Note to self:  This was really, really good.

Once again the weather had shut out the Union Square Greenmarket fish sellers today. I had no other plan for dinner; not having defrosted anything the night before. I was very much conscious of the continuing cold weather, so I decided that we might be excused if we enjoyed a meat entrée two days in a row.  I was going to be near Eataly today anyway, so I popped in and picked up a small-ish Pat La Frieda duck breast, one of our favorite game-like meats.

We had a bit of the speck and pear lasagna left over from Valentine’s Day;  it made a delicious primi to introduce the rich duck.  I also had some white polenta remaining from a meal of Venetian lambs liver last Wednesday.  A dozen or so what I was told were finally the very last Brussels sprouts of the season became the contorno.

• one three-quarter pound Pat La Frieda duck breast from Eataly, brushed with salt, pepper, and a bit of sugar, allowed to rest for half an hour before pan-fried, allowed to sit again for a few minutes, cut into two pieces, and finished with a squeeze of lemon, some chopped rosemary from John D, Maderna Farm, one sliced baby leek from Rogowski Farm, a squeeze of lemon and a dribble of olive oil (in the picture above, the small piece at the edge of the breast itself is half of the tenderloin)
• Brussels sprouts form John D. Maderna Farm, tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, and roasted in a 400º oven for about half an hour
• polenta left from an earlier meal, heated and refreshed with the addition of a bit of water, and the addition of a couple knobs of butter
• the wine was a California red, Akiyoshi Merlot, Clarksburg 2013,  from Naked Wines
• the music was Bruckner, Symphony No. 4, performed by Eugen Jochum and the Dresden Staatskapelle

•  the primi was a serving of a leftover lasagna of speck, pear, Bechamel sauce,mozzarella di bufala, and cayenne pepper, reheated for about twelve minutes at 350º

This was a pretty conventional, or at least straightforward, meal, with the possible exception of the appearance of a baby leek, and the treatment of parsley root as pommes frites.  I chose the cress and the tomato almost as much for the color and freshness which they could add to a mid-winter meal as for their taste and their qualities as compliments to the meat and ‘potato’.

• two lamb chops form 3-Corner Field Farm, marinated for about half an hour in olive oil, smashed garlic from Lucky Dog Organic, roughly-chopped thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, then cooked on a very hot grill pan, finished with a squeeze of lemon, sliced baby leek from Rogowski Farm, and a drizzle of olive oil
• Maine Backyard Farms cocktail tomatoes from Eataly, slow roasted with olive oil, dried Italian oregano, garlic, salt, and pepper
• Upland Cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, squeezed with a bit of lemon and drizzled with a little olive oil
• medium size parsley roots from S.&S.O. Produce Farms, scraped, cut as for French fries, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary leaves from John D. Maderna Farm, roasted in a ceramic pan for about 35 minutes at 400º
• the wine was a very good Spanish red, Nocedal Rioja Reserva, Bodgas Fuenmajor 2001
• the music was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 3

Valentine’s day.  I was thinking that the occasion naturally suggested a pink sparkling wine, so I immediately moved on to the most obvious pairing, a luscious lasagne which features speck and pears.  Actually, it was the other way around.  I first came across this wonderful recipe years ago, on the Italian Food sight hosted at the time by Kyle Phillips.  Tragically, our guide died several years ago, and I’m certain that we are not the only ones who feel the loss, almost daily.  Many of my favorite recipes and boldest forays into Italian  cuisine I owe to Kyle.

The somewhat lasagna recipe which incorporates speck and pears has become an annual tradition, the centerpiece for every Valentine’s day, mostly because Kyle had suggested it long ago.  The pink sparkling wine is usually also a part of the tradition.  The Nigerian cayenne only arrived in the mix this year.

I can highly recommend the dish, on a number of counts.  Yes, it’s absolutely delicious, and it’s feel light (perhaps deceptively so), but the clincher for a special evening, may be the fact that all the preparation materials can be washed and put away before the baking dish is placed in the oven, giving two (or more) randy valentines, including the cook, at least a full half hour to play together before it has to be put on the table.

