Author: bhoggard

fried sweetbreads, butter, lemon; tomato; asparagus/ramps

It was another anniversary, this one even more difficult to explain than most, so I’m not going to try.

I will explain what we celebrated it with.

Sweetbreads.

I’ve cooked them before, but always as a braise, incorporating a number of aromatic vegetables and ending up with a real sauce. This time I decided I wanted to go for a minimal treatment, meaning, breaded and sautéed, finished with butter, lemon, and an unusual aromatic micro green.

Looking around for a basic treatment, I basically transcribed the routine that James Peterson shows to Martha Stewart in this video.

They had the taste and texture of veal cutlets good enough to be served to the angels, if angels ate. Fortunately we both do.

I accompanied them with asparagus because, well, ..asparagus, and there were also ramps, for the same reason. Both were delicious, even if we had to deal with the fact that I forgot to snap off the tough bottoms of the asparagus (even peeled, they can be pretty chewy).

The tomatoes were introduced for color, but their acidity was a good complement to the richness of the sweetbreads.

  • one frozen package of veal sweetbreads (.65 lbs), from Consider Bardwell Farm, defrosted slowly and soaked in salted water overnight, the next day, covered with cold water, slowly brought to the simmer and kept inside the pan for maybe about 5 to ten minutes), the sweetbreads then drained and spread out on a sheet panon top of a piece of parchment paper large enough to be drawn over it and another sheet pan, weighted (I used some filled cans), placed on top, the whole contraption allowed to rest in the refrigerator for 6 or 7 hours, after which the meat was placed on the counter and any little pieces of fat and tissue removed, the sweetbreads then sliced into sections about half an inch thick, dipped in local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour, then in a bowl in which one local egg from Millport Dairy Farm had been beaten with salt, and finally coated with some fine homemade crumbs from a variety of local breads, gently sautéed in clarified butter over a medium hot flame, keeping them at a medium sizzle (shaking them as they were first placed into the pan, to keep them from sticking), removed to 2 plates, where they were drizzled with a little melted butter in which some cut garlic mustard (flowers and the smaller, more tender leaves) from Windfall Farms, had been tossed, and a little juice of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • four halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market placed, cut side down, into the pan for a couple minutes after the sweetbreads had been removed, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and arranged on the plates
  • eighteen or so stalks of moderately-thick-stemmed green asparagus spears from Stokes Farm, trimmed, the thicker sections of the stems peeled, mixed with the white sections of 8 or so ramps from Berried Treasures rolled with a handful of thyme branches from Eataly in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 20 minutes removed to 2 plates and drizzled with more juice from the sweet local lemon
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Paul Hindemith’s 1956-1957 opera, ‘Die Harmonie Der Welt’, performed by  Marek Janowski conducting the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Berlin Radio Chorus [the piece is based on the work of Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), astronomer, astrologist, theologian, philosopher and mathematician]

breaded marinated swordfish; potatoes; mustard spinach

Super.

This was one of the best swordfish entrées I’ve ever had. I can’t account for the reason, taste, texture, and a good appearance came together to present us with a certain kind of perfection. It must have started with the fish’s extraordinary freshness, since I’m aware of the large variable in the number of days between a swordfish catch in deep waters and its arrival in a market stall, even when the fishmonger can be depended on for freshness and the stall is close to the fisherman’s port.

The other obvious variable is the competence – or, often as not, the luck – of the cook. I cook swordfish regularly, and know what I’m doing, but I was really lucky this time.

I had on hand a few tiny potatoes, and I thought this was as good an opportunity as any to make good use of them before they would, so to speak, return to the earth. Even more of a recommendation for adding them to the dinner was the delicate garnish (actually, more than a garnish) of young garlic mustard [alliaria petiolata] which I had picked up the same day as the swordfish.

