Swordfish belly.

It was beautiful, lying inside a tub on the ice. I had almost no idea what it was, or at least I didn’t know what if would taste like, or how I should cook it, but when I saw it at the fisherman’s stand in Union Square on Monday I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to find out.

I immediately began to look everywhere on line, but I found almost nothing, which really surprised me. Most of what I did come across, and almost all of the images, was connected to the doings of high-end chefs and restaurants (as in, dainty and very pretty little appetizers). One writer wrote that he or she had decided to try it because, well, pork belly, and tuna belly, both of which had become quite a thing in recent years, so why not swordfish belly?

Indeed.

I did do a paper search as well, but there was absolutely nothing in any of my own files or cookbooks on the subject.

By that time I had gathered that at least I wasn’t coming in at the tail end of a new food fad.

I did manage to put together a recipe myself, informed a little by what I had seen, and entirely from ingredients I had on hand. The basic idea was to arrange some good flavors, and to avoid masking the subtlety of that which I expected from the swordfish itself.

The steak was delicious. We were fortunate to be able to share it and its juices with 2 very congenial vegetables and their own juices. That usually calls for a good crusty bread, and I had one ready.

• one swordfish belly steak (13 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to room temperature, skinned (although I’m not sure that it would have been inedible, as it is with regular swordfish steaks), cut into 1½ to 2-inch-wide sections that were not too thick (say, less than one inch), briefly seared, 30 seconds on the first side, 15 on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter) enameled cast iron pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until very it was very hot, the fish removed and arranged on the plates, the heat under the pan turned down a bit and one chopped fresh habanada pepper and 6 or 8 pitted and halved black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia pushed around inside of it until they had warmed, these then arranged on the swordfish, everything seasoned with Maldon salt and drizzled with a little organic lemon from Trader Joe’s, finished with a garnish of micro fennel from Windfall Farm
• one very-thinly-sliced medium shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in 2 tablespoons of olive oil inside a heavy, high-sided tin-lined copper pan until softened, then one broadly/roughly-chopped Radicchio Variegato di Castelfranco from Campo Rosso Farm introduced into the pan, some salt and pepper added, the chicory stirred until it had barely wilted, finished with a small splash of balsamic vinegar and arranged on the plates
• two bright heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, sliced, gently heated inside a smaller tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, some chopped oregano from Keith’s Farm stirred in, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more oregano, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1723 opera, ‘Ercole’, Fabio Biondi directing the ensemble, Europa Galante

I don’t normally do stews. I don’t have anything particular against them. Maybe I usually like to work fast, or maybe I prefer the neatness of a more aggressive relationship between food and heat than that associated with dishes called stews.

But the luscious product of this quite simple recipe could change my mind, especially since I cam imagine how well it might be suited for serving to guests as a casual entrée. I found it while looking for something this past Sunday night to match both my food stores (a single monkfish tail, lots of heirloom tomatoes, handfuls of small okra)  and the time I had available to make dinner. It was fairly quick to prepare, and the process itself pretty straightforward.

The reward was the happy melding of ingredients, and a wonderful savory creamy sauce that had absolutely nothing to do with cows.

• two cups of chopped heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and one cup of chopped yellow onions from Neversink Organic Farm, sautéed in 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large, heavy tin-lined high-sided copper pot over a medium-high flame for about 8 minutes, or until the onions had softened and the tomatoes had virtually become a sauce (turning the heat up still higher near the end to reduce the amount of liquid, since they were heirlooms, and not a sturdier breed), seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then ½ cup loosely packed chopped mint from mint from Alex’s Tomato Farm and ¼ cup loosely packed chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm (tarragon would actually be the first choice, but I didn’t have any), ¼ cup white wine and 2 to 3 tablespoons of a good white wine vinegar, here Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia, were all added and the contents of the pot allowed to continue to cook for about 2 minutes, or until the smells of the wine and vinegar had dissipated, a one pound monkfish tail, from American Seafood Company in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, sliced into pieces 1 ½ inch thick, added to the tomato mixture, the pot now covered, and cooked for 5 minutes, or until the flesh was opaque, then uncovered, the fish turned over and cooked for another 2 minutes, served sprinkled some of the fresh herbs

