), and the zest of half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods
• red cabbage remaining from being prepared earlier 5 days before for an earlier meal and one one which had succeeded it
• upland cress from Alewife Farm, dressed with some good Umbrian olive oil, a little white balsamic vinegar, salt, and pepper
• four sweet Norland red potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, scrubbed and boiled unpeeled, then halved, tossed with sweet butter, salt, pepper, and chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) red, Argyle Pinot Noir 2013
• the music was Kalevi Aho’s Symphony No. 8, and his ‘Pergamon’, the Lahti Symphony Orchestra conducted by Osmo Vänskä, Hans-Ola Ericsson, organ

I’ve cooked this simple dish many times, and it’s shown up on this blog three times before. It never fails to satisfy whatever either of us was looking for in a meal at the moment; usually it was when we didn’t have the time or patience to come up with something more complicated.

• approximately 8 ounces of Afeltra spaghettone, from Eataly, boiled, but only until still pretty firmly al dente, tossed inside the same pot in which it had cooked with a very savory sauce (created with 4 plump garlic cloves from Whole Foods, roughly chopped, cooked in about a third of a cup of olive oil over low-medium heat until softened and beginning to brown, 3 salted anchovies, well-rinsed, added to the pan and mashed with a wooden spoon, a tablespoon of Mediterranean organic wild capers in brine (from a Providence, RI distributor), rinsed and drained, half of one dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia), along with several tablespoons of chopped parsley from Eataly, an equal amount of chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and a little of the reserved pasta water, then simmered for another minute or so while the sauce was both emulsified and slightly reduced, the mix distributed in two bowls and sprinkled with another few tablespoons of parsley and lovage
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2013
• the music was the remaining part of Aulis Sallinen’s, ‘The King Goes Forth To France’, the scenes which we were unable to hear during dinner the night before.

I love cucumbers. And thanks to Martha Stewart I’ve now discovered the sautéed cucumber. I took some liberties with her recipe however, in consideration of the vegetable materials I had on hand, and my own taste: I had 3 small Korean cucumbers, I cooked the chunks until they had begun to brown, and I finished them with lovage.

The cabbage was left over from an earlier meal, and tasted even better than it had the first time.

The pork was from a new Greenmarket source, one which happened to have the smaller-size chops I’ve had difficulty finding lately. I used the same recipe I’ve used for years, but since my oven is currently unavailable, I cooked them on top of the stove in a heavy enameled cast iron pot. I think I should have seared them a little longer before squeezing the half lemon over them and covering it: They turned out less than brown, but the flavor was terrific.

Since I’ve just pointed to the recipes or procedures, now I only have to list the ingredients:

• the pork chops, from Sawkill Farm, weighed just under 14 ounces altogether
• the cabbage ingredients were described here
• the 3 Korean cucumbers (totally 8.5 ounces) were from Lani’s Farm, and they were sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was roughly the firsthalf of an 1984 opera of Aulis Sallinen, ‘The King Goes Forth To France’, which begins, topically but with an entirely fantastical story, with the English royal court heading south to escape a future ice age (read the album notes!), Okko Kamu conducting the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra, the Tapiola Chamber Choir, and the Finnish Philharmonic Choir, with the soloists Riikka Rantanen, Jyrki Korhonen, Lilli Paasikivi,
  Mari Palo, Laura Nykänen, Herman Wallen, and Tommi Hakala

At first I thought I wouldn’t do a post of this meal, since the main course was simply a matter of re-heating a pasta we’d had a few days earlier (even if these leftovers always present their own pleasures), but the antipasta was new, and so delicious, I decided that I should ‘memorialize’ it, at least for the sake of my own files (that is, this blog).

The total amount of salumi used in both servings was less than 4 ounces (2 ounces on each plate), even though the image makes it look like quite a large portion. The copa was sliced very thin.

• the ‘copa spicy giorgio’ was from Eataly, and it may have ultimately come from Salumi Artisan Cured Meats, the company and meat shop/restaurant co-founded by Mario Batali’s father, Armandino
• it was accompanied by a little upland cress from Alewife Farm, dressed with some good Umbrian olive oil, a squeeze of lemon juice, salt, and pepper
• the bread was ‘Commune’, from Sullivan Street Bakery

• the pasta was what had been left from a dinner of a few day before, spaghetti alle vongole in bianco (spaghetti with clams), although we had finished the clams themselves on the first night; it was divided into two ceramic oven dishes and heated at 350º for less than 15 minutes (I usually try to get it to the point where the more exposed pieces of pasta have become a little brown and crunchy), sprinkled with chopped parsley from Eataly

 

• the wine through both courses was an Italian (Marche) white, Le Salse Verdicchio di Matelica 2014