Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’ or Sea/Ocean Trout). I’ve written it before: We love this fish.

I seem to have prepared it 3 times, in 3 different sizes, in the first post calling it ‘Weakfish’ but eventually I tagged it Squeteague, mostly out of my fondness for coastal New England and its Narragansett heritage [Narragansett: pesukwiteag, meaning ‘they give glue’, because glue is made from them (or was)].

I had originally planned on accompanying the fillets with fiddleheads alone, but when I had spread the furled fronds on the counter, I realized there really weren’t enough of them for that major role, and I reached for the basket where I had been storing some blue potatoes for over a month.

The first picture is of some of the fishmonger’s buckets, as I found them in the Greenmarket, under a scuffed plexi lid, showing, clockwise from the top left, cod, scallops, mackerel, and Squeteague.

The second shot is of some of the farmer’s foraged fiddleheads.

The third, of the blue potatoes, may look familiar: I’ve used the same shot before. I picked up the tubers at the Greenmarket on March 31, and I included a majority of them in the meal I prepared that night.

• two 8-ounce fillets of Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’ or Sea/Ocean Trout) from Blue Moon Fish Company, marinated for about half an hour on the counter in a mix of a little olive oil, one minced garlic clove from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and 11 different herbs (yeah, I went overboard, especially just one would have actually been enough), including one large crushed fresh bay leaf from West Side Market, rosemary, chives, and oregano from Stokes Farm, sage from S. & S.O. Produce Farm, parsley from Norwich Meadows farm, mint from Phillips Farm, thyme from Eataly, lovage and cilantro from Windfall Farms, dill from Bodhitree Farm, after which the fillets were drained, sautéed or fried for about 2 minutes inside a lightly-oiled (one tablespoon), tin-lined heavy oval copper pan which had been pre-heated to medium-hot, skin-slide down first, then turned and cooked for another minute, arranged on the plates, the juices drizzled on top, garnished with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms [I had originally intended to put the amaranth on the potatoes, but I realized at the last moment that they might almost disappear in their blue-purple hue)
• three ‘blue potatoes’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Pyrex glass pot, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
• one small basket of fiddlehead ferns from Tamarack Hollow Farm, blanched for 3 or 4 minutes, drained, dried, briefly sautéed with chopped wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm that had already been warmed, and some chopped thyme from Eataly, finished with a squeeze of juice from a sweet local lemon form Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Domaine Vincent Giraudon Primavera Côte Roannaise 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault 
• the music was the album, ‘1700 – The Century of the Portuguese‘ (we are going to be in Portugal and Galicia in late may and early June, and had just finished watching

Dinner for two, assembled quickly last night (May 4) after a long day at an art fair.

• between one and two tablespoons of olive oil heated slowly inside a large high-sided tin-lined heavy copper pan with a crushed piece of dark habanada pepper, and a handful of wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm, the garlic not allowed to cook fully, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, joined by half a dozen or so halved Kalamata olives olives from Whole Foods Market and a handful of pine nuts which had been slowly heated and browned earlier inside a small well-seasoned cast iron pan, a 10-ounce package of frozen Rana portobello-mushroom-and-ricotta-filled ravioli from Eataly, boiled inside a large pot of well-salted water for 2 minutes and drained, slipped into the copper pan and mixed well with the sauce, everything stirred together over a low flame, along with some of the reserved pasta water (in order to emulsify the liquid), mixed with chopped lovage from Windfall Farms, the pasta then arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, some olive oil drizzled on top and around the edges, the dish finished with a little micro coriander from Windfall Farms
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, made with the Portuguese Touriga grape, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Touriga 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Franz Schmidt’s Symphony No. 2, Semyon Bychkov conducting the Vienna Philharmonic

As I wrote in my first outing with this original, we love our local Sfoglini pasta. On Tuesday I prepared a meal using the second half of a package of their Bronx brewery BxB radiators.

