I’m back, even though yesterday I had just said I didn’t have time to do these posts this week. You can ignore this one if you wish (although that probably wouldn’t be a good idea). I’m really only publishing it so that I can remember to do this preparation again.

It was really, really good. I’m calling it for the habanada peppers.

• eighteen medium scallops from the American Seafood Company stand in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, washed, drained and very thoroughly dried on paper towels, generously seasoned with salt and pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of organic Trader Joe’s lemon, arranged on the plates with a scattering of horizontally-sliced fresh habanada peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm and 8 halved sun gold tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm that had been softened, in succession, in a little olive oil inside a small Pyrex pan, finished with a sprinkling of chopped tarragon from Willow Wisp Farm and drizzled with some more olive oil

• one bunch of extraordinarily tender, very sweet flowering broccoli rabe from Echo Creek Farm, which also has a stand in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, wilted inside a large, heavy tin-lined copper pot with olive oil in which some very good red pepper flakes (remaining from the delivery of an excellent Waldy’s Wood Fired Pizza a few days earlier) had just been heated, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with olive oil
• sections broken off of an Orwashers white baguette, again, from their stand in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market (it was a very humid afternoon, and the crust had wilted, so I freshened the loaf just before dinner by heating it in the oven at 400º for 2 minutes)
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wines
• the music was Henry Purcell’s 1692 “semi-opera”, ‘The Fairy Queen’, Nikolaus Harnoncourt directing the Vienna Concentus Musicus and the Arnold Schoenberg Choir

Made in heaven, when we weren’t even paying that much attention.

This simple looking dish of pasta far exceeded both of our expectations.

I haven’t been posting on this blog lately, because we’ve been very busy trying to get the apartment ready for friends who will be staying here while we are in their Berlin apartment. I’m making an exception for last night’s meal, because it was extraordinarily good (the flavors amazingly balanced), because it was pretty much an accident (I mostly trying to just put together something for dinner using fresh supplies that were otherwise going to be wasted), and because it was very much a collaboration with Barry (there was a real conversation throughout its development).

If you have access to the ingredients, and if you can take a few minutes to reproduce what we did, you will probably never forget this meal. If it helps, I can’t imagine why almost any smoked fish wouldn’t work just as well as the monkfish that I happened to have in the refrigerator.

• part of one medium-size leek from Hawthorne Valley Farm, thinly-sliced, and a small sliced shallot from Trader Joe’s Market sautéedin 4 ounces of olive oil inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pan for 4 minutes, the juice from 2 small Trader Joe’s organic lemons added and the pan kept over heat for another 2 or 3 minutes, stirring, the flame then reduced to low and a pinch of sea salt, some very good red pepper flakes (remaining from the delivery of an excellent Waldy’s Wood Fired Pizza a few days earlier), plus 4 or 5 chopped fresh medium-size habanada peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm stirred into the sauce until both hot and sweet peppers had become pungent, 8 or 9 ounces of Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano Spaghetto from Eataly, cooked until barely al dente, added, along with – pouring very gradually while blending – almost a cup of reserved pasta water, continuing to stir until it had emulsified, one thinly-sliced 2-ounce piece of smoked monkfish from Blue Moon Fish added and tossed with the sauced spaghetto, the dish transferred to low serving bowls, drizzled with a little olive oil around the edge, sprinkled with lemon zest and more red pepper flakes, and garnished with homemade toasted breadcrumbs
• the wine was a good Italian (Alto Adige) white wine, St. Michael-Eppan Pinot Grigio 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wine
• the music was from the album, ‘Piano Music from the Weimar Republic’, featuring works by Hanns Eisler and Ernst Krenek, performed by Elizabeth Klein

Pork chops, Turkish eggplant, red cress. We may have been among a very small number of people, anywhere in the world, who enjoyed this combination for dinner last night. If it belongs to any particular cuisine, I’d say it’s that of the perpetually-evolving Union Square Greenmarket cookery.

I also brought home some bronze fennel on Saturday, and I knew it would go somewhere in the meal that was evolving in my head.

