Our favorite chops.

The tomatoes and the collards are pretty fine too.

• two 9-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market was squeezed over the top (the lemon then left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed in a 425º oven for about 7 minutes, then flipped, part of a golden dried habanada pepper, crushed, added, the lemon squeezed over them once again and replaced inside the pan for another 3 or 4 minutes, when 4 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market were added and the pan returned to the oven for about 4 more minutes, when the chops were removed and arranged on 2 warm plates while the tomatoes were turned onto their round sides and the the pan heated on the top of the stove over a medium-high flame until the pork and tomato juices had reduced to almost a syrup and spooned over the chops, which were sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, the tomatoes garnished with micro scallions, also from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed 3 times, drained, some of the water retained and held aside, to be added as the greens cooked if necessary, the leaves and tender stems cut roughly, braised until gently wilted inside a medium heavy vintage, high-sided, tin-lined copper pot in which 2 halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been allowed to sweat over a low flame with some olive oil, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Langhe) white, Cagliero Rabel Langhe Bianco 2013 from Astor Wines
• the music was an album of music composed by Orazio Vecchi (1550-1605) that included ‘Amfiparnaso’ (1597), a madrigal-comedy cycle, and ‘The Musical Banquet’ (1597), which is just as the title suggests

It was very simple, and very satisfying.

• about one fourth of a cup of shelled walnuts, spread onto a small vintage rolled-edge tin baking sheet, toasted in a 350º oven for 8 to 12 minutes, or until fragrant, shaking them a couple times to keep from burning, removed, chopped roughly and added to a medium-size vintage tin-lined copper pot in which 4 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ (total fat 12g) had been melted over medium-low heat, the nuts cooked for 3 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the butter began to turn a rich golden-brown, one teaspoon of dried sage from Phillips Farm (purchased fresh last fall), a bit of dark dried habanada, and one tablespoon of balsamic vinegar added and briefly stirred over a lowered flame, being careful not to burn the butter, the heat turned off and the contents of a 400g of cooked and drained ‘mamma emma gnocchi made with steamed fresh potatoes and pumpkin‘ from Eataly added and stirred into the sauce, the gnocchi divided between two shallow bowls and garnished with baby mizuna from Norwich Meadows Farm
• the wine was a wonderful Italian (Südtirol/Alto Adige) white, Alois Lageder Dolomiti Pinot Grigio 2016, from Philippe Wines 
• the music was the album, ‘Une Fête chez Rabelais – Chansons et pièces instrumentales’, Dominique Visse directing the ensemble Clément Janequin

William Merritt Chase, ‘An English Cod’ 1904

 

This dinner, I had determined at the time we sat down, wasn’t going to be included on this site: Because we were sharing it with guests Seb and Joe, because I had been very much distracted by the more-than-lively conversation throughout its preparation, and just because we were having so much fun, I didn’t want to interrupt things just to photograph it. Barry and I were both surprised I even managed to put it together.

But once I realized how delicious it was, and because I wanted our guests to know what was in it, I changed my mind about a post, even if I had no photos to accompany it.

I knew I could find an exciting image somewhere to put at the top, but I didn’t know it would be of a painting of a rented cod (I’d bought our cod, and there were no sardines).

Before the dinner itself, we enjoyed some Fiori di Puglia pepperoncino-flavored taralli from Buon Italia.

• the wine was a California (Central Coast) sparkling white, Eponina Brut California NV, from Naked Wines

We began the meal itself with a local salumi.

• Cesare Casella’s Giorgio’s Salami New York spicy coppa, from Eataly, drizzled with drops of a very good Sicilian olive oil from from Agricento, Azienda Agricola Mandranova (exclusively Nocellara olives), arranged with a few leaves of arugula from Lani’s Farm, dressed with sea salt, a bit of the same oil, and drops of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon
• served with slices from a loaf of ‘rustic classic’ from Eataly
• the wine was an Italian (Piedmont), Erbaluce di Caluso ‘La Torrazza’, Ferrando 2014, from Astor Wines

I’ve prepared the fish entrée that followed so often that I could almost do it with my eyes closed. Actually, I almost had to do that on Friday , since the main, overhead light popped out half of the way through my labors in the  in the kitchen. In the end it was the best version ever, which is one of the reasons I’m writing this now.

Incidentally, hake, or whiting could be substituted for the cod.

