Month: September 2019

mussels, lovage, chili, wine, tomato, shallot; red fife bread

I hadn’t expected to make it to either of my Greenmarket choices on Saturday, but when our plans changed, and I realized I’d be able to cook dinner that night, I rushed down the block to one of my favorite fishmongers.

When I saw the mussels, I couldn’t see anything else in the case.

  • a little more than two pounds of wild mussels (and I was told they had not grown on ropes, or the equivalent), purchased from American Seafood Company early that afternoon in the 23rd Street Market at Saturday’s Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, one block away from us, scrubbed and de-bearded where necessary, combined in a large heavy enameled pot (a larger round Le Creuset Doufeu ‘dutch oven’ I’ve had for almost 50 years) with over two cups of halved red cherry tomatoes (one pint basket) from Alex’s Tomato Farm, a little more than half a cup of a good white wine, Miriam Alexandra California Chenin Blanc 2018, a few tablespoons of a chopped ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm, 4 tablespoons Vermont Creamery Butter, about a quarter of a teaspoon of crushed Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, and a few tablespoons of some coarsely-chopped lovage from Quarton Farm, the pot then covered and its contents simply steamed over high heat for a few minutes, arranged in shallow bowls, along with the wonderful pot liquor, and sprinkled with a little more lovage
  • one red fife baguette(Red Fife whole wheat flour, starter, and salt) from Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse
  • the wine was a French (Loire) rosé, Patrice Grasset Loire Valley Rosé of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was an extremely early opera (1608) by Marco Da Gagliano, ‘La Dafne’, from the Ensemble Vocale Dello Studio Di Music Antica Antonio Il Verso

breakfast and lunch, one plate, explaining the maximalism

The eggs themselves were minimal, but it got a little busy with the tomato-salad-salumi-mix.

Also, it was both breakfast and lunch, so I figured adding a second cured meat wasn’t totally out of order (actually the few slices of a small saucisson were there because there was so little of it, and because I couldn’t imagine how else I would use it), but once again there was no cantaloupe, no strawberries, no pineapple, watermelon, avocado, or maraschino cherries.

  • what there was, were 4 slices of thick pastured pigs bacon, and 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens, both from the Amish family-run Millport Dairy Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, the eggs seasoned with a local Long Island sea salt (from P.E. & D.D. Seafood), freshly ground black pepper, finished sprinkled with bronze fennel flowers and buds from Rise & Root Farm, scissored from their stems; there was one ripe green heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, seasoned with salt, pepper, a pinch of smoked salt from Spices and Tease in the Chelsea Market, and sprinkled with torn spearmint leaves, the gift of a friend, sautéed in a little olive oil, turning once, arranged on the plates on top of a nest of beautiful washed and dried leaves of a small head of Roxy purple leaf lettuce from Lucky Dog Organic Farm that had already been dressed with a little salt, pepper, and a few drops of very good olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with chopped lovage from Quarton Farm; there was a very small amount of finely sliced tropea (sweet Italian red) onion from Alewife Farm and part of a finely sliced fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, heated together inside an antique enameled cast iron porringer in a little olive oil, placed on and around the tomato and the greens, and a little more than a dozen thin slices of a saucisson (‘French style salami’, on the label) crafted by Jacüterie with pasture raised pork raised by Walnut Hill Farm arranged around the tomato; Vermont Creamery butter was available to accompany slices of a bread baked that morning (not toasted), Pain d’Avignon 7 grain bread (rustic, whole wheat, honey, sesame- sunflower-flax seed, oats) from Foragers Market
  • the music was a number of symphonies by a Bohemian composer working in Vienna during the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Leopold Koželuch, performed by the Czech Chamber Philharmonic Pardubice, Marec Štilec conducting

dolphin, leek, chili, micro scallion; tomato, mint; puntarelle

Paul wanted me to go home with the sea robin, which was actually less than half the price of the dolphin he was selling.

Speaking as my fishmonger, he said that by cooking and then writing about it on this food blog I might be able to expand the market for a very under-appreciated fish, reminding me that it was extremely sustainable (almost certainly related to its unpopularity), and pointing out that while we stood there in the Greenmarket that afternoon, all over the world there were enormous demonstrations about climate change, protests which were not unrelated to the disappearance of species.