• the recipe can be found here, so I don’t have to repeat it, but my own ingredients included fresh Rana pasta sheets, Südtiroler Speck from Eataly, two red Anjou pears from Eataly, eight ounces of Luigi Guffanti mozzarella di bufala from Eataly, and far more Nigerian cayenne (purchased from Balducci’s five years ago!) than I could ever have imagined using in one dish (its enduring flavor and gentle, measured kick were both wonderful, perfect accompaniments to the rest of the ingredients)
• the wine was a Spanish sparkling rosé, Raventós i Blanc Conca del Riu Anoia Barcelona de Nit 2012 from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the Valentine’s Day music was ‘Tristan und Isolde’ (Furtwängler/Flagstad/Ludwig/Suthaus/F-Dieskau 1952)
• the dessert (noting right now that any Dolce is rare for us) was one Linzer cookie, from Baker’s Bounty in the Union Square Greenmarket, split straight down the middle

It certainly wasn’t the best monkfish dinner I can remember, but it looks pretty good in the picture, and it was at least remarkable for including ingredients which should have been almost impossible to find in the middle of a very cold February.

The recipe was a slight adaptation of one in Mark Bittman’s ‘Fish: The Complete Guide to Buying and Cooking‘, and it turns out I’m not the only reader who found it lacking.

• three five-and-a-half-ounce monkfish fillets from Pura Vida, dredged in flour with salt, pepper, and a mix of lots of different chopped fresh herbs, browned in olive oil, white wine added to the pan and two chopped baby leeks from Rogowki Farm tossed on top before it was placed in a 450º oven for about 25 minutes, the pan juices then reduced and spooned on top of the fish once it was placed on plates, which was then garnished with more leek and more fresh herbs
• radishes from Rogowski Farm (surely hanging out long after their natural span of days), tossed with salt, pepper, olive oil, and branches of thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, roasted in a 450º oven for about 20 minutes
• collard greens (this time apparently the last of the season for sure) from Rogowski Farm, cut in a rough chiffonade, then braised in a heavy pot in which crushed garlic, also from Rogowski Farm, had been allowed to sweat with some heated olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Shaya old vines, verdejo Rueda 2013
• the music was Dvořák‘s Symphony No. 2, with which neither of us was familiar, but after several rather unexciting movements, the finale sounded very much like Bruckner.  Dvořák‘s symphony was composed in 1865 (although revised in 1887), the same year in which he had completed his first.  Bruckner’s own first, ‘study symphony’, was completed in 1868, although it was not performed until 1924.  Dvořák had certainly not heard any Bruckner symphony at the time he completed his second.  I seriously doubt it, but I would eave it to a musicologist to determine whether the younger composer might have ‘Brucknerized’ his 1887 version.

I used to cook pasta dishes far more often than I do now.  In fact I occasionally thought that we might be eating too much pasta, even when I had persuaded myself at the same time that might not even be possible (think Sophia Loren, as in, “Everything you see I owe to spaghetti”).  I cannot account for its more rare appearance on both our table and this blog in recent years, except that I think I’ve been hugely distracted by the diversity of the bounty available at our local farmers’ market, the incredible Union Square Greenmarket.

This particular meal managed to bridge both impulses, or fancies, since it includes both some rather precious, very-late-season leeks I had picked up in Union Square on Wednesday, and an eventuation of a slightly-modified version of a Mark Bittman pasta recipe I hadn’t even looked at in almost ten years.

• two lightly-smashed Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm and two dried chiles from Buon Italia, sautéed in olive oil until the garlic browns, the chiles then removed, finely-chopped Jacüterie Alpine Cervelat, purchased late last fall at the Cold Spring farmers’ market, added to the pan and stirred for a minute, then four smallish leeks from Rogowski Farm which had been trimmed, split, washed, and sliced, added to the garlic oil and stirred until they wilt, freshly-ground black pepper and two minced Maine Backyard Farms mid-size tomatoes from Eataly added to the pan and cooked, stirring occasionally, until the leeks appeared to begin to brown, the sauce tossed with about twelve ounces of Rustichella d’Abruzzo spaghetti cooked al dente , more olive oil, some reserved pasta water, and chopped parsley from Manhattan Fruit Exchange
• the wine was an Italian red, Piedmont Wine Project Gambai Rosso 2013
• the music was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 1 (and I had thought he couldn’t count below 6), and Fred Lerdahl‘s wonderful String Quartet No. 1

The plated dish may not look quite as neat as it did the last time I prepared this dish, but it was almost as delicious.  Presentation counts, but it doesn’t really massage the flavor;  I think the difference lay in the fact that last November the squash I had was very special.

