Saturday was my first trip to the Union Square Greenmarket since the previous Monday. I celebrated by picking up some beautiful large scallops, giving them a kind of treatment, analogous but on a much simpler scale, to that Julia Child outlined in her version of ‘Tournedos Rossini’ (filet steaks with artichoke hearts, foie gras, truffles, and madeira sauce) 55 years ago (confession: I’ve prepared them myself, at least twice, although not in 40 years).

Last night, my own gilded-lilies, fresh local sea scallops, were, mercifully for the decency and self-respect of both crustaceans and diners, of the 21st century and not the 19th, more nouvelle cuisine than cuisine classique. The haute cuisine of the 20th century which was deconstructed in the 1960s had developed in the 1890s, largely based on the works of Auguste Escoffier. It was itself a reaction against and simplification of a previous, well-established tradition, one which also had been a response to a still earlier ‘school’ of cuisine, following a line which backward, past La Varenne and his patron Louis XIV, to renaissance Italy, then deep into the middle ages, ultimately stopping at imperial Rome (unless Persia is factored in).

Each of these historic shifts in the grand style of cooking could be described as an attempt to simplify ingredients, processes, and presentation. It also reflected the broadening of the ruling class and the rise of a middle class. I get all of that, and its pretty much where I myself am in the kitchen – and at the dining table – today.

The most recent developments in cookery transcend the long reign of the French convention, and center on an emphasis on local ingredients, of which this particular meal is a pretty good exemplar: With the exception of the olive oil, the salt, the peppercorns, and the wine, absolutely everything included in this meal came from the Greenmarket in Union Square, which hosts only local farmers, fishermen, and other suppliers.

One important aside: There’s no question that, especially the further we go back in time, only the wealthiest (or sometime privileged) were ever able to enjoy the delights which well-subsidized, very inventive chefs were able to create, and this is still pretty much the case today.

I’m fully aware that I’m only able to indulge my interest in and appetite for good food (good in every sense) and the ambience of a good place where it can be enjoyed because I have time, enough resources, a lot of interest in preparing it myself at home, and the perfect table partner and muse. These are conditions few people, even the wealthiest and most privileged, can easily arrange, but well worth the try.

• 10 thick sea scallops (12 ounces) from Seatuck Fish Company, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way, stuffed with a mixture of basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods, one medium-size clove of garlic from Stokes Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, chopped together very finely, removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, drained, then pan grilled about 2 minutes on each side, removed to 2 plates, garnished with purple micro radish from Windfall Farms, and one halved local [!] tiny lemon-lime (unidentified by variety) from David’s Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, placed in small cups on the side, drizzled over the scallops
• a mixture of 3 Japanese scallions and 2 habanada peppers, both from Norwich Meadows Farm, heated briefly in a little olive oil until fragrant and softened, arranged on the plates
• a modest amount of young yellow-flower purple mustard greens from Windfall Farms, wilted for only about 10 to 15 seconds in a little live oil in which one clove of sliced garlic from Stokes Farm had been allowed to sweat, a small amount of one yellow and one red hot pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm added just before the greens, then seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of oil

There was also cheese.

• a small slice of ‘Bigelow’ goat cheese from Ardith Mae
• finely-chopped portions of one yellow and one red hot pepper, both hot from Eckerton Hill Farm [augmented with a little olive oil after the picture was taken]
• toast from slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop

• the wine throughout was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout was Mozart’s 1782 opera, ‘Die Entführung aus dem Serail’, John Eliot Gardiner conducting the English Baroque Soloists and the Monteverdi Choir, with Stanford Olsen, Luba Orgonasova, Cyndia Sieden, Uwe Peper, et al. (I love the spoken dialogue, which is included in this performance and recording)

We expected to be away from home on Friday evening, so I had not gone to the Greenmarket. Instead I was prepared to quickly ‘compose’ a salad when we returned. We never left, but the composed salad remained our dinner nevertheless, followed by a cheese course.

• The ingredients were: some more of the colorful mixture of various chicories and tender greens which the folks of Campo Rosso Farm had presented to guests at a farm dinner at Untitled, tossed with sliced Japanese scallions and chopped habanada peppers, both from Norwich Meadows Farm; chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; torn basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods; chopped heirloom cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm; and a teaspoon of poppy seed, dressed with Maldon salt, freshly ground pepper, a good Campania olive oil, a small drizzle of organic lemon, then divided into bowls and topped with torn segments from a 3-ounce package of Blue Hill Farm smoked Alaskan sockeye salmon, from Murray’s Cheese
• slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2015
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 3, Giuseppe Sinopoli conducting the Dresden Staatskapelle

Yoeman service.

Because of our schedules lately, all of the meals I’ve recently prepared have had to be somewhat improvised, even a bit sketchy, and often involved leftovers, and what I call ‘hangers on’ (ingredients that have been around for a while and which I judge really should make it into a meal soon).

This time there was a fresh, unplanned guest: the beautiful contents of a ‘goody bag’ from our previous night’s outing at Untitled, the restaurant that’s a part of the new Whitney Museum.  The farmers around whose produce last night’s dinner was built, Chris Field and Jessi Okamoto, gave each of the dinner guests a selection of chicories and other greens from their vast lands (8 acres in eastern Pennsylvania) as each of us was leaving. We got 2 of them, so we will all be seeing some of their work on this site for a little while.

These meals at home have all been yeoman service, and are appreciated, but I’m actually getting physically and emotionally anxious after being absent so long from my other safe place, the Union Square Greenmarket, and from the pleasures of real cooking.

I’ll be visiting both tomorrow.

