Author: bhoggard

‘Spanish’ shrimp, tomatoes; spicy Tautog, potatoes, ramps

When I arrived at the fish stand in the Greenmarket on Saturday there was only one remaining fillet of Blackfish (Eastern Long Island- and Rhode Island-speak: ‘Tautog’). It’s one of my favorite fishes, but this piece was a little smaller than I would normally prefer for the two of us.

Still, noticing that I had recently cooked all of the other local seafood selections available, I decided to ask for it anyway. I thought of serving an appetizer using a few local Hudson Valley shrimp from Jean Claude Frajmund’s Eco Shrimp Garden market stall, just steps away, if his stock had not yet been exhausted.

Two fish courses would complicate the dinner preparations, but I had been feeling pretty confident about my modest skills lately.

I got the shrimp.

It all turned out even better than I might have expected. The only problem was the lateness of the hour when it was finally served (I still have to work on that).

  • one teaspoon of chopped garlic from Lucky Dog Organic Farm Farm heated inside a medium cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, then part of one dried dark no-heat Habanada pepper added and pushed around with the garlic, followed by a pinch of Spanish saffron (DO La Mancha from Antonio Sotos), one small whole dried local chipotle pepper from Northshire Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket (not punctured, and left whole) and less than half of  teaspoon of freshly-ground cumin seed added, all stirred for a minute or two, after which 6 large, very fresh local whole farmed shrimp from our local Hudson River Valley (Newburgh) supplier of small crustaceans, Eco Shrimp Garden, were added (I had cut them all along their backs, from head to tail, ahead of time, to ease their shelling once they were served), seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit and the shrimp cooked until firm while turned twice, served on 2 plates with a generous squeeze of local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, finished micro fennel from Windfall Farms [both the dried Habanada and the micro fennel are my own additions to Mark Bittman’s simple, delicious recipe]
  • four Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, warmed in a little olive oil along with stems of wild garlic from Lani’s Farm, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, mixed with a generous amount of chopped thyme from Eataly

I was able to prepare all the ingredients for the main course before beginning to cook the first, so there was relatively short intermission between the them.

  • one beautiful, very fresh 11-ounce fillet of Blackfish/Tautog from Seatuck Fish Company, halved, then prepared mostly as described in this recipe by Melissa Clark, but necessarily substituting a mix of Nigerian cayenne pepper and Spanish paprika (picante) for the Aleppo Syrian red pepper it specified, and spooning a small amount of a savory tomato mix from a previous meal at the very end; the fresh sage was from S. & S.O. Produce Farm; the olives were from Whole Foods Market; and the lemon juice from a sweet local fruit from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • a mix of 3 varieties of potatoes, because I wanted to keep enough of each of them for another time, all from Greenmarket farmers (Carolas from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, small Red Norlands from Berried treasure, and ‘blue potatoes’ from Norwich Meadows Farm) boiled in a vintage medium-size clear pyrex pan, drained, dried in the same pan, cut into smaller pieces, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, then rolled, still in the pan, with a bit of olive oil and both the bulbs and greens of a few ramps from Violet Hill Farm

 

There was actually a dessert this time.

  • scoops of a hand-packed vanilla gelato, from Eataly, made in-house, sprinkled with chopped candied ginger from Whole Foods Market

 

bacon and eggs, with vegetables, herbs, spices, breads

It’s good to be Sunday.

And its good to be well-stocked.

  • a very late breakfast (even late as a lunch), of gently-cooked (chewy, not crispy anywhere) thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm; fried very fresh free-range chicken eggs, also from Millport, enhanced with Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, a bit of a mix of Nigerian cayenne pepper and Spanish paprika that remained from dinner the night before, sautéed chopped ramp stems from Violet Hill Farm, and chopped dill from Phillips Farm; pea shoots from Lani’s Farm, sprinkled with salt and pepper, served alongside 3 sliced Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market which had first been warmed in a little olive oil, seasoned, and mixed with a generous amount of chopped thyme from Eataly; slices of ‘8 grain 3 seed’ bread from Rock Hill Bakehouse in Gansevoort, NY (their Saturday stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, not toasted, and toast from slices of 2 other breads, ‘pane Mediterraneo’ from Eataly (whole wheat, rye flour; pumpkin, sesame, poppy, sunflower, flax seeds; millet, farro), and a Balthazar rye boule from Schaller & Weber; and finally, a very small amount of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter from Whole Foods
  • the music was Luigi Rossi’s 17th-century oratorio’, ‘Oratorio per la settimana santa‘,  William Christie directing  Les Arts Florissants (it’s the first Sunday of Easter, so we weren’t too far out of sync)

the ‘magic meal’, 25 years on: Conchiglie al Forno

Conchiglie al forno, with mushrooms, 4 cheeses, cream, radicchio, and fresh sage.