• two thick 10-ounce pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy oval enameled cast-iron pan, half of an organic lemon from Trader Joe’s Market squeezed over both, after which the lemon was left on the pan surface between the chops, which was then placed inside a 400º oven for about 13-14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over the top once again, and replaced in the pan), the finished chops removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, some of the pan juices poured over the top of the chops, the remainder poured into a sauce boat for use at the table, garnished with bronze fennel fronds from Campo Rosso Farm
• eight small Turkish eggplants, possibly the last of the season, judging from their ripeness, from Norwich Meadows Farm, each cut horizontally into 3 or more slices [although I should have sliced them less thinly], mixed with a little olive oil, one large chopped Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan over a brisk flame, turning once or twice, 2 chopped scarlet of Japanese scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm and 8 pitted and halved Kalamata olives added near the end, tossed in a bowl with chopped mint leaves from Alex’s Tomato Farm, arranged on the plates, and drizzled with olive oil
• red watercress from Max Fish Hatchery, washed, drained, dried, and dressed with a bit of good Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto, from the Flatiron Eataly Market, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
• the wine was a South African (Western Cape) rosé, Mulderbosch Cabernet Sauvignon Rosé 2016, from Philippe Liquors and Wine
• the music was Agostino Steffani’s ‘Niobe, Regina di Tebe’, in a 2015 performance by the Boston Early Music Festival Orchestra, under the direction of Paul O’Dette and Stephen Stubbs; the opera premiered at the Munich court theatre during Carnival, in 1688

We had a guest, almost a last-minute guest, last night. I did however have enough notice to be able to purchase 3 servings of fish at the Union Square Greenmarket earlier in the day, and also one beautiful head of radicchio larger than one I would normally bring home.

It all went swell.

It was also one of the most relaxed and pleasant small dinner parties either of us can remember, especially considering the fact that we had only met Andrew a few days earlier. Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of this thing.

Or maybe it was just our affable Australian artist, Andrew Nicholls.

We sat down to a salad whose elements seem to have been waiting for just this occasion. Barry had brought home a soft Spanish goat cheese a few days before, to enjoy with the tomatoes which were only now fully ripened.

• one knob of a Spanish goat goat milk cheese, ‘Capricho de Cabra‘, from Whole Foods Market, brought to room temperature and arranged on the plates with sliced ripe heirloom tomatoes in 3 different colors from Berried Treasures Farm which were seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground back pepper, everything sprinkled with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, and drizzled with an excellent Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto, from the Flatiron Eataly Market
• slices of an Eric Kayser ‘baguette monge’ [missing in the picture above]
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wine, once we had finished the aperitif wine, a New Mexican (Sierra County) sparkling white, Gruet Brut NV, from Astor Wines & Spirits

The main course was also very Mediterranean, although (like the first, with the exception of that Spanish cheese) the ingredients were almost entirely local.

• three 8-ounce Yellowfin tuna steaks from Pura Vida Seafood, rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of a dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, then seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Trader Joe’s Market and some olive oil, served with bronze micro fennel from Windfall Farm
• one large (exactly one pound) head of Treviso radicchio from Campo Rosso Farm, washed, the liquid drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into four sections, one of them wrapped and returned to the crisper for another day, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves by wrapping each with string), covered with lots of thyme branches from Phillips Farm, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 12 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for 8 or 9 minutes, then turned uncut side up and drizzled with one more tablespoon of oil, baked for about 2 minutes more, arranged on the plates, garnished with a few fresh thyme branches
• half a dozen ripe Sun Gold tomatoes from Franca Tantillo’s Berried Treasures Farm, rolled around for a minute or so, with a bit of olive oil inside a 200-year-old enameled cast iron porringer (I love using that thing), seasoned with sea salt and ground black pepper, sprinkled with a bit of lovage that remained from that which had been chopped for the first course [the tomatoes were introduced largely for the color they could add to the plate]
• the wine was a Spanish (Rias Baixas) white, Martin Codax Albarino 2016, from Philippe Liquors and Wines

There was a dessert, imagined and executed pretty much on the spot, since I found no berries at the Greenmarket that day, and I had not prepared for anything else.