The green vegetable was something I had never come across before Saturday, but I’ll now be keeping my eye out for it. In addition to its general rareness, Japanese mustard spinach (or Komatsuna)  is apparently unable to withstand summer heat, so it’s available only in the spring and the fall, but it’s well worth the hunt. My Greenmarket purveyor was Gorzynski Ornery Farm, owned, together with his wife and family, by John Gorzynski, a local farmer whose integrity is famous, second to none, for decades a powerful advocate for organic agriculture and small-scale growers.

Mustard spinach is neither mustard, nor spinach, but a member of the enormous Brassica rapa family.

crab cakes with a spicy salsa; arugula; potatoes and leeks

This meal is mostly a lesson in improvisation, born of the need to scour both a freezer and a refrigerator to come up with a meal almost at the last moment. We had expected to be out until very late on Friday night, so I had not purchased anything that could be used for an entrée, or even a fresh green vegetable. Still, when our plans changed at the last minute, meaning now we would be home, I was able to recover the field, thanks to electrical refrigeration.

The potatoes and the leeks were both a little long in the tooth, but they cleaned up nice, and neither had lost any of the goodness they’d originally promised.

pork belly porchetta; Kartoffelklöße; asparagus with thyme

I had expected to reserve a third of the little roast for another day, but, seduced by the appearance on the plate of one slice, I decided it wouldn’t hurt us to have it all last night.

I become slightly obsessed with the idea of preparing pork belly, but when I had finally purchased a piece uptown on Tuesday I still had little idea of how I would cook it. I put it off for several days, deciding that each of the suggestions I found required more preparation and cooking time than I would be able to allow myself.

On Thursday I was ready.

I’d thought I would end up with a German meal, and had purchased a package of frozen German potato dumplings at the same time as the pork, but the formula I went with (mostly) was totally Italian (I kept the Kartoffelklöße, because I knew there might be the makings of a sauce, and they’re designed for a sauce; also, I really, really like Kartoffelklöße.

Altogether, the menu was something of a hybrid.

I had a lot of fun preparing and assembling the rolled roast, and I enjoyed the 2-hour break in the middle of the process. It took only a few minutes to make the sauce, and the vegetables were almost an automatic process, once they had been trimmed.

I had purchased those thick asparagus spears on Monday and kept them in water inside a vase on the counter. They had been a ‘given’ for this meal from the very beginning (or even before) and so of course they stayed to the end.

Everything looked wonderful on the plates, and it was all really really delicious. There was also that aroma going on for hours!

The cost of the pork was surprisingly modest, especially considering its merits, something which gladdens the heart of almost any homecook.

The actual process left me with one question about the meat, but it’s really only a technical one: There were almost no juices in the pan at the end (although I was able to coach what there was into a terrific sauce), so where did all the fat disappear to?