I prepared this meal for the very first time exactly 25 years to the day before I served it this past Wednesday, and there have been many occasions between.

We call it ‘the magic meal’, always have.

The night of April 19, 1992 was the first time I made dinner for Barry. He had very recently been transferred from his employer’s New York office to the one in Seattle, at his request. I was devastated when he told me about it:  We had only begun to get acquainted, through a few chaste dates. He had always had to go back to the office after each of them, which explains one of the reasons he wanted to move out of New York.

He must have noticed I was upset, so he assured me he’d have to visit the New York office occasionally, probably beginning soon after he had settled in on the West Coast. I promised to make him dinner when he did. It was the first time I did; it wasn’t to be the last.

He didn’t return to his hotel that night.

The date (both senses) is now one of our 6 anniversaries. Note: When you don’t believe in marriage, you get to have as many anniversaries as you can get excited about – and remember.

I picked this particular dish because I could prepare it entirely ahead of time (it tastes at least as good reheated on another day), meaning there’s nothing to distract the cook from visiting with a guest (or guests); all it needs otherwise is a simple uncooked appetizer and either some fruit or a gelato, and the arrangements for neither course will keep the company alone.

The recipe for the dish is on this site. I still have the wrinkled clipping from a copy of the September 16, 1990 ‘New York Times Magazine’, where I first saw it.

It also appears in a book, ‘Cucina Simpatica’, given to me 2 years later by a dear friend with whom I used to share many wonderful meals in Providence and New York. The book was published in 1991 by Johanne Killeen and George Germon, who were, as far as I know, also the creators of this Lucullan dish. Jacqueline knew I loved the authors’ wonderful Providence restaurant, as she did, but did not know at the time how they had brought Barry and I together.

Here is the pasta inside the baking dish, just as it came out of the oven:

  • the ingredients in my own preparation included shiitake mushrooms from John D. Madera Farm, Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter from Whole Foods Market, Neapolitan il Pastaio di Gragnano conchiglioni from Eataly, Ronnybrook Farms heavy (‘double’) cream from the local dairy’s stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, radicchio from Eataly, Parmigiano & Reggiano Bonat 5 anni from Buon Italia, Guffanti Fontina Oro Affinata from Eataly (substituting for ‘Bel Paese’ in the recipe), Lombardia 300-day Gorgonzola from Eataly, ricotta from Eataly, and fresh sage leaves from S. & S.O. Produce Farm
  • the wine was an Italian (Sicily, Etna) red, Biondi, Ciro 2014 Etna Rosso Outis Nessuno, from Chambers Street Wines

There had also been an antipasto.

 

ein deutsches Picknick, zu Hause, im Hause

It was ‘Magische MahlzeitVorabend (more on that holiday tomorrow).

For a little while I had been assembling a number of foods, prepared and fresh, that would lend themselves to being part of a picnic, and in particular, mostly a German picnic.

Last night, after a visit to Schaller & Weber in the afternoon, I was ready to assemble one.

As usual, the plates were anchored with a tasty dressed green, in this case various baby mustards from the Union Square Greenmarket, to which I added some grown-up arugula, also from the Greenmarket.

sage-lemon grilled portobello; thyme-roasted asparagus

It may not look like it, but that entrée is vegan. That wasn’t actually my objective.  I had merely turned to a farmer who was offering mushrooms after learning that my Monday fish mongers had sold out their entire catch before I arrived at the Greenmarket. The rest of the story was, luscious..

..not least because a few minutes later I picked out our very first asparagus of the season.

That evening the mushrooms were grilled..

..and the asparagus roasted (here on their way into the oven).