• a small scoop of some terrific, very rich Riverine Ranch Water Buffalo Sweet Cream Ice Cream from the farmer’s stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, topped by a small scoop of Talenti Vanilla Bean Gelato from Whole Foods Market, drizzled with some Toschi Orzata Orgeat syrup, finished with some chopped candied ginger sprinkled on top

 

• the music through much of the meal was from the recordings included in the book, ‘Lead Kindly Light‘, described as a “176-page hardcover, clothbound book with 2 CDs featuring recordings of Rural Southern Music: Old Time, String Band Music from Appalachia, extremely rare Country Blues and African American gospel singing from 1924-1939”; we had pulled out the book and the compact discs during dinner after we learned of our guest’s interest in the culture and music of that era, and area

I was crossing a few borders when I put together this meal tonight. There was Spanish chorizo from a New York German Metzgerei, a very Italian quince confiture, Italian rapini from a local Yankee farm, and German boiled salt potatoes from an Italian American farmer, mixed with a very English herb.

• Four 3-ounce links of a wonderful spicy chorizo sausage from Schaller & Weber, pan grilled for a few minutes over a medium flame until heated through, served with an Italian quince confiture from Westside Market, Lazzaris’ Salsa di Mele Cotogne [the confiture appeared on the plate after the photograph was taken].
• three medium-size unpeeled Red Norland potatoes from Berried Treasures farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a generous amount of lovage from Keith’s Farm
• one bunch of very tender early fall broccoli rabe from Willow Wisp Farm, washed and drained several times, trimmed and very roughly chopped, and with much of the water still clinging to the greens, wilted with olive oil inside a large enameld cast iron pot in which one large, lightly-crushed and quartered Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm had been heated in a little olive oil until beginning to color, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a small amount of a finely-chopped Calabrian medium-hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, arranged on the plates and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a California (grapes from two districts) red, Tom Shula California Malbec 2015, from Naked Wines 
• the music was the album, ‘Camerata Roman Plays Baroque – Purcell, Roman, Handel‘

I looked for mackerel when I arrived at the fishmonger’s on Wednesday, since I was hoping to introduce some to the cherry tomatoes I’d been husbanding in our kitchen.

I had bought the tomatoes one week earlier, when they were less red, less ripe, less sweet, and I had kept them on a north window sill until they were perfect.

Here’e what they looked like while in the Union Square Greenmarket, still looking more orange than red.

The turnips, which I had purchased the same day I cooked them, were already very sweet. Turnips may not have been the perfect complement for this fish, but it was an interesting conversation.

• fifteen ounces of Spanish mackerel (4 fillets) from Blue Moon Fish, washed, dried, brushed lightly with olive oil and seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled over high heat for 6 or 7 minutes, first skin side down, turned half way through, removed and arranged on the plates with a salsa consisting of 8 ounces or so of gorgeous, perfectly ripe cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, halved, that had been tossed with 3 teaspoons of olive oil, a little more than a teaspoon of Sicilian salted capers (first rinsed and drained), half a tablespoon of juice from a Trader Joe’s organic lemon, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and some chopped oregano from Keith’s Farm, garnished with a little more oregano
• a handful of Hakurei turnips (or ‘ Japanese turnips’) from Willow Wisp Farm, separated from their beautiful greens, leaving a bit of stem on each, scrubbed and  halved vertically, sautéed inside a heavy medium-size tin-lined high-sided copper pan in a little olive oil, in which one thickly-sliced garlic clove from Keith’s Farm had been softened, until the vegetables had begun to color, then removed and set aside while the washed and very roughly cut greens were introduced to the pan and heated until barely wilted, the turnips returned to the pan and everything seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) rosé, Il Rose di Casanova, Casanova della Spinetta, from Philippe Wines
• the music was a great classic recording of Mozart’s ‘Le nozze di Figaro’, Georg Solti conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra and the London Opera Chorus, with Thomas Allen, Kiri Te Kanawa, Lucia Popp, Samuel Ramey, Frederica von Stade, Jane Berbié, Kurt Moll, Robert Tear, Philip Langridge, Yvonne Kenny, and Giorgio Tadeo, with Jeffrey Tate, continuo
  

We often eat so late that I haven’t wanted to extend meals later than they already run with just one course. Still, I’ve been trying to fit in an appetizer course again, and on Tuesday it finally happened.

I realize only as I write this, probably because there was so much else going on in this meal, that both courses were dominated by ‘smoky’ ingredients.

• four ounces of smoked monkfish from Blue Moon Fish, brought to our dining room temperature, sliced thinly and arranged on 2 plates with a mound of red dandelion from Paffenroth Farms which had been drizzled with a very good olive oil, sprinkled with a pinch of Maldon salt and some freshly-ground black pepper; served with a sauce composed of Sir Kensington’s plain, Classic Mayonnaise (which is made by some ex-Brown students; their headquarters are in SoHo), lemon zest and juice from an organic Trader Joe’s lemon, chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, the very last of the fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• slices of Elio’s Bakery Portuguese whole wheat bread from West Side Market

The main course was a rich pasta dish, featuring a dried, artisanal form we enjoyed for the first time.

• three thickly-sliced ‘scarlet’ or Japanese scallions and one half of a small chopped red onion, both from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in a little olive oil side a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until they had begun to color, half of a small bright red Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm stirred in near the end, followed by most of one fresh habanada pepper, chopped, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, and one fennel bulb from Hawthorne Valley Farm, its wedges, sliced radiating from the core, having just been pan grilled, that mix then joined by 6 ounces (dry weight) of a package of a smoky Agricola del Sole ‘Orecchiette di Grano Arsopasta‘ [Eng. ‘burnt grain’], from Eataly, cooked al dente, along with some of reserved pasta water, the ‘little ears’ moved about on the surface of the pot over a medium flame until the liquid had emulsified into a decent sauce, which was combined, after the flame under the pot was turned off, with thin slices of one perfectly-ripe mahogany-colored heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm that had been slipped into the mix and then barely moved about, the finished pasta scooped into 2 shallow bowls, finished with a drizzle of olive oil and some more chopped fennel fronds

There was fruit for a finish, shown here on the table of the farmer’s stall.

• Somerset grapes from Alex’s Tomato Farm at the Saturday Chelsea Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Greco di Tufo 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Purcell’s 1689 opera, ‘Dido and Aeneas’ (one of my favorite operas from any period, even after having played my LP of excerpts over and over in the 50s and 60s), in a magnificent performance  René Jacobs conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment

Swordfish belly.

It was beautiful, lying inside a tub on the ice. I had almost no idea what it was, or at least I didn’t know what if would taste like, or how I should cook it, but when I saw it at the fisherman’s stand in Union Square on Monday I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to find out.

I immediately began to look everywhere on line, but I found almost nothing, which really surprised me. Most of what I did come across, and almost all of the images, was connected to the doings of high-end chefs and restaurants (as in, dainty and very pretty little appetizers). One writer wrote that he or she had decided to try it because, well, pork belly, and tuna belly, both of which had become quite a thing in recent years, so why not swordfish belly?

Indeed.

I did do a paper search as well, but there was absolutely nothing in any of my own files or cookbooks on the subject.

By that time I had gathered that at least I wasn’t coming in at the tail end of a new food fad.

I did manage to put together a recipe myself, informed a little by what I had seen, and entirely from ingredients I had on hand. The basic idea was to arrange some good flavors, and to avoid masking the subtlety of that which I expected from the swordfish itself.

The steak was delicious. We were fortunate to be able to share it and its juices with 2 very congenial vegetables and their own juices. That usually calls for a good crusty bread, and I had one ready.

• one swordfish belly steak (13 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to room temperature, skinned (although I’m not sure that it would have been inedible, as it is with regular swordfish steaks), cut into 1½ to 2-inch-wide sections that were not too thick (say, less than one inch), briefly seared, 30 seconds on the first side, 15 on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter) enameled cast iron pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until very it was very hot, the fish removed and arranged on the plates, the heat under the pan turned down a bit and one chopped fresh habanada pepper and 6 or 8 pitted and halved black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia pushed around inside of it until they had warmed, these then arranged on the swordfish, everything seasoned with Maldon salt and drizzled with a little organic lemon from Trader Joe’s, finished with a garnish of micro fennel from Windfall Farm
• one very-thinly-sliced medium shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in 2 tablespoons of olive oil inside a heavy, high-sided tin-lined copper pan until softened, then one broadly/roughly-chopped Radicchio Variegato di Castelfranco from Campo Rosso Farm introduced into the pan, some salt and pepper added, the chicory stirred until it had barely wilted, finished with a small splash of balsamic vinegar and arranged on the plates
• two bright heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, sliced, gently heated inside a smaller tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, some chopped oregano from Keith’s Farm stirred in, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more oregano, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1723 opera, ‘Ercole’, Fabio Biondi directing the ensemble, Europa Galante

I don’t normally do stews. I don’t have anything particular against them. Maybe I usually like to work fast, or maybe I prefer the neatness of a more aggressive relationship between food and heat than that associated with dishes called stews.

But the luscious product of this quite simple recipe could change my mind, especially since I cam imagine how well it might be suited for serving to guests as a casual entrée. I found it while looking for something this past Sunday night to match both my food stores (a single monkfish tail, lots of heirloom tomatoes, handfuls of small okra)  and the time I had available to make dinner. It was fairly quick to prepare, and the process itself pretty straightforward.

The reward was the happy melding of ingredients, and a wonderful savory creamy sauce that had absolutely nothing to do with cows.

• two cups of chopped heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and one cup of chopped yellow onions from Neversink Organic Farm, sautéed in 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large, heavy tin-lined high-sided copper pot over a medium-high flame for about 8 minutes, or until the onions had softened and the tomatoes had virtually become a sauce (turning the heat up still higher near the end to reduce the amount of liquid, since they were heirlooms, and not a sturdier breed), seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then ½ cup loosely packed chopped mint from mint from Alex’s Tomato Farm and ¼ cup loosely packed chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm (tarragon would actually be the first choice, but I didn’t have any), ¼ cup white wine and 2 to 3 tablespoons of a good white wine vinegar, here Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia, were all added and the contents of the pot allowed to continue to cook for about 2 minutes, or until the smells of the wine and vinegar had dissipated, a one pound monkfish tail, from American Seafood Company in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, sliced into pieces 1 ½ inch thick, added to the tomato mixture, the pot now covered, and cooked for 5 minutes, or until the flesh was opaque, then uncovered, the fish turned over and cooked for another 2 minutes, served sprinkled some of the fresh herbs

• handfuls of small okra from Kernan Farms, their stems trimmed, washed, dried thoroughly, sautéed over a high flame in a large cast iron pan with a little olive oil and 2 crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, seasoned with sea salt, served in broad low bowls to the side of the the monkfish stew
• the wine was a wonderful Greek (Thessaly) white, Zafeirakis, Malagousia, 2016, from Flatiron Wines; it turned out to be a perfect pairing
• the music was Mozart’s ‘La Finta Giardiniera’, Nicolas Harnoncourt conducting Concentus Musicus Wien

It wasn’t Sunday breakfast, and we can’t even pretend it was brunch; we had our first meal of the day somewhere between the hours when decent folks have their lunches and dinners.

Maybe that’s why I ended up putting so much into it. While the meal looks fairly straightforward in the picture, at least by my bacon-&-eggs custom, there were definitely even more herbs and spices than usual.

NOTE; Not quite visible in the photo was my pleasure in having finally kept 6 yokes intact on their voyage from shell to table; I’m rarely able to manage that.

• the elements that arrived on the plates were: thick slices of bacon and large very fresh pullet eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; lightly-toasted slices of 2 breads, a ciabatta from Bread Alone (local unbleached wheat flours), and a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market; a bit of sliced green stem from a Scarlet scallion and one finely-slice fresh habanada pepper (the first of the season!) both from Norwich Meadows Farm; a pinch of  L’ekama in dry spice form from NYShuk Pantry; chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm; a pinch of dried fenugreek from Nirmala Gupta’s ‘Bombay Emerald Chutney Company‘ at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street; a bit of fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures; rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’; Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper; and some strands of fresh (micro) fennel from Windfall Farm
• the meal was late, but the music choice, a set of evening songs set by Monteverdi, didn’t quite reflect the hour: was Monteverdi’s incredibly-beautiful 1610 ‘Vespers of the Blessed Virgin’, performed by the English Baroque Soloists and John Eliot Gardiner