• one long absolutely white fillet of Atlantic cod (25 ounces) that had been caught off eastern Long Island the day before, from Pura Vida Seafood, prepared mostly following an old recipe from Mark Bittman that I had come across years ago: the cod washed and rinsed, placed in a platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the piece was as completely covered as possible (because of its length, with this one I had to be sure to apply salt between the 2 surfaces of the tail end as I flipped it over to keep it inside the edges of the platter), then set aside while a bed of potatoes was prepared for them by slicing nearly 2 pounds of really wonderful ‘pinto potatoes’ (or ‘pinto gold’) from Norwich Meadows Farm to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch, tossing the potatoes in a large bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a large pinch of orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper [acquired in the fall of 2016 from Norwich Meadows Farm], arranging the potatoes, heavily overlapping this time, because there were so many, in a large rectangular  enameled cast iron oven pan, placing them in a 400º oven for 25 minutes or so, or until they were tender when pierced, and half way through that time the cod was removed from the salt and the platter on which it had been resting, and thoroughly immersed or soaked in many changes of cold running water, to bring down the saltiness (the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while it’s being handled it at this point), drained and dried, cut, rather expertly I have to say, to produce 4 pieces of equal weight from a very irregular piece of fish, before placing the cod on top of the potatoes, drizzling the pieces with a little olive oil and scattering some freshly-ground black pepper on top, returning the pan to the oven for about 15 minutes (the exact time will always depends on the thickness of the cod), removing the fish with a wooden spatula (or, even much better, 2 wooden spatulas), bringing along with as much of the potatoes as possible with each piece, arranging everything, intact if possible (it was), onto 2 plates, returning to the pan for the remainder of the potatoes, the 4 servings garnished with micro scallions from Windfall Farms
• red kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in olive oil in which 2 bruised and halved garlic cloves from Tamarack Hollow Farm had first been allowed to sweat and barely begin to brown, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little more olive oil
• the wine was a California (Central Coast) white, Rick Boyer Central Coast Chardonnay 2016, also from Naked Wines

 

• the music during the meal began with conversation alone, and then, when it turned to the subject of music, continued with the sounds of the album, ‘Eastman: Unjust Malaise, with some of the music of Julius Eastman (1940?-1990); I think we went to the fifteenth century after that

 

[the image is William Merritt Chase, ‘An English Cod’ 1904, oil on canvas, in the Corcoran Gallery of Art since 1905, from this site]

It was a terrific meal, not least because Barry is healing, wine has returned to the table as customary as before, we were able to relax throughout, and well beyond.

• *one fourteen and a half-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing on the counter for about 45 minutes before it was pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled  cast iron pan over medium heat for a total of 8 or 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes [the fat to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center was of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before finished with a drizzle of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, garnished with snipped garlic chives from John D. Madura Farm and finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• *four ripe Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, placed cut side down inside the pan as the duck breast was finishing cooking, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• *one pound of Japanese sweet potatoes from Samascott Orchards, unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, cut as french fries, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, than roasted just above 400º in my trusty well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan for about 35 minutes, or until crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and chewy on the edges, sprinkled with a bit of a Spanish dulce paprika, and garnished with micro buckwheat cress from Windfall Farms
• *the wine was a California (Los Carneros) red, Sin Fronteras Los Primos Red Wine California 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was the Spanish composer Emilio Arrieta’s 1850 ‘La Conquista Di Granata’, an opera commissioned by Queen Isabella II to honor her by association with Isabella I and the final conquest of the Spanish christians over the Moorish infidel some 350 years earlier (the music is beautiful, somewhat ‘Verdian’,  but apparently it’s best to ignore the racist libretto), Jesús López Cobos, whose death last Friday we had heard about only today, conducting the Chorus and Orchestra of the Madrid Symphony

We were back in Italy, at home last night, where we listened to an Italian-language opera which declaimed the virtues of Flavius Aetius (Ezio), ‘the last of the Romans’ (even thought he was half German).

• four ounces of Applegate uncured soppressata from Whole Foods Market, drizzled with a very good Sicilian olive oil, Azienda Agricola Mandranova (exclusively Nocellara olives), arranged at the edge of a generous spray of washed and dried arugula from Lani’s Farm that had been dressed with the same oil, a bit of Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and served with slices of a fantastic dark and dense rusty bread that had been baked inside Flatiron Eataly, ‘Mediterraneo’ (whole rye flour, stone-milled wheat flour, 5 seeds, plus millet and faro)
• two or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ melted inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot, joined by a crushed piece of dried orange habanada pepper, some sea salt and freshly-ground black  pepper, allowed to continue heating for a minute, at least a tablespoon of zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon stirred in, 12 ounces of a fresh lemon & ricotta-filled agnolotti made in Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop, also inside the Flatiron Eataly emporium, that had been cooked until very al dente (2 minutes?) and drained, and about half a cup of pasta cooking water added and gradually stirred in while the pot was over a medium-to-medium-high flame, stirred for about one minute, or until the liquid had emulsified and the sauce had become smooth and creamy, finally divided between 2 shallow low bowls, a bit of Parmigiano Reggiano Hombre from Whole Foods Market grated over the top, and the pasta garnished with pea greens from Windfall Farms
• the wine was a lovely Italian (Campania) white, Colli di Lapio Fiano di Avellino 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Gluck’s 1750 (pre-reform) opera, ‘Ezio’, with a libretto by Metastasio, Alan Curtis conducting the ensemble , Il Complesso Barocco

(the picture was taken just before the mustard arrived on the plate)

 

Dinner was going to be a new sausage from the Greenmarket that I had been anticipating for more than a week, but then I realized that Barry was going to be on the upper East Side that afternoon, so I took the opportunity to ask him to bring home some fresh, from Schaller & Weber, because it is a source not as easily visited from central Chelsea as Union Square.

The rest of the meal was more or less cobbled together on the basis of color and texture, and, in spite of the flags raised by its individual elements, it really didn’t belong to any particular cooking tradition, other than my own.

• four spicy smoked sausages made by and from Schaller & Weber, (pork and beef, slow smoked with hardwood) pan grilled until they looked a little blistery, arranged on top of a spray of arugula from Lani’s Farm, dressed with a little Portuguese olive oil, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, with a little Düsseldorf mustard, Löwensenf Medium, also from Schaller & Weber, on the side
• ‘Magic Molly’ fingerling potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm (they’re awesome to look at, before and after cooking, and they taste even better than they look), scrubbed unpeeled, dried, sliced lengthwise, mixed inside a bowl with one medium red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a tablespoon or two of Portuguese olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a piece of crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper, a small handful of rosemary leaves from John D, Madura Farm, stripped from their stems, everything arranged on the surface of a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 400º for about 30 minutes, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with toasted home-made breadcrumbs and garnished with pea greens from Windfall Farms
• the wine was a California (Sierra Foothills) red, David Marchesi Sierra Foothills Proprietary Red 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Pier Francesco Cavalli’s 1657 opera, ‘Artemisia’, Claudio Cavina conducting La Venexiana

I slept late, and Monday is a slow Greenmarket day, so I decided that the better part of a creative foraging outing might take me to our neighborhood Whole Foods Market, which is only down the block. I almost never purchase an entrée their, but I make an exception for their salmon. It’s not local of course, but there was once a time when salmon flourished in our local waters. Effectively, unless it’s farmed (in areas much further north and east of New York and New England, or even still much further away, in the southeastern of southwestern Pacific), it has to have come from the Pacific northwest, but I foster the conceit that what we are enjoying is the bounty which has followed the reintroduction of this noble species into our local streams and coastal waters years from now.

The chard had come home with me from Union Square farmer’s stall on Saturday. It was obviously very fresh, because 2 days later it seemed to be in the same superb condition in which I had found it, and it was one as delicious as any I had ever prepared.

The potatoes, as they were potatoes, were less of a concern for absolute freshness, but I was happy that we would be able to enjoy the last of a bag I had purchased 12 days before.

• one fourteen-ounce fillet of Pacific coho salmon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, the skin left on, halved, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, the flesh side [CORRECTION: this should have read “the former skin side”, and in fact this time I incorrectly pressed the mixture on the flesh side] pressed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, sautéed in a little olive oil over a medium-high flame inside an enameled, oval cast iron pan over medium-high heat, the flesh side down, for 2 or 3 minutes or so, then turned over and cooked for another 2 or 3 minutes, finished on the plate with a little squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of a good olive oil, garnished with micro buckwheat greens from Windfall Farms
• a few ‘Kennebec’ potatoes from Keith’s 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 some good Portuguese olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, where they were sprinkled with toasted homemade bread crumbs and garnished with micro buckwheat greens from Windfall Farms
• *a modest amount of rainbow chard (the apposite cost of this miracle vegetable when it is grown in early March suggests I use restraint), from Norwich Meadows Farm, purchased from their stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had first been heated and slightly softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and finished with a drizzle of the Portuguese olive oil and a bit of lemon juice
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, Jacqueline Bahue Cabernet Franc Sonoma Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1729 opera, ‘Lotario‘ (Lothair), Alan Curtis conducting the ensemble, Il Complesso Barocco; the opera’s Wikipedia entry suggests that it was one of his least successful (one of the composer’s librettists, who did not have any part in this one, wrote “everyone thinks (Lotario) a very bad opera”), but the music is wonderful

Putting a dish onto the table that’s as simple, easy, and delicious as this one is like, well, not making your cake but still getting to eat it.