• one smallish Butternut squash from Keith’s Farm, peeled and cut into 1/4″ slices, roasted with butter in a large ceramic oven pan, removed from the oven, placed on serving plates and kept warm until finishing cooking the cod, for which it would be a base
• fillet of cod from American Fish Company, cut into four pieces, dredged in flour and seasoned, then quickly sautéed until slightly browned and just cooked through, removed and placed on top of the squash on serving plates, while additional butter was added to the pan and, after it had sizzled and browned, also some sherry vinegar, the sauce cooked for 10-20 seconds more before it was poured over the fish and the vegetable
• upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, not dressed
• the wine was a new California white, Matthew Iaconis Napa Valley Chardonnay 2013 (it’s Matt’s, and it comes from Naked Wines; what’s not to love?)
• the music was Johann Friedrich Fasch and Ignaz Josef Pleyel (with no Furtwängler anywhere within hearing range this time)

Completing a full circle, last night it was back to polenta.  I had one more piece of the excellent lambs liver I’d bought from 3-Corner Field Farm early in January.  The first bit went into a sauce for hare; the second was sautéed whole and accompanied by cabbage leaves and roots;  and last night the third portion was prepared in the tradition of northeastern Italy.  Inexplicably, it’s also a tradition followed by my dear Wisconsin-born, fränkisch–Extraktion Mutter (except that Mother never prepared polenta).

• two thinly-sliced red onions from John D. Maderna Farms, along with three fresh bay leaves from Westside Market, cooked over low heat until the onions were golden, then seasoned with salt and pepper, a small bit of water added, its non-liquid contents removed and set aside, some olive oil added to the pan if necessary, the heat turned up to medium-high and 1/2-inch slices of lambs liver from 3-Corner Field Farm (nine ounces) which had been dusted with flour, stir-fried until seared, the onions returned to the pan without the bay leaves and reheated with the liver, two tablespoons of white wine vinegar added and stirred with the meat and vegetable
• coarse white polenta (Moretti Bramata Bianca, farina di granoturco, from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market) cooked with water and no milk, finished with butter, seasoned with salt, and served with the liver
• the wine was a northern Italian red, Paruso Dolcetto d’Alba Piani Noce 2013 from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was a recording, via Spotify of Wilhelm Furtwängler conducting Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 with the Berlin Philharmonic, in the old Philharmonic Hall/alte Philharmonie, October 31, 1943 (three months before both it and the Beethoven Hall/Beethovensaal  were destroyed by British bombs)
• the post-dinner presentation was the intense documentary, ‘Reichsorchester‘, watched at home via the excellent Berlin Philharmionic Digital Concert Hall

note: red objects in foreground are smaller than they appear

The chops were small, but just the right thickness for finishing in the oven. Their outer sides showed a layer of fat generous enough to help retain the juiciness promised by their width.  They were perfectly shaped, and I knew they would taste as good as they looked, because they were from Flying Pigs Farm.  I had purchased the frozen matched pair from the owner Michael Yezzi’s stand in the Union Square Greenmarket.  The turnips came home about the same time, from one of my favorite vegetable producers, Norwich Meadows Farm, also in the Greenmarket.  The slightly-outsized, exceedingly-red Maine ‘cocktail’ cherries have become something like my regular go-to tomatoes.  In the winter months I buy them regularly at Whole Foods Markets, although there are excellent Greenmarket sources for tomatoes, and I patronize them almost as often.  The herb and the alliums were each picked up in the Greenmarket some time since the beginning of February, and the fact that they were there this month is pretty shocking, even to me.