  • four large portobello mushrooms (mature white mushrooms) from John D, Madera Farm (weighing something less than a pound when first brought home), stems removed, the caps wiped free of soil, and their ‘gills’ scraped off, allowed to rest for half an hour in a glazed ceramic pan just large enough to hold them, in a marinade composed of a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, almost as much juice of a sweet local lemon [this time orange in color!] from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and half a dozen sprigs of sage from S. & S.O. Produce Farm, the mushrooms turned once while in the pan, and occasionally brushed with the marinade, then removed, pan grilled for about 4 minutes on each side, arranged on 2 plates, squeezed with more lemon juice, scattered with more sage, this time chopped, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farm
  • eighteen or so asparagus spears from Phillips Farm, trimmed, the stems of the larger stalks peeled, the asparagus rolled, along with a handful of thyme branches in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil and a little sea salt, roasted inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan at 425-450º for about 15 to 20 minutes, removed to 2 plates, some of the juice of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island

Then someone brought out a cheese course, and the meal was no longer vegan.

  • three cheeses from Consider Bardwell Farm, left to right, ‘Manchester’ goat milk cheese, ‘Barden Blue’ cow cheese, and a blue goat milk cheese, all served with a bit of micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms
  • lightly-toasted slices of ‘Pane Mediterraneo’ from Eataly

 

rib eye, grilled ramps; herbed fingerlings; mustard greens

Even though there would be only 2 of us for dinner on Sunday, I had expected to cook something festive, something roast-ish (but necessarily small),  but a glance at the mid-April New York weather forecast (high in the mid-80’s, and humid), sent me back to my sketch pad.

My choices at the market when I was there 2 days before didn’t include anything lamb or goat, or even pork of an appropriate size; any of them would have been my preferences. I then turned to the farm stall I knew as an purveyor of excellent beef (and other meats). there, with Mike’s counsel, I picked out a very fine thick ribeye.

Then, on Sunday evening, everything was proceeding well (I was nearly halfway thorough roasting the fingerlings) when I finally had a good look at the cut that was going to be the centerpiece of our meal.

It was a full 2 inches thick.

I had no experience with a steak of that size.

Barry starts worrying when i begin Googling 30 minutes before we were supposed to sit down to eat, and I totally understand, especially when it’s already a bit late.

I didn’t find much this time, except many reminders that some folks take their beef very, very seriously (it’s something like coffee fanaticism), and that most of those folks seem to have outdoor grills, so I went with my instincts, guided by earlier steak experiences.

It was absolutely delicious, and I think the image at the top helps to describe that.

Barry was very, very happy.

  • it all went together so fast that I’m not certain I’m remembering all the details, but the steak preparation involved bringing to room temperature one 100%-grass-fed 2-inch-thick Black Angus rib-eye steak (22 ounces), purchased from the very sunny Mike at Sun Fed Beef (Maple Avenue Farms) in the Union Square Greenmarket, drying it, rubbing both sides with olive oil, seasoning it well with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, searing each side for about 3 or 4 minutes over high heat inside a vintage seasoned cast iron pan, placing it in a 500º oven for about 6 or 7 minutes, turning once, then removing it when a thermometer had read about 130º (it would continue to cook outside of the oven), letting it rest for about 7 minutes, loosely covered with aluminum foil, removing the bone, dividing it into 2 equal shares, arranging the beef on the plates, where they were drizzled with a juice of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, a bit of olive oil, and draped with half a dozen ramps, an impulse purchase, from Eataly (not yet seen in Union Square this spring, they had to have come from somewhere south of New Jersey) which had earlier been rolled in a little seasoned olive oil and pan-grilled, bulbs first, the leaves following
  • red French fingerlings from Race Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, sage leaves from from S. & S.O. Produce Farm, 2 small bay leaves broken into pieces, from from Westside Market, and a small amount of crushed dark home-dried habanada pepper, arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 375º for 15 0r 20 minutes, sprinkled with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a small bunch of frizzy purple mustard greens from Lani’s Farm, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which 2 cloves of  garlic from John D. Madura Farm, halved, had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with sea salt, Tellicherry pepper, and a very small amount of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, finished on the plates with a drizzle of juice from the same sweet local lemon used on the beef, and a bit of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Amador) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Tempranillo 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, performed magnificently by Tafelmusik

to explain again, I didn’t cook this meal; I just assembled it

Because it was on what some folks call ‘Holy Saturday’ (as a child, a choir boy, and an altar boy, I was one of them), and it was the second day of the ‘Paschal fast’, the meal we enjoyed last night would have been much in line with Catholic tradition.