• handfuls of small okra from Kernan Farms, their stems trimmed, washed, dried thoroughly, sautéed over a high flame in a large cast iron pan with a little olive oil and 2 crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, seasoned with sea salt, served in broad low bowls to the side of the the monkfish stew
• the wine was a wonderful Greek (Thessaly) white, Zafeirakis, Malagousia, 2016, from Flatiron Wines; it turned out to be a perfect pairing
• the music was Mozart’s ‘La Finta Giardiniera’, Nicolas Harnoncourt conducting Concentus Musicus Wien

It wasn’t Sunday breakfast, and we can’t even pretend it was brunch; we had our first meal of the day somewhere between the hours when decent folks have their lunches and dinners.

Maybe that’s why I ended up putting so much into it. While the meal looks fairly straightforward in the picture, at least by my bacon-&-eggs custom, there were definitely even more herbs and spices than usual.

NOTE; Not quite visible in the photo was my pleasure in having finally kept 6 yokes intact on their voyage from shell to table; I’m rarely able to manage that.

• the elements that arrived on the plates were: thick slices of bacon and large very fresh pullet eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; lightly-toasted slices of 2 breads, a ciabatta from Bread Alone (local unbleached wheat flours), and a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market; a bit of sliced green stem from a Scarlet scallion and one finely-slice fresh habanada pepper (the first of the season!) both from Norwich Meadows Farm; a pinch of  L’ekama in dry spice form from NYShuk Pantry; chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm; a pinch of dried fenugreek from Nirmala Gupta’s ‘Bombay Emerald Chutney Company‘ at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street; a bit of fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures; rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’; Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper; and some strands of fresh (micro) fennel from Windfall Farm
• the meal was late, but the music choice, a set of evening songs set by Monteverdi, didn’t quite reflect the hour: was Monteverdi’s incredibly-beautiful 1610 ‘Vespers of the Blessed Virgin’, performed by the English Baroque Soloists and John Eliot Gardiner

The best sole I’ve ever prepared. Did it start with the size of the fillet?  It was thicker than any I remember ever having cooked, and I mostly followed a recipe I hadn’t worked with before.

But it was also very fresh.

Was the entrée Italian or French?

I originally thought I would accompany it by pan-roasting some small okra, mostly because I had some inside the refrigerator, but Barry pushed for buttered boiled potatoes, as more sympathetic to this recipe, and I knew I had on hand some of the very best, sitting inside a covered basket waiting to be summoned.

There was another vegetable, a newly-bred sweet pepper, and its introduction to the mix meant that the meal’s cultural roots couldn’t be described as anything other than ‘New York City in the teens’.

• a portion of a thick lemon sole from Pure Vida Seafood (13 ounces), divided into 2 pieces, salted, coated with North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour and set aside while 6 thin slices of an organic lemon from Trader Joe’s Market were placed in more than a tablespoon of melted butter inside a large heavy tin-lined oval copper pan over medium heat and cooked until the lemon had slightly browned, or about 2 minutes (it may be necessary to add more butter, or a bit of olive oil), when they were pushed to the side of the pan the 2 pieces of sole added, turned once, and cooked until done, or until the flesh was no longer translucent (a little more than 2 minutes per side), 2 more tablespoons of butter and more than a teaspoon of  salted Sicilian capers, ,thoroughly rinsed, added to the skillet, which was then removed from the heat and tilted to swirl the butter until it melted, the sole and lemon arranged on individual plates, the capers, butter, and juices spooned  over the top, micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge arranged as a garnish
• German Butterball potatoes from Berried Treasures, Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in salted water until barely cooked through, drained, dried in the large still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, a couple tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ [with 12 grams of fat per 14 grams, for each tablespoon of butter; American butter almost always has only 11grams, which makes a surprising difference in taste and texture], the potatoes seasoned with sea salt and black pepper and arranged on the plates, where they were sprinkled with micro fennel from Windfall Farms
• two small ‘mad hatter’ peppers from Homesweet Homegrown in the Union Square Greenmarket, deconstructed by being sliced thinly, producing star-like shapes, sautéed until softened in a little olive oil inside a small tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, garnished on the plates with a little chopped fennel frond from a fennel bulb from Hawthorne Valley Farm

There was a cheese course, not pictured, which included a terrific bread.

• three different cow cheeses, all from Consider Bardwell Farm: ‘Pawlet’, ‘Rupert’, and ‘Bardem Blue – Reconsidered’
• slices of a ciabatta (with local unbleached wheat flours) from Bread Alone

• the wine was a South African (Western Cape) white, Neil Ellis, Chardonnay ‘Sincerely’, 2016, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Mozart: Serenata notturna, 3 Divertimenti & Eine kleine Nachtmusik‘, Terje Tonnesen conducting Camerata Nordica

I’ve done it before, in fact more than once: This shrimp recipe is an awesome treat each time.

The vegetable accompaniment has always been a tomato something. The flavors are a brilliant match, and the colors are as well (which is not always a good thing, but there are a lot of flavors moving around inside these 2 dishes).

That’s where I went again tonight.

• one teaspoon of chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, heated inside a heavy (13 1/2″) cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, a pinch of Spanish saffron, one whole dried chipotle pepper from Northshire Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket (do not squish it), one crushed section of a dried orange-gold habanada pepper, and a teaspoon of freshly-ground dried cumin seed from Eataly added, all of it stirred for a minute or two, then 14 ounces (12 count) of Hudson Valley farmed jumbo shrimp from Eco Shrimp Garden (cut all along their backs, from head to tail, for ease of shelling later, but I’m not convinced that actually makes it any easier) added, seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit, and the shrimp cooked until firm while turned twice, then served with a generous squeeze of lemon, garnished on the plates with micro fennel from Windfall Farms [the micro greens are my addition to Mark Bittman’s terrific recipe, and may seem like overkill, but they really work with the other flavors, and they also look pretty good]
• a bit of one thick scallion from Alex’s Tomato Farm, sourced at the Saturday 23rd St Greenmarket, and one small pink onion (“I like to call them rosé onions”, says Tyler, the farmer/owner of Alewife Farm, in the Union Square Greenmarket), both moderately sliced, heated slowly inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until softened, then one large heirloom tomato, sliced, slipped into the pan and barely heated, still above a low flame, a generous amount of torn basil from Stokes Farm, sea salt, a pinch or two os sugar added and stirred in, a generous amount of torn basil from Stokes Farm, sea salt, a pinch or two of sugar added and also mixed in, the tomatoes served with pinches of fenugreek that I had purchased from Nirmala Gupta’s ‘Bombay Emerald Chutney Company‘ at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, and garnished with some additional (uncooked and finely-sliced) parts of the scallion and the pink onion used earlier sprinkled on top, along with more of the basil [NOTE: the additional basil wasn’t added until after the photo above was taken]
• a She Wolf Bakery Baguette (60% organic roller-milled white flour, 40% farmer-ground half-white organic stone-milled high-extraction flour, natural leaven, kosher salt, yeast)
• the wine was an Italian (Langhe) white, Nino Costa – Roero Arneis 2016, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits, 35 8th Avenue
• the music was a great 1991 recording of Handel’s 1733 opera, ‘Orlando’, Christopher Hogwood conducting the Academy of Ancient Music, with David Thomas, Arleen Augér, Catherine Robbin, Emma Kirkby, and James Bowman

I had no plan for what I was going to make for dinner, other than that 2 ripe plum tomatoes would be a part of it. Then I remembered that Barry was going to be very near Schaller & Weber on the Upper East Side that afternoon, and I knew that one of their excellent ‘ancestral’ German wursts would do just fine. Or maybe something not so traditional, like their terrific smoked ‘hatch pepper‘ chili sausages. We had enjoyed them at their Stube and at home, but we thought they had only been a short-term summer special. Neither of us expected they would still have any, but they were there when Barry checked their Metzgerei selection.

I wasn’t sure what to serve with those two choices, tomato and spicy sausage (they didn’t seem to add up to a full meal on their own). I had just about decided on a few small boiled potatoes, with some fresh herb, when I remembered I had brought home some really small cucumbers earlier in the day. Now the meal would be neither German nor Italian; maybe it was just New York-ish.

(these cukes are only 2 to 2 1/2 inches long)

• four smoked hatch spicy chile sausages from Schaller & Weber, pan grilled until they looked a little blistery
• two ripe ‘striped Roman’ heirloom plum tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, halved, their surfaces dried, the cut sides placed on top of a mix of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper spread across a plate, pan-grilled inside an enameled cast iron pan for a few minutes, turned, the grilling continued for about the same length of time, removed, arranged on the 2 plates, brushed with a bit of olive oil and a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar
• a couple handfuls of tiny cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm (they were labelled, ‘Excelsior’, but they seemed to me to be several different kinds), sliced lengthwise, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pan until they had begun to caramelize, and, shortly before that moment, joined by thick slices of a ‘scarlet’, or ‘Japanese’ scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm and some finely-chopped pieces of a small Calabrian medium-hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, seasoned with se salt and freshly-ground black pepper, served on the plates sprinkled with a little micro sorrel from Two Guy from Woodbridge and drizzled with olive oil
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Tempranillo 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Francesco Antonio Bonporti’s 10 Inventions, Op. 10

Still summer.

• one 12-ounce tuna steak from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, halved at home, rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of a dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, the tuna also seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and served with a bit of micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, some olive oil drizzled on top
• a mix of several kinds of baby summer squash from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced lengthwise into 1/4″ sections, tossed with olive oil, sea salt, black pepper, and spearmint from Stokes Farm, arranged on top of a well-seasoned 2-burner cast iron grill and cooked, turning at least once, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little olive oil [probably because it was getting late, I prepared the squash more simply than I normally do, and next time I would mix the slices with the mint after they have been grilled]
• the wine was an Italian (Puglia) white, Masseria Li Veli Verdeca 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Sturm Und Drang’, music of Nicolas Bacri (b. 1961)

How does one lamb chop differ from the next? How can one be so much more delicious than the other? I don’t know the answer, but if he were around while I’m writing this, I’d start by asking Walter Adam, of Shannon Brook Farm.

Walter’s were pretty stupendous, last night.

• four lamb loin chops (21 ounces), grass-fed and organic, from Shannon Brook Farm, in the New York Finger Lakes, brought to room temperature, dried thoroughly, cooked on a very hot enameled cast iron grill pan for a total of 10 or 12 minutes, turning them over twice, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper after the first time, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, scattered with some chopped rosemary from Phillip’s Farm, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• one small finely-chopped red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a finely-chopped Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, introduced to 3 tablespoons of olive oil already been heated above a high flame inside a very large cast iron pan, then stirred for a minute or so until the alliums had just begun to color, a bit of a finely-chopped small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm and some chopped spearmint leaves from Stokes Farm added and stirred in, followed by some baby cauliflower of several colors and one head of Romanesco broccoli from Norwich Meadows Farm, the florets and smaller stems separated into bite-size pieces, everything sautéed, or braised, a little water added if necessary, for 7 to 10 minutes, or until the ‘cabbages’ were barely tender, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground pepper
• the wine was a California (Santa Barbara) red, Rick Boyer Santa Barbara County Syrah 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Mozart’s Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 5, and his Sinfonia Concertante, performed by Vilde Frang, Jonathan Cohen conducting his chamber orchestra, Arcangelo, with violist Maxim Rysanov joining them in the Sinfonia Concertante

There was no plan, other than the idea that some baby eggplant would play a major role in this pasta. But then I quickly learned that I had a smaller amount of the vegetable than I had thought, so I looked around the kitchen for a supporting cast.

I ended up with 2 kinds of tomatoes, 2 kinds of allium, and a bit of other stuff. What resulted was so delicious I’d say that the mix had proved to be inspired, except that my choices were more of necessity than imagination.

The biggest surprise however was the way it appeared when it arrived on the table: There were 2 different versions.  The first helping was loaded with pieces of eggplant and green tomato, but we couldn’t locate the cherry tomatoes inside the low bowls (the other, thinner and lighter-colored tomato just about melted into the pasta); when I scooped out the second, smaller serving from the pot in which everything had cooked, there were gold cherry tomatoes everywhere, but not a single section of eggplant could be seen. The small tomatoes had apparently slipped through the pasta, with an ease denied the eggplant, with its odd shapes. It’s a mystery why I hadn’t noticed that when serving the pasta, when I could have compensated for it.

• one large clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm heated with a tablespoon or more of olive oil (more added as needed during the following steps) inside a large tin-lined high-sided pot until softened, followed by 5 or 6 baby white eggplants from Berried Treasures, chopped into bite-size pieces, which were sautéed until they had begun to caramelize before one scarlet or Japanese scallion, thickly-sliced, and finely-chopped pieces of a small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm were added to the pot and allowed to soften, followed by stirring in 10 or so halved ripe orange cherry tomatoes and one small thinly-sliced light green heirloom tomato, all from Berried Treasures Farm, the vegetables seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and finally 8 ounces of Afeltra linguine from Eataly that had been cooked inside a large pot of salted water until barely al dente, then drained (reserving 1 cup of the cooking water), were added to the vegetables and mixed in, the reserved cooking water added as needed and stirred with the pasta, to emulsify the liquid, served in shallow bowls with a final drizzle of olive oil and sprinkled with Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly
• the wine was an Italian (Friuli) white, Ronchi di Cialla Ribolla Gialla 2015, from Garnet Wines

There was a dessert.

• a scoop of some terrific Riverine Ranch Water Buffalo Sweet Cream Ice Cream [buffalo milk, organic farm eggs, pure cane sugar, organic coconut flour, and salt] dropped into the hollowed-out deseeded cores of 2 horizontally-sliced portions of half of an Asian melon from Norwich Meadows Farm, some blackberries from Locust Grove Orchards scattered over both, and some of the berries, mashed with a little turbinado sugar and a teaspoon or so of Toschi Orzata Orgeat syrup, poured over the top

• the music was the album, ‘Bach & Mendelssohn: Piano Concertos‘, Sabine Weyer, piano, Olga Pak, violin (in the Mendelssohn, a Double Concerto), with the Berlin Camerata

• one very fresh, fairly-thick 16-ounce Long Island waters swordfish steak from Blue Moon Fish, divided at home into 2 pieces, marinated for half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, much of the pink section of a scarlet/Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, some fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures, and a very small amount of chopped medium hot Calabrian cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, the steaks drained well, coated on both sides with some homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for about 5  minutes on each side, tented with foil for at least a part of that time because of their thickness, removed to 2 plates, seasoned with Maldon salt, some of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed on top, drizzled with a little olive oil, and sprinkled with micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge

The side dish began with some spectacularly-colored eggplant.

• eight or ten small Turkish eggplants from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut horizontally into 3 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, 2 finely-chopped Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, 6 or 8 pitted and halved Kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan over a brisk flame, turning once or twice, sprinkled with chopped spearmint leaves from Stokes Farm, served on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• torn pieces of an ‘everyday baguette’ from Hot Bread Kitchen

There was a small tomato salad served in small dishes on the side, which was included only because, while I was preparing the rest of the meal, Barry had noticed the largest of a small cache of heirlooms on the windowsill had begun to exude some of its goodness onto the surface.

• one beautifully-catfaced [I should definitely have photographed it] large orange heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures, cut into bite-size sections or wedges, served with olive oil, a bit of lemon juice, salt, pepper, chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, and chopped parsley from S. & S.O. Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Ippolito Vini Grillo 2016, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits, 35 8th Avenue
• the music was Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s 1685 chamber opera, ‘La Descente D’orphée’, in a performance by William Christie and Les Arts Florissants