Author: bhoggard

insalata caprese; scallops, tomato butter; tomatoes; greens

Even as I was assembling them in my mind, I knew that both courses would seem to be as much about tomatoes as anything else, especially since tomatoes also found their way [almost] invisibly, onto the scallops as well.

At least I used a different kind of tomato in each of their 3 appearances.

The first course was an insalata Caprese, which, as I’ve written before always takes longer to assemble than I remember it does, but its so easy, and relaxing, perhaps a little like meditating, although I have almost no experience in that area.

These tomatoes were stars.

  • three ripe heirloom tomatoes from Alewife Farm, sliced arranged on 2 plates, alternating with slices of some very fresh local water buffalo mozzarella from Riverine Ranch in the Union Square Greenmarket and leaves of fresh local (Brooklyn!) basil, ‘Gotham Greens Rooftop’, from Whole Foods, the spread sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground black pepper, drizzled with a great Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.)
  • slices of ‘bambino sesamo’ from Grandaisy Bakery

The main course included a few quite small tomatoes, mostly as a token, to please the camera, which loves color, but, honestly, also to indulge our taste for tomatoes; they were so extraordinarily delicious, that I wished I had added a few more. The third appearance of these nightshades (I love that name) was in the ‘tomato water’ with which I finished the scallops in lieu of the usual lemon juice.

  • ten medium-large Hamptons Bay sea scallops (16 ounces altogether) from American Seafood Company, washed, drained and very thoroughly dried on paper towels (twice), generously seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with some tomato water that remained from an earlier meal, and some of the Lamparelli Campania olive oil, arranged on 2 plates and sprinkled with fresh dill flowers from Alewife Farm
  • eight small red and yellow tomatoes from Alewife Farm heated in a little olive oil inside a small vintage pyrex pan, a bit of sliced spring shallot stem added near the beginning, seasoned with salt and pepper
  • the fresh greens from 2 bunches of ‘French Breakfast’ radishes from Willow Wisp Farm, wilted in olive oil in which 3 fresh halved garlic cloves had been allowed to sweat in a little olive oil for a bit, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper and a bit more olive oil

 

marinated baby squid, baby corn, savory; baby cukes, dill

They really were all ‘baby’ things, as I tweeted last night, baby squid, baby corn, and baby cucumbers (even if only the corn had been labelled as such), and all of them came from the Union Square Greenmarket. It certainly wasn’t something I had been after; it just happened, but fortunately, as I added then, it was all good, very good.

The corn was the only real surprise, since, before I shucked the little ones, the cobs had looked like they would be somewhat larger. Had I known the size while still at the stand, I would probably have bought more, but the plate proportions did end up just about right.

  • a full pound of cleaned baby squid, bodies and tentacles, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, marinated for about 45 minutes (the first 25 or so in the refrigerator) inside a bowl containing a mixture of the zest and juice of most of one Whole Foods Market lemon, one clove of fresh minced fresh garlic head from Alex’s Tomato Farm, almost 2 tablespoons of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, a third of a teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the marinade, drained, pan-grilled briefly (virtually a matter of seconds, for the smaller pieces) on top of a seasoned cast iron double grill pan that had been allowed to get very hot on top of 2 burners and high flames, arranged on 2 plates, sprinkled with a bit of juice from the same lemon used in the marinade, scattered with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm, finished with a drizzle of olive oil

  • ten ears of baby bicolor corn from Alewife Farm, shucked, sautéed inside a heavy medium antique copper pot, in which a little butter and a little less olive oil had been heated until fairly hot, sprinkled with Maldon salt, black pepper, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, finished with fresh summer savory from Alewife Farm

goat chops, tomato water, marjoram; ‘artichoke caponata’*

These were quite possibly the most delicious goat chops either of us had ever had. This makes me very happy, because, for what it may be worth, I don’t think either or I have ever been served goat chops outside of our own home.  I’m going to share my happiness with Lynn Fleming, the local goat breeder from whom I had purchased the meat, commending her for the quality of her production.

The extraordinarily pungent marjoram flowers were stars too,..