But that’s not why we had it.

Also, I didn’t actually cook the meal; I just assembled it.

It was an evening that would straddle Friday’s fish and a Sunday steak. I knew pasta would make sense, and then I realized that I had time to check out what Luca Donofrio had in his fresh pasta shop inside Eataly that day. There I spotted his ravioli filled with ricotta, lemon zest, nutmeg, marjoram, and mascarpone, and it both looked and sounded terrific; also, it obviously wouldn’t demand a complex sauce.

Once I had brought some home I decided that meant butter, a smidgen of green scallion stem, a bit of aromatic heatless pepper, salt, and black pepper. I wasn’t sure how I would finish the dish until almost the moment it had been placed in the bowls, when I decided I could not not use the red amaranth I had, if only because nothing else would look so spectacular on top of the pasta.

  • several tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter heated slowly inside a large high-sided tin-lined heavy copper pan with a very small amount of sliced green parts of scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, a crushed piece of orange-gold habanada pepper, and a bit of sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, then 12 ounces of a fresh ricotta-lemon zest-nutmeg-marjoram-mascarpone-filled ravioli from Eataly, which had just been boiled inside a large pot of well-salted water for 2 minutes and drained, slipped into the copper pan and mixed well with the sauce, everything stirred together over a low flame, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, some micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms arranged on top

Just before the pasta there had been an antipasto, as there was a little bresaola left from the meal we shared with friends on Wednesday.

  • a couple ounces of an Uruguayan bresaola from Eataly, arranged on plates with sprigs of slightly-flowering arugula from Bodhitree Farm, both meat and green drizzled with a good Puglian olive oil (Alce Nero biologico DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto) from Eataly and some of the juice of a large local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, the greens seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
  • slices of an Eric Kayser ‘baguette monge’

late breakfast, Easter Sunday: totally worth missing lunch

We usually sleep very late on Sunday, and since we almost invariably have some form of egg dish which is not quickly assembled, it’s often well into the afternoon by the time we sit down.

Today it was especially late (both the rising and the preparing, and thus the eating as well), once again ensuring that there would be only 2 meals for us on the day of rest. As I finished this particularly tasty breakfast just before 3, I couldn’t help telling the one assembled guest: “totally worth missing lunch”. Fortunately Barry had grabbed a digestive biscuit and a strong iced coffee even before I began cooking.

There was a centerpiece, because of the holiday (one which had meant a great deal to me growing up, and now only means spring), a 19th-century blown glass life-size egg, nestled inside an ancient (ca. 1800) miniature splint basket, both found in Rhode Island almost half a century ago.

  • the ingredients for this particular breakfast included 6 free-range eggs and 4 thick slices of bacon from Millport Dairy Farm, the eggs dusted with a little dried orange-gold habanada pepper, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, served on the 2 plates with a sprinkling of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge; there were also 4 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, heated in a little olive oil with a bit of sliced scallion stems from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, and freshly-ground pepper, sprinkled with a few chopped leaves of a basil plant from Whole Foods; and slices of a sturdy ‘Pane Mediterraneo’ from Eataly (whole wheat, rye flour; pumpkin, sesame, poppy, sunflower, flax seeds; millet and farro), which were barely heated in the old toaster
  • the Sunday (‘Easter Sunday’ this time) music was Carl Heinrich Graun’s early 18th-century (exact date unknown) ‘Easter Oratorio’, Michael Alexander Willens conducting the Kölner Akademie

 

 

sautéed whiting, scallions, herbs, lemon; potatoes, greens

It’s an excellent fish. Unaccountably, it’s less expensive than many of its culinary cousins (hake, cod, halibut, sea bass, tilefish, pollock, ocean perch, or porgy, among others) but demand and celebrity dictate these things in the food world, and the restaurant world, pretty much the same as they do everywhere else.

It’s also a good-looking fish, even when the original parts aren’t all there.