• 8 ounces of Sfoglini Pasta Shop‘s Bronx brewery BxB radiators (“spent grain from Bronx Rye Pale Ale, which is comprised of five different barley malts, resulting in a roasted barley finish”, according to the maker), carefully boiled to ‘safe territory’, that is, something between ‘too hard’ and ‘too mushy’, drained, tossed inside a large tin-lined heavy tall-sided copper pan in which a simple sauce had been created by warming two ramp bulbs from Max Creek Hatchery, chopped, with a bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia until the alliums had mostly softened and given off a gentle aroma, before some upland cress from Paffenroth Gardens and the roughly-chopped green leaves of most of a bunch of ramps (Max Creek Hatchery) were added and stirred over a low to medium flame until barely wilted, with some reserved pasta water to emulsify the sauce, seasoned with a little salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, divided into 2 shallow bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta, some Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly slivered over the top
• the wine was an Austrian (Kremstal) white, Steinig Grüner Veltliner Austria 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was from the album, ‘C. P. E. Bach: Symphonies & Concertos‘

Both parts of this meal were roasted. It’s a cooking process I won’t want to work with very often as the weather warms, but it has a lot going for it.

I don’t know that porgy has a season as such, but asparagus, or at least the best asparagus does. This was the best asparagus.

I normally go very easy on accoutrements for this noble vegetable, but I loosened my own constraints this time in order to add ramps, plus a few branches of thyme, to moderate the more exuberant tendencies of the these wonderful spring alliums, although these ‘wood leeks’ are actually pretty mild.

Rather than purchasing asparagus bunches already assembled by the farmer, I like ‘picking’ my own, in order to get a consistent size, and also, I suppose, to feel just a wee bit closer to the earth. Besides, I’m keeping some rubber band alive a little longer. I’d say they also look prettier that way for their portrait.

It was the best asparagus I’ve ever had, but who knows what that means? I know I’m at least safe in saying so, because I can’t actually be proven wrong.

As for the treatment of the fish, there was only one herb, some breadcrumbs, and a little lemon. I added a garnish of purple micro greens at the end, for a refreshing, raw element, but also to introduce a third color to the plates.

The fillets were therefore not disguised, and they were delicious – as fish, which is a good thing.

• two 7-ounce porgy fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, scored with several very shallow slashes on the skin side, to prevent curling, put into a tin-lined copper au gratin dish, skin side down, sprinkled with chopped dill from Phillips Farm (although almost any fresh herb would do as well), sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, some homemade dry bread crumbs scattered lightly on top, and a bit of olive oil drizzled over all, placed in a 425º oven for about 12-15 minutes, removed, arranged on plates, drizzled with juice from a sweet local lemon grown by Dave at Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and finished with purple radish micro greens from Windfall Farms
• fourteen stalks (a little over a pound) of moderately-thick green asparagus spears from John D. Madera Farm, trimmed, the stems peeled, mixed with the white sections of 14 ramps from Dave of Max Creek Hatchery, rolled with a handful of thyme branches from Eataly in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 15 to 20 minutes, with 6 or 8 green ramp leaf sections, roughly-chopped, thrown onto the top just before they had finished cooking, removed to 2 plates and drizzled with more of the juice from the local lemon used on the porgy
• the wine was an Austrian (Kremstal) white, Steinig Grüner Veltliner Austria 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was the album of contemporary chamber music, ‘Light-distance: Portuguese Wind Quintets‘

Sole is what many folks think of when they think of heavenly fish. It is heavenly, but I think its most empyrean aspect may be its texture. Yeah, divine, and I think the northwest Atlantic gray sole may be the finest of all.

We enjoyed it once again this past Friday night (April 28), in almost the simplest preparations imaginable.

• four 3-and-a-half-ounce gray sole fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, dried thoroughly, salted and brushed with a good white wine vinegar, sautéed in a olive oil and a bit of butter, turning once, then removed to 2 plates, the pan wiped with a paper towel before 2 or 3 tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter, 2 tablespoons or so of juice from a Fantastic Gardens of Long Island sweet local lemon, and a bit of micro fennel from Windfall Farms were introduced and allowed to heat for a minute or so, that sauce spread onto the sole, which was served with lemon quarters

• nearly a pound of small Red Norland Potatoes from Berried Treasures, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Pyrex glass pot, rolled in a little butter, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, sprinkled with scissored chives from Stokes Farm, finished on the plates with a bit of with a small amount of homemade breadcrumbs (browned earlier in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt)

• flowering kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, drained, and braised/wilted inside a large, heavy, tin-lined copper pot in which two garlic cloves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had been allowed to sweat over low heat in a little olive oil, the dish finished with a bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, and a drizzle of olive oil
• The wine was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lodi) white, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2016, by Alexandra Farber, from Naked Wines
• the music was Anton Bruckner’s 1863-1869 Symphony No ‘0’, Riccardo Chailly conducting Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra