Month: November 2019

german andouille, cranberry mustard; roast potato; collards

German creole cookery? Yes, and of course it was all good.

Otherwise all I can think to say otherwise is how quickly Barry and I have become comfortable with the idea of traditional German cuisine melded with that of the deep south hundreds of years ago. I wrote a little about it in the post describing our first exposure to the story of Louisiana’s German coast (Deutsche Küste/Côte des Allemands).

  • four links of Louisiana German Coast-style spicy Andouille sausage 12 ounces) from Schaller & Weber’s Yorkville store placed inside a large Pyrex Flameware pot, filled with just enough cold water to cover, heated over a medium-high flame until the water had reached a gentle simmer, by which time, now fully cooked, they were removed, drained, and dried on a paper towel before being placed inside one of my prized ancient perfectly seasoned Wagner Ware cast iron pans over high heat (after its surface had been brushed with a very small amount of Mac Nut oil), seared, turning frequently until colored on all sides, then arranged on the plates with that brilliant condiment creation, Inglehoffer  cranberry mustard

  • one pound of so of Peter Wilcox potatoes (purple skin, golden flesh) from Windfall Farms, scrubbed, skins left on, halved, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from Phillips Farms, a bit of crushed dried Italian myrtle (It. Mirto) leaves from Buon Italia, and the same amount of dry crushed golden habanada pepper, the potatoes arranged, cut side down, on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 350º-375º for about 30 minutes, garnished with Micro red vein sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge

sea bass, tomato/olive salsa, micro sorrel; radicchio, leeks

It’s both a great fish and a luscious dish. Also, because of at least slight variations in the ingredients each time, starting with the kinds of tomatoes available, it never tastes quite the same. I think of that as a plus.

  • the preparations began with a salsa, assembled about 30 minutes in advance inside a small bowl, containing one cup of halved golden cherry tomatoes from Windfall Farms, half a cup of pitted and halved kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, 2 finely chopped fresh aji dulce peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, and a little olive oil, the mix set aside while the fish was cooked: four 4-ounce black sea bass fillets from American Seafood Company, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed skin side down over a fairly brisk flame in a little Mac Nut  macademia nut oil (which has a higher smoke point than olive oil) from Whole Foods Market inside a large, heavy antique oval copper skillet skin side down, turned after about 2 minutes, the other side cooked for about the same length of time, removed to 2 warm plates when done, 2 tablespoons of butter added to the pan and allowed to melt, a couple tablespoons of chopped peppermint from Keith’s Farm and chopped parsley from Quarton Farm tossed in, along with a tablespoon or more of Whole Foods Market organic lemon juice, and everything stirred for a few seconds before the sauce was spooned on top of the bass and the salsa set aside earlier arranged in a cascade between the 2 filets on each plate, both fish and salsa garnished with micro red vein sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge

marinated grilled octopus; potatoes, celery; sweet peppers

Neptune blesses our waters with an amazing variety of seafood, but the god has withheld one of my favorites.

Supposedly there are no octopus anywhere within at least hundreds of miles of our own fishers, although I see links on line that suggest otherwise, so maybe it’s just that a demand isn’t perceived here. In any event, no locals show up in the markets, so whenever the fancy strikes, I have to go all the way to Spain, at least figuratively, to bring baby octopus to the table, the only bad part being the carbon compounds consumed in the process.

I understand that today “Spanish octopus” [for that matter, also that enjoyed in Portugal] may now come “from Africa”, which probably means waters off the coast of the former Spanish Sahara (today Morocco), or possibly the Canary Islands (Spain, to be sure). Unfortunately I didn’t ask the fish monger at Lobster Place about the origin of those we enjoyed on Tuesday (I’m confident they have a record), but I hope to remember to do so the next time.

So I know little more about these particular Cephalopods than the fact they were incredibly delicious. I suspect some of the credit should go to the fact that this time I had an especially high flame below the large ribbed grill pan (the charred sections in the picture are witness to that).

  • four Spanish baby octopus, a total of 17 ounces (I believe they had been previously frozen) from our neighborhood seafood shop, Lobster Place, in Chelsea Market, marinated in and later outside of the refrigerator for about 2 hours altogether (although even a much shorter period also really works) in a mixture of 1/4 cup olive oil; one teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from the Madonie Mountains in Sicily; the zest and juice of half of an organic Whole Foods lemon; 1/4 teaspoon of crushed peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia; 1/2 teaspoon of sea salt; and one finely-chopped medium clove of ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm, chopped thinly, the octopus, now at room temperature, removed from the mix, drained a bit and grilled, the mouth, or beak side first, over a very high flame on top of a seasoned double-burner cast iron grill pan for 10 or 12 minutes, served with a squeeze of juice from the zested lemon and some olive oil, and garnished with micro arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm
  • eleven ounces of la Ratte potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, boiled, along with a generous amount of salt, drained, dried in the pan, halved, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with a local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly ground pepper, rolled in some chopped small celery stems and tossed with chopped celery leaves

picanha, reverse seared; pan-roasted potatoes; radiccchio

Looks aren’t everything.