  • two 9-ounce whiting fillets (a size larger than what I usually bring home, but that was what was available), from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, placed inside a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan and prepared something like this Melissa Clark recipe, using over 4 tablespoons of a mix of chopped herbs (this time a combination of finely-chopped red sorrel from two Guys from Woodbridge, rosemary from Eataly, peppermint and oregano from Lani’s Farm, parsley from Norwich Meadows farm, and basil leaves off of a living plant from Whole Foods), briefly employing a little aluminum foil for a cover, and using both a small brush and a wooden spoon to repeatedly spread/ladle the scallion-herb butter (Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter) over the fillets, although last night the fish was finished on the plates with a garnish of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge (because it was there in the refrigerator, and I love fennel anything).

I was originally going to serve only a green vegetable accompaniment, but I knew the fish would enjoy being around some boiled potatoes as well.

  • two medium Carola potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, boiled, drained, dried in the pan, cut into smaller pieces, rolled in the clear pyrex pan, tossed with a tablespoon of butter, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and sprinkled with a little zest from a local sweet lemon from David Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • one bunch of collard greens and half that amount of mizuna (remaining from what had not been used in an earlier meal) from Norwich Meadows Farm, torn into small sections (all of the mizuna and most of the collard stems were tender enough to include in the cooking), washed several times and drained, transferred to a smaller bowl very quickly, in order to retain as much of the water clinging to them as possible, wilted inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pot in which 2 halved garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to sweat in a bit of olive oil with a little crushed dried Sardinian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, the greens finished with a little salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music (well, it was ‘Good Friday’) was Mahler’s Symphony No. 6 (1903-1904-1906), Rafael Kubelik conducting the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra [“Es gibt doch nur eine VI. trotz der Pastorale.” – Alban Berg]

grissini; bresaola; scallops, tomato, greens; cheese; gelato

There were 4 of these plates.

We had invited 2 guests; neither had had dinner with us before, and one of them had not even been to the apartment.

I had chosen a menu which would normally allow me plenty of time to be with friends before dinner, but somehow I never got around to preparing all that I could ahead of time. In fact, I hadn’t even begun.

In the past I would have panicked before they arrived, or after, or more likely, both before and after. This time however I was completely relaxed, and because I didn’t want to miss any of the conversation, I even welcomed everyone into the breakfast room area next to the kitchen while I was working on the meal.

I was shocked that none of this fazed me, and that I didn’t miss a step.

Practice works.

I said at the beginning that there were 4 plates, but there were also 4 courses, plus our standing/standup starter of Italian grissini and sparkling wine.

  • seven ounces of a delicious Uruguayan bresaola from Eataly, arranged on 4 plates with sprigs of slightly-flowering arugula from Bodhitree Farm, both drizzled with a good Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.) and some of the juice of a large local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, the greens seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper
  • slices of a ‘baguette céréales’ (golden and brown flax seeds, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, millet seeds) from Eric Kayser [not pictured]
  • the wine was a New York (Long Island) rosé, Wölffer Estate Rosé Long Island 2016, from Chelsea Wine Vault

The main course was more successful than I could have hoped, and it also looked pretty good.

  • over one an a half pounds of sea scallops from Blue Moon Fish Company, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way through, stuffed with a mixture of a couple dozen small leaves from a basil plant purchased from Whole Foods, one medium-size clove of garlic from John D, Madura Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, all chopped together very finely, the mix removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, drained, then pan cooked on a 2-burner cast iron grill pan for about 2 minutes on each side, removed to 4 plates, garnished with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms, and drizzled with more juice from the same large local lemon used in the previous course
  • twelve Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, gently heated inside a heavy tin-lined copper pan with the stems of some wild garlic from Lanis Farm, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • purple frizzy mustard greens from Bodhitree Farm, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which 2 cloves of  garlic from John D. Madura Farm, halved, had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a very small amount of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, the greens finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, L’Umami Pinot Gris Willamette Valley 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault

  • small samples of 5 different cheeses, all from Consider Bardwell Farm [l to R: ‘Manchester’ goat cheese; ‘Slybro’ goat cheese; ‘Goat Blue’ cheese; ‘Rupert’ cow cheese; and ‘Barden Blue’ cow cheese]
  • halves of 2 Honey Crisp apples from Locust Grove Orchards
  • toasted slices from the same Eric Kayser ‘baguette céréales’ which had accompanied the bresaola
  • the wine was more of the Oregon Willamette Valley Pinot Gris

  • scoops of a hand-packed vanilla gelato, made in-house, from Eataly, sprinkled with chopped candied ginger from Whole Foods Market