• two tablespoons of olive oil heated over medium heat inside a large antique, heavy tin-lined copper pot, a pinch of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi from Buon Italia and another pinch of golden/orange habanada pepper, the combination added in order to introduce a very subtle complexity to the dish, added and stirred over heat for about 10 seconds, followed by a half dozen or so halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, and then the contents of a 10-ounce package of cooked and drained Rana spinaci e ricotta [spinach and ricotta] ravioli from Eataly, the pasta gently stirred into the pot, and some reserved pasta water added and stirred with the contents of the pot until the liquid had emulsified, some cut sections of garlic chives from John D. Madura Farm mixed in, the pasta and sauce transferred to shallow bowls and finished with some gently-toasted home-made breadcrumbs and more of the garlic chives, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta
• the very little wine that was consumed by [one of us] was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was a 1650 opera of Gioseffo Zamponi, ‘Ulisse All’isola Di Circe’, Leonardo Garcia Alarcon conducting the Namur Chamber Choir, Clematis Ensemble, and Capella Mediterranea

Today, after encountering some difficulties in slicing the loaf the first time I tried, one week ago, I finally arranged to serve a breakfast (actually a late lunch) of eggs and, ..scrapple!

Okay, it does look somewhat monochromatic; I don’t know why I couldn’t have introduced a cherry tomato or two.

Although conventional wisdom would describe this as a Lancaster County breakfast, it would not have looked out of place in the area my parents were from in Wisconsin, or, for that matter, in the areas where their own families had originated early in the 19th century. The Amish themselves, popularly known as ‘Pennsylvania Dutch’, whether in Pennsylvania or elsewhere, are not ‘Dutch’ at all, except that, along with the people of the Netherlands, they share membership in the larger Germanic ethnic group.  For hundreds of years the appellation, ‘Dutch’ was used in English to describe people from both the Netherlands and Germany.

As for the scrapple, unless you are or feel close to the culinary traditions of ‘the Dutch’, in the larger sense, don’t look carefully at the picture below.

It was a lot of fun doing this for the first time, and it was delicious. Oh, and, compared to bacon, it’s obviously ein Schnäppchen [a bargain].

There will be more color the next time.

The presentation was clearly much simper than most of these breakfasts/lunches, in deference to a culture I respect, but to which I’m not actually attached.

• eight ounces of scrapple from Millport Dairy Farm. sliced about 1/4″ thick, breaded on both sides, using a local whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills in the Union Square Greenmarket, fried, turning once, inside a large, very hot seasoned cast iron pan until each side had been seen beginning to brown on the surfaces touching the pan, removed and kept warm in a very slow oven, half a dozen Americauna eggs from the Amish of Millport Dairy Farm replacing them inside the pan, after some butter was added, the 6 Spiegeleier finished with Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a sprinkling of garlic chives (Germans use garlic and chives, I reasoned), served with toast from 2 kinds of bread, a day-old mini-baguette and a Balthazar rye boule, both from Whole Foods Market
• the music today, within a long Sunday liturgical breakfast tradition, marked the first of a number of anticipated seasonal ‘passions’ (musical narratives from the Gospels), Orlando de Lassus’ ‘St. Matthew Passion’, Bo Holten, conducting Bo Holten conducting Musica Ficta

Ocean perch. It’s a beautiful fish, and always a treat, even when if one of the diners has to negotiate it while suffering the temporary loss of the use of one hand.

Dealing with the vegetable ended up the larger challenge.

• *four red-skinned ocean perch fillets (18 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, and dried, both sides brushed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with a total of little more than one  teaspoon of a chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and the white section of one thinly-sliced scallion from Phillips Farms, the fish seasoned, also on both sides, with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside an enameled cast iron pan and broiled, skin side up, 4 or 5 inches from the flames, for 4 or 5 minutes, or until the skin had become crisp and the fish was cooked through, finished on the plates with a sauce that had already been prepared by gently heating 2 salted anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, in a bit of olive oil over a very low flame for about 4 minutes until they had fallen apart, the sauce kept warm while the fillets were broiled, the perch garnished with micro buckwheat greens (with a mild sorrel, or lemon flavor), Whole Foods Market organic lemon wedges served on the side
• *one bunch of sweet baby bok choy from Northshire Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket (secretly paid for by an anonymous benefactor), added to a heavy vintage large tin-lined copper pot inside of which 2 bruised and halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been heated until beginning to brown, the choy stirred until tender, occasionally introducing some of the water which they had shed after being washed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, scattered with some washed, dried, then very roughly cut garlic chives from Lani’s Farm,  drizzled with olive oil
• there was no wine, since it was temporarily forbidden each of us for a few days, for different reasons
• *the music was Vivaldi’s 1726 opera, ‘Il Farnace’, in an extraordinarily beautiful performance led by Jordi Savall; it was now at least our third hearing, not counting this one, from over 12 years ago, in which Vivaldi’s music accompanies Muntean/Rosenblum’s ‘It Is Never Facts That Tell’, the collaborative’s digital projection of a great world emptied and reduced to an enormous landfill, achingly beautiful, even without the music which accompanies its hooded figures