The meat was possibly even more delicious than the usual standard of the supplier and the very familiar recipe (from Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’ “Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe“).  This time I used no herbs to finish the chops, only the baby leeks I’ve become attached to over the past weeks.  The turnips were as sweet as candy, but it was a savory sweet augmented by spring garlic and rosemary, with a bit of crunch on the edges, and succulent inside.

• two thick, bone-in loin pork chops (approximately 8 ounces each) from Flying Pig Farms, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper, seared in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half a lemon squeezed over them then left in the pan with them while they roasted in a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again), removed from the oven, sprinkled with sliced baby leeks from Rogowski Farm, the pan juices spooned over the top
• purple-top turnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into half-inch pieces, tossed with oil, rosemary from John D, Maderna Farm, fresh garlic from Rogowski Farm, salt, and pepper, roasted for about half an hour at 425º
• Maine Backyard Farms ‘cocktail tomatoes‘ from Eataly, halved, added to the pan with the pork chops, cut-side down, in the last moments they were in the oven, seasoned
• the wine was a California white, Franc Dusak, white Wine Mendocino 2014
• the music was ‘Boris Godunov‘

I couldn’t get to the Greenmarket on Saturday, but I still hoped we could have seafood that evening.  Thinking lately of squid ink pasta, partly because we already had both spaghetti and penne forms in the larder, decided to mix it with cooked crabmeat, since I would be able to up a fresh container of that luscious crustacean just half a block down the street.  The concept hardly needs a proper formula, but while looking for ideas which might incorporate vegetables I already had on hand, I came across this extremely simple recipe by Frank Camora.

• one seeded and chopped red serrano pepper from Eatlay, heated gently in olive oil along with one fresh spring garlic from Rogowski Farm and a small dry Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, both sliced thinly, the heat turned up for a short time while white wine is added, the pan removed from the heat and about one quarter of an eight-ounce container of crabmeat, Little River Seafood brand, ‘blue’ from Virginia, purchased at Whole Food, added to and crushed in the oil, the pan returned to a very low heat where the contents begin to emulsify as a sauce; in the meantime half a pound of pasta (Neapolitan Pastificio F.lli Setaro spaghetti al nero di seppia), boiling in a large pot of salted water, three cups removed near the end for adding to the mix later, now drained and tossed with the sauce (removed from the heat just before), the remaining crabmeat added, along with the addition of enough pasta water to keep the pasta moist and a generous amount of chopped parsley from Eataly, both sprinkled into it and garnishing the bowls when served
• lemon quarters were served on the side, and fully enjoyed squeezed onto the pasta
• the wine was a really terrific California rosé, Akiyoshi Sangiovese Rosé 2013

The image is of the entrée resting on the range surface of the old Magic Chef after it had been removed from the oven.  It was just before the real operation actually began.  But it wasn’t so much the filleting that was a challenge, rather it was the inevitable encounter with the bones.  Somewhere through the meal we both decided that it was good to serve whole fish occasionally, for the flavor, the aesthetic, and the experience, but working with fillets was so much more relaxing all around.

One of the fish, along with the contorno, appears (on one of the two large plates which I had to pull out from the bottom of the cupboard) in the photo which follows this description of its preparation:

• well-matured nutty Ruby Crescent fingerlings from Berried Treasures, boiled, drained, dried, and cut lengthwise, placed on oiled parchment paper in an open enameled cast iron casserole as a bed for two seasoned whole twelve-ounce sea bass from Pura Vida stuffed with branches of thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange as well as some chopped Kalamata olives and rinsed salted capers, most of which were scattered on the fish and the potatoes along with more thyme, chopped, before the pan was placed in a 425º oven for about twenty minutes, the pan juices serving as a sauce
• kale from Rogowski Farm, wilted with olive oil in which fresh spring garlic, also from Rogowski Farm, sliced, had been heated, then seasoned with salt and pepper, and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a California white, Akiyoshi Chardonnay Sur Lie Aged 2011, from Naked Wines