  • one piece (22 ounces) of pork belly from Schaller & Weber, washed, thoroughly dried, scored through the skin layer only along the narrow width at one-inch intervals, in order to ensure crispiness in the end, and ease in carving, placed skin side down, rubbed with sea salt, and some coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, covered and left alone for 15 minutes, 1 teaspoon of fennel seeds, previously heated inside a small cast iron frying pan until they had become wonderfully fragrant, 2 squashed garlic cloves from Berried Treasures, zest from half of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and lots of fresh thyme, sage & rosemary, all from Stokes Farm, leaves removed from stems and roughly chopped, placed on top of the belly, which was then rolled up, tied in 3 places with butcher twine, rubbed with a tablespoon of olive oil, a generous amount of sea salt, and more pepper, placed inside a small, high-sided, oval enameled cast iron pan previously coated with a little olive oil, set inside an oven pre-heated to 450º for 9 or 10 minutes, turned over, the other side cooked for 7 more minutes, after which the temperature was lowered to 300°F , the roast cooked for slightly longer than 2 hours, turning occasionally (I did it every half hour), removed and placed inside a small low-sided pyrex pan on the top of the oven, 3 or 4 tablespoons of a local Linden honey from Tremblay Appiaries, mixed with the juice from half of the lemon mentioned earlier, poured over it, then allowed to rest for at least 20 minutes, sliced into 3 sections (the third, or larger end piece was later halved and distributed onto the plates with the first 2, for reason mentioned earlier) while a sauce was prepared by pouring the cooking juices into a gravy separator (for convenience), the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula, the lean gravy at the bottom of the cup poured back into the pan, which was now set over a flame and a couple tablespoons of a good white wine added, and reduced, then removed from the heat, allowed to cool a bit, and several tablespoons of butter added and swirled in, and the honey-lemon drippings under the roast sitting in the small pan added to complete it, finally placed inside a sauce boat and, once the meat and dumplings had been arranged on the plates, ladled onto both
  • two potato dumplings [Kartoffelklöße], ‘Melle’s Best Kartoffel Knödel’, purchased frozen from Schaller & Weber, defrosted the day before, boiled for about 12 minutes in salted water, drained and arranged on the plates, finished with some of the roasted pork sauce
  • 18 or so mostly short, thick stalks of asparagus from Phillips Farm, trimmed, much  of the length of their stems peeled, rolled along with a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm with a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 25 minutes, or until the thicker sections were just tender
  • the wine was a French (Rhône) white, La Borry Côtes du Rhône Blanc 2006
  • the music was Kalevi Aho, Chamber Symphonies No 1 and 2, Stefan Asbury conducting the Tapiola Sinfonietta, and No. 3, with Jean-Jacques Kantorow conducting the same ensemble

John Dory, thyme; mushrooms; Brussels sprouts, sage

I picked up 2 beautiful John Dory fillets and then bought some mushrooms before checking my Food Blog to see whether I had a formula which would combine both. Once home, I learned that I had never prepared the them together, and didn’t have a recipe in my reference library.  By that time I was in a bit of a hurry, so I looked on line, and that’s where I found the recipe which became the basis of Wednesday’s preparation.

It’s a bit more French, creamy saucy, than I usually like these days, but, even with a few cavils, it turned out to be a pretty good meal.

The problems included some which were almost certainly related to adjusting the taste and seasoning for an amount of fish which was probably only half that which was contemplated in the published recipe, and I also think the mushroom sauce would profit from the addition of some allium, or a pinch of habanada pepper (the original recipe only mentions a pinch of ground nutmeg, which wasn’t enough, and which incidentally may also have given away the antiquity of the its original source).

The nuttiness of the roasted Brussels sprouts was a good foil for the richness of the fish and the sauce.

  • two 8-ounce John Dory fillets from Blue Moon Fish Company, washed, rinsed, dried, rolled in 1 1/2 tablespoons of seasoned local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour, then placed, first skin side down, in a large heavy tin-lined oval copper pan in which a mixture of a little butter and olive oil and half of a tablespoon of whole thyme leaves had been heated until the butter had stopped sizzling and was just beginning to brown, the fillets pan-fried for 2–3 minutes, then turned, and cooked for the same length of time, transferred to 2 plates once they were done, and kept warm, while in a separate pan 2 tablespoon of butter had been heated until melted and foaming, before 5 ounces of oyster mushrooms from the Bulich Mushroom Company stall in the Union Square Greenmarket and one small crushed clove garlic from Berried Treasures were added, stirred over low heat until cooked through, after which 2 tablespoons of white wine were added, brought to a boil and simmered until completely reduced (it takes no time at all), followed by a splash of juice from a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and 6 ounces of heavy cream, the liquid brought to a boil and reduced until it coated a spoon, the sauce seasoned to taste and poured over (or next to) the fish and served, garnished with a little micro red amaranth form Windfall Farms
  • 14 good-sized Brussels sprouts from Brussels sprouts from Phillips Farms, tossed in a bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper, and dried sage from Stokes Farm, spread, not touching each other, onto a medium, well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted in at 400º oven for about 25 minutes
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was that of Joonas Kokkonen, his Symphonies No. 3 and 4, composed in 1967 and 1971, respectively, Ulf Söderblom conducting the Lahti Symphony Orchestra

rye trumpets, ramps, habanada, pepperoncino, parmesan

It was almost a night off, since, although there were 2 courses, this meal was very easy to throw together.