• two ounces of La Quercia Lomo, in thin slices (this cured pork tenderloin turns out to be more than just a Spanish thing, viz. lonza di maiale stagionata) from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very small amount of a very good olive oil, Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’
• served with a colorful mixture of various chicories and tender greens, a gift from the people of Campo Rosso Farm, dressed with Maldon salt, freshly ground pepper, the Campania olive oil, and a small drizzle of white balsamic vinegar
• slices of Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ boule ((here the word, ‘corn’ derived from ‘korn’, means grains or kernels, and it has usually meant rye grain in Jewish Eastern Europe), from Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market

The main course really was a straight leftover, and needed no updating; the pasta and its sauce having retained the sturdiness and rich savoriness that had not asked for anything extra a few nights before.

• leftover Sfoglini chestnut fusilli and its sauce, of red onion from Stokes Farm, rosemary branches from Stokes Farm, red cabbage from Tamarack Hollow Farm, a little balsamic vinegar, and a heatless Habanada pepper form Norwich Meadows Farm (I forgot to serve it with the freshly-grated Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia I had sprinkled on top the first time around

There was cheese.

• 3 Consider Bardwell Farm selections, ‘Manchester’, a medium-hard goat cheese‘, Experience’, a pasteurized, somewhat soft cow cheese, and ‘Pawlet’, a medium-hard cow cheese, served with toasts made from an Orwasher’s multigrain, seeded baguette

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Phillippe Wines
• the music throughout was Puccini’s ‘Turandot’, a performance of Francesco Molinari-Pradelli conducting the Rome Opera House Orchestra and Rome Opera House Chorus, with  Birgit Nilsson, Franco Corelli, Ida Farina, Renata Scotto, and others

In my head: The idea of a pasta came first, then the tomatoes, the prosciutto antipasto later, just before the pasta and tomatoes got some company, minutina was added to the prosciutto, along with bread, and then a few olives, and finally a bit of dried habanada pepper jumped into the pasta mix, altering its taste chemistry, and now we had a very satisfying meal.

I get the fantastic scent of these dried peppers just looking at this picture.

 

• The salumi was Colameco’s prosciutto (3 ounces), from Whole Foods; the minutina was from Norwich Meadows Farm, and both were drizzled with good olive oil and a squeeze of a small lemon grown locally by David of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, some pitted Kalamata olives from Whole Foods arranged between them; the bread was Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ boule (here the word, ‘corn’ derived from ‘korn’, means grains or kernels, and it has usually meant rye grain in Jewish Eastern Europe), from Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market
• the pasta was prepared much along the lines of this recipe, halving the amounts, using homemade breadcrumbs, parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm, Pecorino Romano from Buon Italia, lemon zest from one of David’s Fantastic Gardens of Long Island local lemons, Afeltra spaghettone, garlic from Stokes Farm, cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, but the major variation from the basic recipe was the introduction of a very small amount of crushed almost-but-not-quite-carbonized home-dried habanada pepper into the pot while warming the garlic and red pepper flakes in the olive oil, just before adding the tomatoes, giving the sauce a very subtle, slight smokiness
• the wine was an Italian (Toscana) white, Villa Antinori Bianco 2015
• the music was Handel’s 1721 opera, ‘Floridante, Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Roberta Invernizzi, Marijana Mijanovic, and Joyce DiDonato, among others

Very, very nice dish. Both of them.

I have to credit the addition of two small heatless habanada chilis for making this dish, one I’ve prepared a number of times , even more delicious than usual.

The vegetable side? I think I’m getting better, and just a little more creative, at dealing with this relative newcomer to American plates.

• one 17-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood at the Union Square Greenmarket, prepared more or less using a recipe from Mark Bittman which I originally came across almost 12 years ago: I washed and rinsed the fillet and cut it into three pieces, laying them on a bed of coarse sea salt, and adding more on top, until they were completely covered, then setting them aside while slicing, to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch about 14 ounces of Norland red potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, (purchased back on August 13th, and still in great shape), tossing them in a large bowl with 2 chopped heatless habanada peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm, a tablespoon of olive oil, salt, and pepper, arranging them, overlapping, inside a rectangular enameled cast iron pan, cooking them for 30 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender, meanwhile thoroughly immersing the cod in many changes of water in order to bring down the saltiness (incidentally the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which you will feel while handling it), draining and drying the two pieces before placing them inside the pan on top of the potatoes, topping the fillets with a little olive oil and scattering them with some freshly-ground pepper, returning the pan to the oven for 8 to 12 minutes (the time would depend on the thickness of the cod), removing the fish with a spatula (or, much better, 2 spatulas) along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought with each piece, and arranging all of it on 2 plates, returning with the remainder of the potatoes, sprinkling chopped parsley parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm and scattering purple micro beets from Two Guys from Woodbridge to finish the dish
• a Strauss of minutina (only a portion of a larger bouquet) from Lani’s Farm, washed, drained, then barely wilted, inside a large enamelled cast iron pot with a bit of olive oil, above a low-to-medium-hot flame, seasoned with salt and pepper, mixed with 8 pitted kalamata olives from Whole Foods, and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus Chardonnay 2014, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s ‘Alcina’, a fantastic performance with Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Kobie van Rensburg, Vito Priante, Joyce DiDonato, Sonia Prina, Karina Gauvin, Maité Beaumont, Laura Cherici, et al. [for a breathtaking glimpse of an early-18th-century world displaying more romantic warmth and passion than we have been told to expect, listen to Karina Gauvin singing the aria, ‘credete al mio dolore’, from the recording we heard last night]