Really, really good.

It was also very good for anyone’s budget, regardless of how small: The squid was $6.95 per pound, and I brought home enough for both of us for $6.

We couldn’t decide whether the seafood or the vegetable part of this meal was more delicious; they both were pretty awesome, so we called it a draw.

We enjoy squid regardless of how it’s prepared. This time I decided to work it on top of the stove, mostly because I didn’t want a hot oven to add to the discomfort of a warm, humid evening, even if it would be on for only a few minutes.

 

The accompaniment to the cephalopods became something of a salmagundi, because I didn’t have a sufficient amount of any one vegetable to serve alone.

It  started with a modest bulb of fennel (which cost about half what the squid had, and it came with stems for an easy crudité, and fronds for a garnish).

• cleaned Squid, bodies and tentacles, from Blue Moon Fish, marinaded for half an hour in a mixture of zest and juice from one organic Whole Foods Market lemon; sliced garlic from Keith’s Farm; olive oil; dried Sicilian oregano; part of a dried golden/orange habanada; part of a small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper, chopped, from Alewife Farm; salt, and pepper, drained, then pan grilled, turning once, arranged on the plates, drizzled with more lemon, finished with chopped parsley from S. & S.O. Farm and chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm
• one fennel bulb, from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, cut as wedges on the radius of its core, sautéed inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pan with a couple tablespoons of olive oil until beginning to color, then one thickly-sliced clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, chopped pieces of that same small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, and some dried Sicilian fennel seeds from Buon Italia added and stirred until the garlic had softened and the mix had become pungent, followed by the addition of a handful of halved ripe orange cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures, which were stirred in and briefly heated before the pan was removed from the burner, then some of the more tender fennel fronds, chopped, also stirred in, the vegetables served on the plates with a sprinkling of more fennel fronds
• there were slices of ’12 Grain & Seed bread’ (organic wheat and whole wheat with 12 cracked grains and seeds) from the Bread Alone stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, to ensure that none of the juices from the squid or the fennel dish would be wasted
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily), Tenuta delle Terre Nere Etna Bianco 2016, from Garnet Wines & Liquors
• the music was Mozart’s Violin Concerto in A Major, K. 219, and Henri Vieuxtemps’Violin Concerto No. 4 in D Minor, Op. 31, Hilary Hahn, Violin, with the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, conducted by Paavo Järvi

The idea for the steak came first, but when I saw these baby artichokes at the Greenmarket stand of one of my favorite farmers, it was more like the meal had been conceived as a whole.

I didn’t know what I was going to do with these little thistle buds, but this time I was resolved to remove more of the indigestible parts than I’m known to do sometimes, anxious to avoid wasting any of the goodness.

I also decided on a pretty minimal treatment as the proper accompaniment for a luscious steak.

• one one-pound Angus boneless ribeye, “pasture-raised, grain-fed, grain-finished”, from Diamond Creek Ranch in Wilsey, Kansas, via Eataly, brought to room temperature, dried, well-seasoned with freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, placed on a very hot cast iron pan grill for just under 5 minutes on each side, turning 3 times, adding salt once a surface had been seared, removed and arranged on the plates, a little organic lemon juice from Whole Foods Market squeezed on top, sprinkled with some chopped rosemary from Phillips Farm and a bit of finely-chopped green sections of a scarlet, or Japanese scallion, finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• ten or eleven ounces of baby artichokes from Alewife Farm, their outer petals peeled off and discarded, and stems and tips trimmed, halved lengthwise, each tossed into a bowl of cold water and lemon juice while being processed, drained when all had been prepared, added to a layer of olive oil over a medium flame in a large non-reactive pan, in this case, a high-sided ton-lined copper pot, seasoned with salt and pepper, stirred 5 to 7 minutes until slightly browned, two cloves of chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, bit of a small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, chopped, and a couple tablespoons of chopped parsley from S. & S.O. Farm added to the pan, the vegetables transferred to the plates, where they were sprinkled with a few drops of a good Rioja wine vinegar [they can be enjoyed hot, warm, or at room temperature]
• ten small golden cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, washed, dried, pierced with sharp point to avoid explosions on the plate, heated inside a small tin-lined copper pan with a little olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and fresh pepper, sprinkled with chopped fresh oregano from Keith’s Farm
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejano) red, Herdade dos Grous Alentejano Tinto 2013, from Manley’s Wines in the West Village
• the music was Leif Ove Andnes playing Sibelius piano works

Brown butter.

The first appearance of brown butter, long ago, was probably the result of an accident, like so many wonderful things – of all kinds – that we enjoy and take for granted. Last night it was an accident again, a very local accident.

I’ve cooked flounder using the recipe I used yesterday more than once, but this time it came with a twist, a serendipity. The next time it appears it won’t be a fluke.

It started when I placed some butter inside an enameled pan above a low flame, intending only to melt it, but then I stepped away, and when I looked back it had started to color, somewhat alarmingly. Fortunately the pan itself was not black, but a light tan, so I could see what was happening and catch it just in time (the butter wasn’t black and had no burnt taste), so I decided I’d go with it.

The result was extraordinary, in both common meanings of the word.

• six small flounder fillets (just under one pound together) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, coated lightly with well-seasoned flour (I used North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour), then submerged in a shallow bowl containing a mixture of one pullet egg from Millport Dairy, a little whole milk, and a pinch of salt, allowed to stay submerged until the vegetable had been cooked and the remaining ingredients for the fish prepared, then removed from the bowl, placed inside a heavy enameled cast iron pan on top of 3 tablespoons of butter that had been melted and allowed to brown, several halved large fresh sage leaves from Phillips Farm, one section of a dried, crushed orange/golden dried habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, and one sliced ruddy scallion (the ‘Scarlet Scallion’, a Japanese heirloom) from Norwich Meadows Farm (including some of the green section), sautéed over a brisk flame until golden, about 2 1/2 minutes on the first side, 1 1/2 minutes on the second, sprinkled with some juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, transferred onto warm plates, some chopped parsley from S. & S.O. Farm scattered on top
• a good sized serving of yellow Romano beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, parboiled in salted water for a few minutes, drained, dried inside the same pot over a medium flame while shaking them, reheated, as the fish was being sautéd, in melted butter inside a heavy tin-lined copper pan, tossed with chopped summer savory from Ryder Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper [the beans had cooked longer than I normally would, but they were still delicious, and I remember that in Italy, unaccountably, vegetables are generally cooked much longer than I ever do]
• the wine was a Spanish (Galicia, Rias Baixas) white, Campos de Celtas Albariño 2015, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits in the West Village

There was a dessert, a simple fruit serving.

• Asian melon from Norwich Meadows Farm, a couple of blackberries from Locust Grove Orchards, and a pinch of turbinado sugar, for the crunch, and to sweeten the berries

 

• the music through out the meal was Rameau’s 1741 ‘Six Concerts en Sextuor Les Talens Lyriques‘, performed by Les Talens Lyriques, directed by Christophe Rousset

To me, these meals in which I use fresh pasta, usually a filled form, always seem like they come pre-assembled, and yet they also offer huge opportunities for customization, working with both necessity and whim.

Last night the necessity was that I had very little time to put something together once I got back from Whole Foods Market where I’d picked up some staples, so I eliminated some of what I had expected to include in the dish. And yet there was also room for whim: Before I was done throwing the entrée together I ended up introducing several ingredients I fancied, although they hadn’t been a part of any plan.

The dish was earthy, fully redolent of the autumn which had not yet actually arrived.

• Rana mushroom-filled ravioli from Eataly, quickly boiled, drained and transferred to a heavy broad tin-lined copper pan in which a small amount of sliced Japanese scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, a tiny chopped section of a small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, a bit of a dried dark habanada pepper, and one small sliced shallot from Paffenroth Farms had been briefly sautéed (warmed, basically) in olive oil, after which some sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a dozen or so pitted Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, and some fennel buds were added, and, with a bit of pasta water, the liquids heated over a moderate flame and  emulsified, the contents of the pot placed in shallow bowls, finished with a drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkling of toasted pine nuts, and a scattering of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Lodi) red, Jacqueline Bahue Cabernet Franc Lodi 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Tchaikovsky’s ‘Manfred Symphony’, in a performance which is a part of the Tchaikovsky Project Vol. 2, Semyon Bychkov conducting the Czech Philharmonic

The table inside my tiny Indian restaurant.

We enjoyed a little bit of India as a late afternoon snack today, thanks to the Bombay Emerald Chutney Company.

When I visited Nirmala Gupta‘s stand inside Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street yesterday (she’s only at that location once a month), I came away with a couple fresh wrapped Rôti (which we had enjoyed once before) and a package of 4 frozen samosas. The rôti, which I’ve frozen, will show up for a Sunday breakfast, probably next week; the samosas made it only as far as today’s lunch table.

• four handmade vegan samosas from the Bombay Emerald Chutney Company  (ingredients: potato, white flour, peas, water, olive and canola oils, salt, red chili, and spices), defrosted, placed inside a small Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, the tops brushed with olive oil, baked 15 minutes inside an oven preheated to 425ºF, turned once, and baked for another 15 minutes, allowed to cool a bit before served with 2 chutneys, Bombay Emerald Chutney Company’s Royal Coconut Chutney and Geeta’s Premium Mango Chutney (medium heat)