I totally respect a fish monger who thinks in terms that not only do not favor his own business but manage to shame his customers, and I’ve prepared more than my share of sea robin (a great tasting fish, by the way), but on Friday I went with the dolphin, promising Paul it would be different next time.

Just then, a guy came up to the stand asked him about a fish he didn’t have that day, and the 3-way, eventually 4-way, conversation moved on to our experiences catching sea robin with hook and line (always inadvertently), and lots of laughter, especially over the surprise of their creepy ‘legs’ and ‘wings’.

I love the Greenmarket.

  • a one pound skinned fillet of local dolphin, or ‘dolphinfish’, from Pura Vida Seafood, a species elsewhere known as orata, or dorade, but in the US commonly referred to by a Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’, (which I try to resist), because Americans, seduced by popular media, would otherwise think of Flipper, halved at home, dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic California lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of what I think is chopped za’atar from Jayne of TransGenerational Farm (I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t now for certain that it was that herb; it may have been an oregano or marjoram, since they all look similar and I had bought all 3 herbs within days of each other; only one of them remains), sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 2 minutes, the former skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for another 2 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a tin-lined copper universal lid for a minute or two, after which some short slices of baby French leek from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm were introduced and very briefly sautéed with the fish before the leek, the habanada, and the fish were arranged on the plates, and the now rich, savory pan juices poured on top, some micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge scattered over all
  • two heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced horizontally, the cut sides seasoned with salt and pepper and sprinkled with torn leaves of spearmint, the gift of a friend
  • some of the puntarelle prepared for a meal 2 days earlier but then set aside because including it would have made the portions too large, tossed now with a freshly assembled anchovy sauce
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson ROX Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was an album of various ‘Concerti Grossi’ by Francesco Geminiani’s, ‘Quinta Essentia’, performed by Concerto Köln

saucisson, tomato; fennel-crusted tuna; puntarelle; spirits

He was visiting New York from London so we were delighted to be able to invite him to dinner last night. Until then, while we had only known John through Twitter, we had come to feel of him as a friend.

On occasions like this I usually try to serve something I can prepare almost entirely ahead of time, but last night I relied on the fact that the tuna steaks I’d chosen as the entrée would be so simple and quick that it’d be almost the same thing. There would probably be some particularly good greens (there were so many kinds in the Greenmarket that day, and I saw and tasted some great September broccoli rabe) or some other vegetable that could be cooked in advance, and I had decided I could avoid the complications a first course would present by accompanying the tuna with a second vegetable.

Well, then I spotted the puntarelle, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. While the dish I had in mind, repeating my Puntarelle alla Romana, can mostly be done ahead of time, it needs a number of processes, and a certain amount of space, and it really should be assembled at the last moment. It also seemed to rule out including anything else on the plate, which meant there would now be 2 courses.

I wanted to include in the meal some very sweet tiny cherry tomatoes that had been camping out on the windowsill for a while, because they were now really at their peak, and because they were beautiful. The problem was that there weren’t really that many of them, and they’d be difficult to arrange on the plates in a way they could easily be picked up, so I brought 3 modest size zucchini home from the market, 2 yellow, one green, with the idea of scattering tomato halves among thin slices of summer squash near the end of the time they’d both spend on a large cast iron grill pan, tossing everything with some torn peppermint leaves when they were done, but then I noticed our guest was expected in a short while and there wouldn’t be time.

Now I had to reinvent the appetizer, but I hadn’t really come up with concept until I had already begun assembling it, so there was some stress involved in the process while at the same time I was trying to engage in the conversation; the result may have had something of an improvisational aspect to it, but it was delicious. Thank goodness for the young trailblazers of the new charcuterie [Walnut Hill Farm in this particular case], and the welcome the Union Square Greenmarket/GrowNYC people have been giving them.

It was a great evening on every count, the credit for which goes to the good Barry and John.

We began with a sparkling rosé while we nibbled on breadsticks and taralli.

The first course:

  • half of a pint of ‘Super sweet 100’ cherry tomatoes from Keith’s Farm, halved, mixed with a bit of finely sliced tropea (sweet Italian red) onion from Alewife Farm, sea salt, black pepper, a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, and a bit of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, arrange on a small mound of red watercress from Dave’s Max Creek Hatchery

  • slices from a loaf of ‘Table Bread’, described as half organic bread flour, half fresh milled whole grain (wheat, spelt, rye, malted barley), water, salt, from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co.
  • rich Vermont Creamery butter from Chelsea Whole Foods [unfortunately they don’t carry the unsalted version – yet, I hope I can add here], for speading on the bead
  • most of a 4-ounce package of Saucisson (‘French style salami’) crafted by Jacüterie with pasture raised pork raised by Walnut Hill Farm, sliced
  • the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, San Felice Vermentino Toscana 2017, from Philippe Wines

The main course.

  • three thick 10 or 11-ounce yellowfin tuna steaks from American Seafood Company [much larger than I normally select, but the problem was getting 3 that looked similar, and were close to the same size], rinsed, dried, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, brushed or ‘paved’ with almost 2 tablespoons of a mix of a generous amount of incredibly wonderful dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, both first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the tuna pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for little more than a minute or so on each side, finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic California lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, a scattering of scissored bronze fennel buds and flowers from Rise & Root Farm, and  a drizzle of Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil

  • two ‘heads’ of Puntarelle [cicoria di catalogna], an Italian chicory (about 32 ounces), from Tamarack Hill Farm, the outer straight leaves removed for another time, the remainder cooked pretty much as described on this site; I used ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm, local sea salt, 4 or 5 rinsed and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, a little chopped fresh habanada pepper, one and a half tablespoons or more of Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia (a mix of Langhe white wines), 3 tablespoons or more of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and Whole Foods Market house whole pepper
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2018, from Astor Wines

The dessert.

  • instead of cheese, fruit, or a sweet, the dessert was a selection of very good artisanal liquors, 2 clear, ALB, a 100% neutral corn spirits vodka from Albany; St. George Terroir Gin, “a profoundly aromatic gin with a real sense of place”, from Alameda, California; and one Chicago bourbon, with millet instead of rye or wheat as the secondary component of the mash bill, Koval Single Barrel Bourbon Whiskey
  • raw almonds from Chelsea Whole Foods Market

 

 

 

 

 

 

puntarelle 34 ounces,  > 26, the even less

oregano/chili/lemon-roasted squid; turkish eggplant, mint

Words fail me here; I can only say it was absolutely delicious, all of it, but at least the colors can speak for themselves.

Okay, ‘juicy’. Juicy is easy to say.

  • after the oven had been heated to 400º, exactly one pound of very fresh, cleaned, quite small and very tender baby squid from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, bodies and tentacles (at least some of the latter were from grownup cephalopods claimed by earlier customers, maybe for stuffing the bodies), were rinsed, then very carefully dried, very quickly arranged inside two large rectangular enameled cast iron pans (these little ones had a large footprint, so I needed more than one) but only after a little olive oil that had been brushed on the pan surfaces, heated until they had become quite hot, had itself become hot, the squid then immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, some crushed peperoncino di Calabria from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, and a pinch of the powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper I had purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017 (still awesome), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 full tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market California lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pans placed inside the hot oven and the squid roasted for just 3 minutes, because they were smaller than the usual, which I cook for 4), by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, removed and arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices from a footed glass sauce boat and sprinkled with scissored bronze fennel blossoms and buds, from Rise & Root Farm
  • we used a bit of a powerful Brazil wax pepper-infused olive oil as a condiment (the fresh pepper had come from Eckerton Hill Farm
  • a handful of plain, unseasoned perky and peppery red watercress from Dave’s Max Creek Hatchery in the Greenmarket

  • five medium (they’re a small breed), Turkish eggplants, 17 ounces total, from Norwich Meadows Farm, each cut horizontally into 4 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, one large chopped ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic clove from Alewife Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan over 2 burners above a brisk flame, turning once or twice, then tossed inside a bowl with some torn peppermint leaves from Lani’s Farm and arranged on the plates, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, garnished with more mint
  • the wine was an Italian (Sardinia/Sassari) white, Vigne Surau Vermentino di Gallura DOCG 2018, from Philippe Wines
  • the music was the 2009 surrealistic chamber opera, ‘Döbeln’, by the Finnish composer Sebastian Fagerlund (we’re now both fans), performed by the Kokkola Opera Festival Orchestra, conducted by Sakari Oramo