  • most of the bulb sections, including stems, of a bunch of ramps from Berried Treasures, heated with a little olive oil inside a heavy, high-sided, tin-lined copper pan with a bit of crushed dried dark habanada pepper and about the same amount of a crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia until the alliums had softened and begun to give pff an aroma, mixed with half a pound of Sfoglini rye blend ‘trumpets which had been cooked seriously al dente, the roughly chopped ramp leaves now added and everything (including some of the reserved pasta water) tossed and stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, served with shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly

There was a antipasto, served immediately before the trumpets.

  • three ounces of an incredibly delicious salumi, La Quercia Ridgetop Prosciutto, from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very small amount of Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto from Eataly
  • baby arugula from Lani’s Farm, also drizzled with the oil
  • slices of Bien Cuit rye and sunflower bread from Foragers Market

 

skate wing, ramps, lemon, lovage, parsley; rainbow chard

I think this may have been the first time I’ve been able to combine 2 wild favorites of ours, skate wings from local waters and New York (Delaware County) ramps, in a single dish.

Splendid.

Oh, and the polenta flour coating on the skates was also local (Clinton Corners).

I already had the ramps (they can be kept for a surprising number of days if carefully packaged in an unsealed plastic bag in the refrigerator with the bulbs wrapped in a damp paper towel).

While still in the Greenmarket on Monday, I decided rainbow chard would make a good compliment to the skate with the ramps, for its trace of sweetness, and slight bitterness, and for the color it would add to the plate.

The red amaranth with the skate? I took a chance by adding a few sprigs, risking overkill, but it worked out fine.

And that color!

  • four 4-ounce skate wings from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, coated all over with a local coarse polenta (‘Stone-Ground Polenta’ from Wild Hive Farm Community Grain Project) seasoned with salt and pepper, sautéed in olive oil and a bit of butter for 3 minutes or so on each side inside a heavy enameled cast iron oven pan (the only difficult part of this recipe is turning them over without breaking them up), removed to the plates and kept warm while about 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter and half a dozen ramps (leaves removed), sliced a bit, from Berried Treasures, were introduced into the pan and stirred over a now-lowered flame, only to allow the alliums to sweat a bit before the heat was turned off altogether and another 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter added to the pan along with the juice from half of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, some chopped lovage from Windfall Farms and a bit of chopped parsley from Lani’s Farm, and half a dozen of the ramp leaves which had been set aside, roughly chopped, everything stirred for a bit to blend together and make a proper sauce to be divided among the four wings, which were garnished with a scattering of ‘micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms
  • a bunch of rainbow chard from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved garlic cloves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had been heated, along with a small amount of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, finished with a squeeze of juice from the same local lemon used on the skate
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Franz Schmidt, Symphonies No. 1 and 2,  Neeme Järvi conducting, respectively, the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra

Kassler with sauerkraut; boiled potatoes with breadcrumbs

I just now realized what’s really missing in this picture, if not so much in the meal itself. Chopped Parsley (see an earlier version of the dinner). I sometimes forget that parsley (Petersilie) is very much a part of German cuisine, and it would be completely appropriate to find a bit of that herb on the top of this chop. I’ll pretend it’s there, and note here that the herb that can be seen above is a large bay leaf lying at the top right, already having done its thing inside the Bavarian Sauerkraut.

We accompanied the meal with the third act of ‘Die Walküre‘. It seemed seemly.

  • one 16-ounce glass jar of sauerkraut (simply cabbage and salt) from Millport Dairy Farm, drained and very well-rinsed in several changes of cold water, drained again and placed inside a large, heavy, tin-lined copper sauté pan with one chopped red onion from Phillips Farm (I was out of yellow, which would have been the more conventional ingredient), one Honey Crisp apple from Locust Grove Orchards, 8 or 9 whole juniper berries and about the same number of Tellicherry peppercorns, a little salt, 1 large Sicilian bay leaf from Buon Italia, enough water to almost cover the sauerkraut, with more added later on as needed, all brought to a boil, simmered over a low flame, stirring occasionally, for less than half an hour, covered, and then uncovered for 20 or 30 minutes, after which two 9-ounce smoked pork chops from Schaller & Weber, first dried and briefly seared on both sides inside a dry cast iron pan, were buried in the sauerkraut and heated for about 20 minutes, the chops and sauerkraut arranged on 2 plates

I didn’t bring it onto the table this time, but a good German-style mustard should probably have been served on the side.

  • three Carola potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in heavily-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, a couple tablespoons of rich Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter [with 12 grams of fat per 14 grams, or each tablespoon of butter; American butter almost always has only 11grams, which makes a surprising difference in taste and texture], after which the potatoes were arranged on the plates next to the chops and the sauerkraut, sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs which had first been browned in a little butter
  • the wine was an Austrian (Kremstal) white, Steinig Grüner Veltliner Austria 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
  • the music was the third act of the ‘second day’ of Richard Wagner’s 1856 ‘Bühnenfestspiel‘, otherwise known as ‘Die Walküre‘, Sir Georg Solti conducting the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra with some magnificent soloistsHelga Dernesch, Hans Hotter, Birgit Nilsson, Brigitte Fassbaender, Berit Lindholm, Claudia Hellman, Helen Watts, Vera Little, Vera Schlosser, Christa Ludwig, Marilyn Tyler, Régine Crespin, Gottlob Frick, and James King, in a 1965 recording, part of a Ring series that remains a ‘benchmark‘ today, one of the most perfect performances – and recordings – of any opera, ever (fortunately it’s Wagner, and it’s one of his best) [we had listened to the first two acts the day before]

bacon and eggs from an Amish family’s farm

Today’s Sunday breakfast was somewhat more basic than usual (no alliums, not a single tomato, and only one herb and one micro green).

Both the incredibly delicious eggs and the bacon came from an Amish family’s farm in Lancaster County. We will be enjoying their smoked pork chops and sauerkraut tonight.

duck breast, rosemary; tomatoes; asparagus with thyme

It was all good.

  • one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar (in our sugar bowl, infused over a very long time with a whole vanilla bean), left standing for 30 or 45 minutes before it was pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat in a tiny bit of olive oil for a total of 8 or 9 minutes, turning once, the fatty side down first, draining the oil part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of juice from a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and drops of olive oil, garnished with some micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms [NOTE: the tenderloin was removed from the breast before it was marinated, but seasoned as the rest of the breast, and fried very briefly near the end of the time the bulk of the meat was cooking, dividing it into two parts and arranging it on the plates aside the main section of the breast]
  • four Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods halved, placed inside the pan as the asparagus completed cooking, turned once, removed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and arranged on the plates near the duck breast sections
  • 14 or so thick stalks of asparagus from Stokes Farm, trimmed, the stems peeled, tossed in a couple of tablespoons of butter, about a tablespoon of olive oil, and a few branches of thyme, inside a large enameled rectangular cast-iron pan, then sautéed over medium high heat, frequently rolling or turning them in the mix of butter, oil, and herb until crisp-tender and beginning to brown (about 15 minutes), finished with a sprinkling of Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry peppercorns
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) red, Karen Birmingham Zinfandel Lodi 2014, from Naked wines
  • the music was the album, ‘W. F. Bach: Concerti & Trios‘, works by Bach’s eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann (“neither a copycat nor a patsy to fashion” – from the liner notes)