..even if they couldn’t rival the splashy color of the micro radish.

  • four loin goat chops, each averaging just over 4 ounces, from Lynnhaven Dairy Goat Farm, marinated for about 45 minutes in a mix of a couple tablespoons of olive oil, 2 small sliced cloves of fresh garlic from from Alex’s Tomato Farm, freshly-ground black pepper, 8 slightly-crushed juniper berries, some roughly-chopped rosemary from Phillips Farms, one medium crushed bay leaf from Westside Market, and a little zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, then pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning 3 times, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper after the first time, finished with a bit of a fortunate nicety, some tomato water that remained from an earlier meal, plus some very aromatic marjoram flowers from Stokes Farm, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • a knob of purple micro radish from Windfall Farms, as a plate garnish

 

* although not really a caponata at all, it turned out to be an excellent accompaniment for the goat

labneh, garlic, lemon, egg, fenugreek, l’ekama, micro radish

This was not our fathers’ Sunday breakfast.

It started with the water buffalo labneh (a creamy, tangy Middle Eastern yogurt strained to remove most of its whey) that I had in the refrigerator. While I knew there would be eggs involved, I also knew that there were all kinds of possibilities for improvisation. I actually had most of the ingredients that might come to mind in that purpose, and some are mentioned on this site, but I decided to keep it simple, at least my first time out with this concept.

It was really delicious, and we’ll occasionally be revisiting this refreshing breakfast form, with all kinds of variations.

fennel-grilled tuna; sautéed cucumber, dill; cherry tomatoes

It was very much a summer dinner, and the weather cooperated.

Those aren’t zucchini, but ordinary cucumbers. I love cucumbers, in almost every form, including sautéed.

This time I restrained myself when it came to deciding on garnishes (in the picture above there’s not a single micro green in sight), but I got a bit confused in my rush at the very end, when I had to direct to the right target the single finishing herb I decided to use: I had intended to sprinkle the tomatoes with dill, one of my favorites, but instead tossed the seed onto the cucumbers; that of course is a more familiar, and probably more successful pairing, so maybe my unconscious knew what it was doing, even if I was trying to be perverse.

Everything on the plate was fresh from the Union Square Greenmarket that same day or the day before, the only exception being the purple romaine lettuce that I had bought exactly 4 weeks earlier [yeah], and which, amazingly, tasted as good and as crunchy last night as it did when I brought it home; I’ve become a good indoor husbandman.

Even the wine was fresh, and from a fresh new local winery we had visited the week before, Todd Cavallo and Crystal Cornish’s beautiful small, biodynamic, permaculture-focused Wild Arc Farm, in Pine Bush, New York, below the  Shawangunk Mountains.

  • two 7-ounce tuna steaks from American Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, rubbed tops and bottoms with a mixture of a tablespoon of a wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, that had first been crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the tuna pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side) and finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil
  • three medium cucumbers from Tamarack Hollow Ranch, sliced about 2 centimeters thick, dried, sautéed inside a large seasoned cast iron pan in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until they began to color, and then joined by several chopped spring red onions from Berried Treasures Farm, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch or so of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company, sprinkled with fresh dill flowers from Alewife Farm
  • more than one handful of a mix of ‘wild Mex tomatoes‘ and heirloom Coyote tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm heated in a little olive oil inside a small tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged in the plates on top of some washed leaves of a small head of lightly-dressed spring purple romaine lettuce from from Echo Creek Farm’s stand in the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market

There was a sweet, mostly because earlier in the day I had decided we were taking too long to finish the cherries I had bought 3 weeks earlier. That afternoon I cut up those that were left to use as a topping for a pound cake or a soft frozen dessert. Later I couldn’t couldn’t find the cake, so frozen dessert it was.

buffalo steak, shallot; potato, scallion; radicchio, red onion

Our dinner Thursday night turned out looking fairly wintry, given its many shades of brown, and the fact that each of its 3 parts included a different allium. In fact however most of the meal was determined by my wanting to include several ingredients that I’d been shifting around the kitchen for a while.

The steak however was new, purchased after we had returned from a trip up the Hudson on Monday, although it was from a steer that was 4 years old, meaning that it was wonderfully sturdy, and absolutely delicious.

  • one 12-ounce water buffalo New York strip steak from Riverine Ranch in the Union Square Greenmarket , brought to room temperature, halved crosswise (the cut is unevenly shaped, but somehow I came out with two pieces weighing precisely 6 ounces each) seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared briefly on the top, thick fat-covered side inside an oval enameled heavy cast iron pan, and then the 2 long sides cooked for 3 or 4 minutes each, or until just under medium, and, at about the same time the steak was removed from the pan, the pieces of a thinly sliced section of stem from a flowering spring shallot from Keith’s Farm were tossed into it to be briefly heated and softened before they were scattered on top of the meat, which was then drizzled with juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon and some Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and allowed to rest for a couple more minutes
  • two kinds of potatoes, ‘Peter Wilcox’ cultivars (purple skin, golden flesh) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, and red fingerlings from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, boiled together, unpeeled, in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed there with a bit of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a bit of dried habanada pepper, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • one small head of radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sliced broadly, sautéed until barely wilted inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with a little olive oil in which 3 sliced spring red onions from Berried Treasures Farm had already been heated until they had softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished with a dash of balsamic vinegar, arranged on the plates, and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) red, Quinta da Pellada Dac Red Blend 2014, from Garnet Wines
  • the music was Jordi Savall’s ‘Mare Nostrum’ (because it was time to hear it again, since it had been 2 years since we last played the recording), with music of the Christian, Muslim, and Jewish cultures which were in dialog across the Mediterranean from the middle ages into the early modern era

tautog, tomato water, olives, herbs; grilled scapes; tomato

After a week away, yesterday was my first day back at the Greenmarket and last night my return to actually cooking from the ground up, but parts of this meal is actually composed of ingredients I had assembled sometime before our little long weekend.

The ‘tomato water‘ I used on the fish was processed from the tomatoes I wrote about in a post describing the meal the night before, and the garlic scapes had survived in the crisper for fully 3 weeks, in excellent shape, with nothing but some drying stringy tips to show for their wait.

The tomato water was an interesting diversion that began hours before I actually started cooking.

  • two 8-ounce filets of tautog, or blackfish, from American Seafood Company [prepared following a recipe by Melissa Clark published in the New York Times 4 years ago, substituting a mix of excellent cayenne pepper and a dulce paprika for the Aleppo pepper she had indicated (Syrian trade being tragically interrupted these years), and adding a large pinch of dried habanada pepper to the tomatoes as they dripped through the cloth-lined antique tin colander], seasoned, seared, cooked with halved Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, and drizzled with ‘tomato water’ prepared earlier in the day, for which I used 2 very ripe tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, rosemary from Phillips Farm, and several pieces of habanada pepper that I had dried last fall from some of the brilliant fresh crop grown by Norwich Meadows Farm, the filets finished with a bit of torn Gotham Greens Rooftop local basil from Whole Foods, and peppermint from Stokes Farm

  • garlic scapes from Keith’s Farm, trimmed at either end, tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper, then pan grilled, finished with a dusting of zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon

cheese tortelloni, tomato, spring onion, jalapeno, dill flower

Our first home-cooked meal since last Wednesday!

But it wasn’t really about cooking, only assembling, using the simple ingredients indicated in this recipe suggested on the pasta maker’s own site. I chose it because I happened to already have everything it asked for, even though we had been away 4 days.

Also, with this meal I can confirm that tomatoes actually can be stored in the refrigerator, although only under certain circumstances, and with certain important provisos: A few days before we were to leave on a long weekend trip, one of the farmers I regularly visit in town slipped  4 beautiful New Jersey tomatoes into my canvas market bag without my knowing it. I tried really hard to include them in meals before we left, but without any success, so the night before we left I looked on line to see what I might do to give them a chance of surviving until we came back. I quickly pulled up on the screen, the advice, ‘How to Keep Tomatoes Fresh for Longer”, on the Food52 site. I followed it, and, after waiting a day for the fruit to recover from the refrigerator, as it warned, I found it worked like a charm.

Actually, it turns out that the question of how or where to store tomatoes may be still more complicated, as suggested by this Serious Eats article.

Still, the refrigerator worked for me this time, and in fact on the next day as well, when I cooked with the remaining 2 tomates.

  • one 10-ounce package of Rana ‘Cheese Lovers Ravioli (stuffed with ricotta, mascarpone, parmigiano reggiano, mozzarella, and pecorino romano) with a sauce composed of a little more than one seeded and de-veined jalapeño pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, roughly-sliced, and a sliced section of a red spring onion from Berried Treasures Farm, sautéed for a few minutes in a tablespoon of olive oil inside an large antique copper pot over medium heat, a cup of chopped tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Chelsea 23rd Street sidewalk market that had first been tossed with a bit of turbinado sugar (because I suspected they might need a little sweetening) tossed in, then the cooked pasta added and the contents of the pot stirred for a minute or two over medium heat to reduce the liquid before being arranged in shallow bowls, sprinkled with dill flowers from Todd and Crystal’s kitchen herb garden at their Wild Arc farm in Pine Bush, New York, and drizzled with olive oil
  • the wine was an Italian (Umbria) white, Barberani Orvieto Classico ‘Castagnolo’ 2016, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was Lawrence Dillon’s 2010 album, ‘Insects and Paper Airplanes’

bass, sorrel, shallot blooms; tomatoes ; asparagus, lovage

It looks right, and it tasted very right.

I finally managed to prepare a bass filet, a very fresh bass filet (actually 2) in a way that it would show and be enjoyed in its purest form, elegantly minimal, seasoned with salt alone, and with a crispy skin, but I just couldn’t help slipping a little micro green underneath, and tossing some micro flower on top.

There wasn’t any lemon in sight, but sorrel has something of a lemon-ish thing going for it.

The technique is from a page I found on line, ‘Perfect Seared Fish‘, written by Hank Shaw, who describes himself as a former line cook, but who, it becomes obvious, is much more than that. I was afraid of what seemed some very precise cautions in his instructions, but last night I made it all the way through his prescriptions, and the result fulfilled all my expectations.

Oh, and because Barry knew he’d need many glasses of water during dinner, because of the heat, he let me have the rest of his bottle of Gerolsteiner, which is naturally carbonated. It’s probably my favorite for-profit water, although the fact that it has to be shipped all of the way from my family’s Heimat is problematic, and also makes it only a special occasion indulgence.

  • two 8-ounce striped bass filets from American Seafood Company removed from refrigeration, salted a little, allowed to rest at room temperature for 20 minutes, and while a seasoned steel pan was heating up above a high flame, the skin side scraped with a butter knife to remove excess moisture, both sides patted dry with a paper towel, a tablespoon, or a little more, of Mac Nut  macademia nut oil from Whole Foods Market poured into the pan and swirled to cover the bottom and heat the oil, the filets placed skin side down inside it, immediately jiggled to ensure that the fish doesn’t stick, the flesh side of the filets salted and the heat turned down to medium-high, the filets pressed down lightly with a spatula for 30 to 60 seconds, to ensure that the skin browns evenly, cooked without moving them for 3 or 4 minutes, then, the pan shaken to see that the filets moved easily, the bass turned over with the spatula while stabilizing them with the help of a free hand, and cooked  for another minute, maybe a bit more, and the heat turned off, roughly half of the way through, a tablespoon and a half of rich 12% fat butter added to the pan, swirled so it melted swiftly, and a generous bit of micro sorrel from Windfall Farms tossed into the butter and mixed with it, the pan tilted and the sauce poured onto the plates, the filets placed on top of the sauce, sprinkled with some scissored spring shallot blossoms from Keith’s Farm

  • a few stems of spring flowering shallots from Keith’s Farm, chopped, sautéed lightly inside an antique medium copper pan in a little olive oil,followed by two handfuls of very ripe red and golden grape tomatoes from Alex’s New Jersey Tomato Farm, at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, washed, halved, heated, sprinkled with sea salt and freshy-ground black pepper, tossed with some beautiful summer savory from Alewife Farm, chopped

  • some second-growth asparagus from Berried Treasures Farm, in many lengths and thicknesses, trimmed, the stems of the few larger ones peeled, tossed gradually, the thickest spears first, in a tablespoon of butter and less than a tablespoon of olive oil heated inside a large enameled rectangular cast iron pan, then sautéed over medium high heat while frequently rolling or turning them until they were beginning to brown (about 15 minutes), finished with a sprinkling of Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sprigs of lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge tossed in with the asparagus part of the way through their cooking
  • the wine was an American (Long Island) rosé (from grapes and a winery near the home port of the boat that brought in the bass, Wolffer Estate, Long Island Rose, 2017, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was Counterstream Radio, streaming

crawfish remoulade; sweet beet; tomato, spring red onion

salad days

I went to our neighborhood Lobster Place on Monday because I had learned, from the Union Square Greenmarket app, that our neighborhood fish monger usual to that day would not be there this week. Their booking out gave me an excuse, if one were needed, to pick up a few baby octopuses that had flown into New York all the way from Spain (or, more likely, from the waters of the Spanish Protectorate in Morocco, if not those of Morocco itself). Our huge distance from their place of origin should be a caution, if not actually a prohibition of their purchase, but I will occasionally overcome my scruples and briefly broaden my carbon footprint in order to enjoy the delicacy: we really, really love octopoda, and it’s not like there are any swimming within thousands of miles of New York.

The meal was delicious.

All of this brings me to the subject, or rather one of the subjects, of this delicious dinner, which we enjoyed the following day.

While I was at the Lobster Place on Monday I thought also of picking up a container of some kind of seafood I might use as a part of a special salad supper the next day (bonus: no hot stove). Crab meat had first come to mind, but once I was at the shop I saw that my choices were broader than I’d imagined.

Crawfish! I decided it would be Louisiana crawfish, and I’d probably prepare it in some kind of simple remoulade.

Eventually I assembled 2 other salads as well.

Everything was a little red.

  • seven ounces of cooked and cleaned Louisiana crawfish from The Lobster Place, in the Chelsea Market, served as a remoulade, using this very easy and delicious recipe that I found on line when I was rushed that evening, and fortunately I already had everything I needed, except for the scallions, for which I just substituted chopped small spring leeks from Neversink Organic Farm, arranged on a bed of some well-washed leaves of a small head of spring purple romaine lettuce from from Echo Creek Farm of Salem, NY, in the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market (on the north sidewalk of 23rd Street, between 8th and 9th Avenues), lettuce dressed with a little olive oil, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a squeeze of lemon, the salad garnished with micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge [Note: there was no capsicum to be found anywhere in the meal: the remoulade was delicious, but it could have used at least a little hotness, if only to salute the crawdaddies’ origins; a little chili pepper would not have been out of place in any of the other parts of the meal, particularly since it was a hot summer day, and evening]
  • one awesome sweet ‘Badger Flame’, beet from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, scrubbed, dried, and sliced as thinly as I could, layered inside a low bowl with a little Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and chopped summer savory from Alewife Farm, stirred gently and arranged on the plates where they were garnished with spring shallot blossoms from Keith’s Farm
  • two dozen very ripe, very sweet grape tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, halved, mixed inside a small bowl along with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, 3 chopped spring red onions, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, garnished with chopped fennel fronds from Alewife Farm
  • slices of a wonderful Balthazar sourdough rye, purchased that afternoon from Schaller & Weber
  • the wine was a California (Santa Lucia Highlands/Monterey County) rosé, 99 Barrels Derek Rohlffs Santa Lucia Highlands Rosé, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Michael Haydn’s only opera, ‘Andromeda e Perseo’ (1787), Reinhard Goebel conducting the Saarbrücken Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Cologne Vocal Ensemble