The proof of the pudding is in the eating.

Good things come in threes.

Red is good.

I mean, to me the the picture looks good, and at least to anyone who might enjoy the kind of dinner it describes, it’s probably a fairly appetizing image.

What it doesn’t show however is just how really, really delicious the entire meal actually was, and the steak in particular. Last night I said that I’ve never had a better one, at home or in a restaurant, and Barry agreed.

All of the elements of the meal were familiar recipes, and proven favorites as well, but because I was altering the way I cook one of them, the steak, using a ‘reverse sear method’ for the first time [its merits discussed here], a certain amount of recalculation was required for all 3 parts of the dinner.

The recipe for the potatoes is brilliant, and I’m sure to be revisiting it under similar circumstances, in warm weather when I don’t want to use an oven, or when I might just some delicious stove-top roasted potatoes.

I was planning to have roasted potatoes last night (I had some nice La Ratte fingerlings in my virtual root cellar), and I would normally have preferred roasting the radicchio with some thyme branches, but the oven both would need was going to be engaged with the steak at too low a temperature for either of the vegetables until shortly before the meal would be completed. I realized this at just about the time I was to begin the preparation of the meal, so I quickly searched on line for a recipe that would produce a potato dish more appropriate for accompanying a good steak than simple boiled potatoes (finding an excellent one here, from Amanda Hesser‘s site, Food52), and I revised the plan for the chicory, moving the cooking to a burner top and also totally simplifying its preparation.

They may not have looked like roasted potatoes when they started out, but if I hadn’t been there all through the process, they could have fooled me once they were done.

  • one 19-ounce picanha steak (called ‘culotte’ here, ‘coulotte’ in France, ‘picanha’ in Brazil), from Gabe, of Sun Fed Beef (Maple Avenue Farms) in the farm’s stall at the Union Square Greenmarket, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed on a rack in, as I’m suggesting now, a 275º oven for 15 or 20 minutes [that timing estimate will have to be examined the next time, since last night I used an even lower temperature, for a longer period, but the cooking didn’t seem to be actually happening, so I eventually raised the heat], or until medium rare, meaning a thermometer reading of 120º, then seared briefly on all sides (the steak was already fully cooked, so left on the surface just long enough to impart color, lingering just a bit longer on the top, thick, fat-covered side) inside a dry oval heavy cast iron pan, after first placing on the surface a little cooking oil with a higher smoke point than olive oil (I used Mac Nut macademia nut oil from Whole Foods Market) and immediately applying pressure in the center with a wooden spoon, to keep its middle surface from rising from the surface of the pan, then removed from the heat, cut into 2 sections, and allowed to rest for up to 10 minutes while covered loosely with foil, arranged on 2 warm plates, some juice from an organic Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed on top, sprinkled with chopped fresh rue from Stokes Farm, and drizzled with a Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil

  • eleven or 12 ounces of small Adirondack Red potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, each less than 2 inches in size, scrubbed, halved, and set aside while a large antique, very well seasoned Wagner Ware cast iron pan in which enough olive oil had been added to coat the bottom 1/8 inch deep was heated over a medium flame until the oil began to shimmer, a generous layer of salt [but not too much] scattered into the oil all over the bottom of the pan as evenly as possible, the potatoes, the pieces of the second cut kept together so the potatoes look like just one half, placed cut side down on the bottom of the pan and fried at medium heat, without touching, for about 10 minutes, depending on the size of the potatoes, at which time one potato half was turned over and checked to see if it was nicely colored (if not, the cooking would be allowed to continue a few more minutes), and when the potatoes were nicely browned, the heat was turned as low as possible and a glass cover placed on the pan, with the potatoes continuing to brown under cover, for about 20 minutes more, or until done, when they were seasoned with black pepper, arranged on the plates, and garnished with micro kale from Norwich Meadows Farm [the potatoes can be kept covered with the heat off, for 30 minutes or more, but if they are allowed to stand, any excess oil should be drained from the pan [they are equally good at room temperature]

  • the outer leaves, about 11 ounces by weight, from one 17-ounce head of rosa di verona radicchio (the oldest red chicory, and still the classic, although these were not round, but somewhat elongated, from Campo Rosso Farm, washed and drained, cut very roughly, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until tender to the bite and starting to brown just a bit, or maybe 6 to 8 minutes, sprinkle with salt and black pepper, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a little more olive oil [as with the potatoes, timing is really not very critical, as the chicory can be serves warm or at room temperature]
  • the wine was an Italian (Tuscany/Castiglioni) red, Tenuta Frescobaldi di Castiglioni 2017,from Philippe Wines
  • the music was Mahler’s Symphony No. 6, Claudio Abbado conducting the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra