We love mackerel, and I’ve cooked it often. These were definitely the biggest fillets I’ve ever grilled; I was grateful that we weren’t eating off of the 8-inch creamware plates I had used in the Providence house for years.

These large fillets were perfectly fresh, made a great presentation, especially since I got them to the plates without their coming apart (even the skin remained fully attached), and I managed to cook them to a perfect doneness.

It’s been a long time since I’d included the potato part of the basic recipe I’ve been using for years.  It was only after I had decided to do so that I realized I didn’t have any variety that would seem suitable for ‘twice-cooking’. I went with what I had, a dark blue sort-of-fingerling type.  They worked perfectly, tasted great, and looked pretty dramatic.

• two 8-ounce Spanish mackerel fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, washed, dried, brushed with olive oil, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled on both sides on top of a cast iron 2-burner plate over high heat for 7 minutes, skin side down first, removed and completed with a salsa consisting of 7 quartered Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods tossed with olive oil, wild brined capers which had been rinsed and drained, juice from a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, salt, and pepper, and sprinkled with a mix of chopped lime basil and oregano from Lani’s Farm
• ten ounces of small-ish ‘blue potatoes’ (which are dark blue inside too, and stay so after cooking) from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, scrubbed, boiled – unpeeled – until tender (about 15-20 minutes), drained, allowed to cool slightly before being cut into thirds, cooked, stirring occasionally, with a tablespoon of olive oil inside an already warmed tin-lined copper skillet, the flame immediately turned to high heat, until lightly browned in spots (that is, if you can tell), I’d say for about 5 minutes, the heat turned way down and one large clove of garlic from John D. Madura Farm added and cooked until crisp, or for about 3 more minutes, seasoned with Maldon sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rose Lodi 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was a portion of the multi-CD album, ‘Music of Morocco: Recorded by Paul Bowles, 1959‘; by way of explanation, immediately before dinner we had watched ‘Morocco’ the 1930 Josef von Sternberg classic, starring Gary Cooper, Marlene Dietrich, and Adolphe Menjou (and it was even far better than I had expected!)

This is one of the easiest meals I get to put together, and I do something like it pretty often. It’s easy because the recipes are simple, because I’ve assembled each of them a number of times, and, it’s even easier this time because one of the 3 things on the plate had been prepared earlier – 5 days earlier in fact, as a part of another meal.

The finish for the pork chops this time might be the most spectacular garnish I’ve ever used, at least on this dish, red amaranth, here, while still at the Greenmarket, looking a bit like a map of the Iberian peninsula.

The green was a very sweet (late winter/early spring?) bunch of very sweet, tender collards.

This is a grainy blowup from the earlier appearance of the inguazato, which at that time included monkfish tails.

• two small pork chops (8 ounces each) from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned well with salt and freshly-ground pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a heavy enameled cast-iron pan (a small amount of a dried orange-golden habanada pepper added as each side was sealed), then half of an organic lemon squeezed over the top and left in the pan between the chops, the pan placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, at which time the lemon was squeezed over them once again and replaced between them), removed from the oven and arranged on plates, the really luscious scant pan juices spooned over the meat, which was finished with a flourish of red micro amaranth from Windfall Farms
• a serving of a couscous dish, chef David Pasternack’s ‘inguazata’, a precious leftover from this meal [the recipe can be found through a link of that page], enjoyed earlier in the week
• collard greens from Lani’s Farm, torn into small sections (the 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, a little crushed dried Sardinian pepperoncino from Buon Italia along with them, the greens finished with a little salt, freshly-ground pepper, a bit of sweet local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Marin Marais’ 1789 opera, ‘Sémélé’, Hervé Niquet conducting Le Concert Spirituel

Great, great stuff. As delicious as it looks.

The cod was very fresh, and very sweet, as were the potatoes and the gorgeous micro amaranth.

I didn’t have enough of any one kind of potato to produce a dish I’ve made many times before, and each of the 2 varieties I ended up using was considerably smaller than any I’d ever used. Also, I inadvertently used more olive oil to bake the potatoes than I should have.

So they weren’t big, and they didn’t turn out crispy, but they were really luscious.

I don’t have an image of the tiny fingerlings, but here are the small Carola, still at the farmer’s stand, in a light rain.

Also, because I think potatoes always look so good, here are both kinds, tossed, with seasonings, inside the largest of a nest of vintage Pyrex bowls,

and inside a glazed Terracotta dish, on their way into the oven.

• one 17-ounce fillet of cod from Blue Moon Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, prepared more or less from a recipe from Mark Bittman which I originally came across 12 years ago: the cod washed and rinsed, placed on an ironstone platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, more added on top, until it was completely covered, set aside while preparing a bed of potatoes for them by slicing to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch, about 11 ounces of 2 kinds of potatoes, scrubbed but unpeeled, some small Carola potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm and a slightly less amount of tiny fingerlings from Phillips Farm, tossing them in a large bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil, salt, pepper, and a large pinch of golden home-dried Habanada pepper [acquired fresh last fall from Norwich Meadows Farm], arranging the potatoes, slightly overlapping, in a rectangular glazed ceramic oven dish, cooking them for 20 or 25 minutes in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced, meanwhile, before the potatoes had fully cooked, the cod was thoroughly immersed in many changes of water for about 15 minutes in order to bring down the saltiness (incidentally the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while handling it at this point), divided in half, drained and dried before being placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, skin side down, drizzled with a little olive oil, some freshly-ground pepper scattered over the top, returned to the oven for 8 to 12 minutes more (the time would depend on the thickness of the cod), removed from the dish with a broad spatula, along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought along with each piece, everything arranged on two plates as intact as possible, followed by the remainder of the potatoes, splashy red micro amaranth from Windfall Farms scattered over the top

The mustard greens were phenomenal, and gorgeous resting on the farmer’s stand.

• frizzy purple 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, finished on the plates with a drizzle of juice from a sweet local lemon (Fantastic Gardens of Long Island), and a bit of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1726 opera, ‘Il Farnace’, in an extraordinarily beautiful performance led by Jordi Savall; it was at least our second hearing, not counting this one, from over 12 years ago, in which Vivaldi’s music accompanies Muntean/Rosenblum’s ‘It Is Never Facts That Tell’, the collaborative’s digital projection of a great world emptied and reduced to an enormous landfill, achingly beautiful, even without the music which accompanies its hooded figures

Whenever I have enough time in the kitchen to come up with a new treatment of a familiar ingredient, I go for it, but it doesn’t happen often enough. I repeat myself more often than I want to, even if there are always at least slight variations in the repetitions. I’d like to be more innovative, especially as I become more confident, but if a plan is in order, even if the product is supposed to seem like it just sort of ‘happened’, more time is needed than I usually allow myself.

I’ve always found it’s easiest to be innovative with pasta, for reasons related to its role as a ‘vehicle’ for incorporating any number of other ingredients. It’s made even more simple by having access to excellent local products (using local grains and vegetables) like those produced by Sfoglini.

The ‘other ingredient’ this time, aside from the grain of the pasta itself, was an Asian cucumber that I had picked up at the Greenmarket on Friday, but it was only the jumping off point for creating a dish I had never seen or eaten before.

The antipasto was a proper foil to the primi: I happened to have on hand a small stash of smoked wild salmon, some delicious sweet baby arugula, and a sweet Balthazar small whole wheat boule from Whole Foods

• three ounces of Brooklyn’s Acme Smoked Fish Corporation ‘Ruby Bay’ smoked wild-caught King salmon, from Whole Foods, arranged on 2 plates with a bit of a simple sauce of crème fraîche from Ronnybrook Farm Dairy, chopped wild garlic stems from Lani’s Farm, and a little zest and juice of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• baby arugula from Windfall Farms, dressed only with a little olive oil from Campania, Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina
• slices of a Balthazar whole wheat boule purchased at Whole Foods Market

We were able to enjoy the pasta only a few minutes after finishing the antipasto because I had already prepped much most of the ingredients, including bringing the pasta water to a boil.

• one chopped spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm and one chopped Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm softened in a little olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pot, before adding one ‘Asian’ cucumber from Shushan Valley Hydro Farms, cut into 2-centimeter pieces and already sautéed, also in olive oil, inside a separate tin-lined copper pan until it had begun to brown and blister, additionally, one tablespoon or so of ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘, and some juice of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, everything stirred together, and 8 ounces of Sfoglini ‘rye blend trumpets’, cooked seriously al dente, tossed in, along with some of the reserved pasta water, and stirred, some zest from the same lemon, plus a tablespoon or more of white balsamic vinegar and some chopped lime basil from Lani’s Farm added, and finally, one or two more tablespoons of butter, winding up with the contents of the pot stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, the pasta served in shallow bowls and sprinkled with red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine throughout the meal was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2015
• the music was a pretty obscure 1717 opera by Antonio Vivaldi, ‘L’incoronazione di Dario’, in a performance by Ottavio Dantone and the Accademia Bizantina (a terrific recording, one we had first enjoyed last July)

I had just picked up the scallops when I spotted the mushrooms. They were irresistible, so I decided they would join the shellfish for dinner.

I already had some beautiful purple mizuna at home that I had picked up on Friday from some of my favorite farmers, just returned to the Greenmarket after being away for the winter.

And so the meal came together, the work itself being little more complicated.

• fourteen sea scallops (12 ounces) from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, rinsed, dried thoroughly, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, briefly pan-grilledy (90 seconds on each side), finished with a squeeze of juice from a sweet local lemon grown by Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and a drizzle of olive oil, placed on top of a bed of golden oyster mushrooms (8 ounces from Blue Oyster Cultivation) which had just been prepared, starting with roughly slicing the 2 ‘heads’ and sautéeing them inside a large enameled cast iron pan in a tablespoon of butter for about 4 minutes, one medium chopped finely-chopped shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm and one finely-chopped garlic clove from John D. Madura Farm added and stirred with the mushrooms for 2 minutes, a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper stirred in, almost a quarter cup of a dry (fino) sherry poured in and simmered, stirring, for another minute or two, the pan removed entirely from the heat and a tablespoon of butter, divided into small pieces, added and stirred until it had melted into its contents, the scallops sprinkled with a little very colorful ‘Bull’s Blood Beet’ from Windfall Farms after they had been arranged on the mushrooms
• purple mizuna from Bodhitree Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which one bruised and halved garlic clove from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, a very small amount of crushed dried crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, arranged on the plates and a little more olive oil drizzled on top
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Jerome Choblet Fief Du Chant Baron Vieilles Vignes Muscadet Cotes De Grandlieu Sur Lie 2015, from Chelsea wine vault
• the music was the magnificent 1846 piece which Hector Berlioz’ called a “légende dramatique”, ‘La Damnation De Faust’, Myung-Whun Chung directing the Philharmonia Orchestra, the Philharmonia Chorus, and the Eton College Boys’ Choir, with soloists Keith Lewis, Anne Sofie von Otter, Bryn Terfel, Victor von Halem, and David Nicklass

More than bacon and eggs.

• There were eggs and bacon from Millport Dairy Farm, the eggs dusted with a little dried dark habanada pepper, chopped thin stems of wild garlic from Lani’s Farm, Maldon salt, Tellicherry pepper, and a bit of red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge; there were 3 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, heated in a little olive oil, mixed with a little thyme from Eataly, salt, and pepper, garnished with chives from Phillips Farm; and there was toast, Balthazar’s small whole wheat boule, from Whole Foods
• the music was 3 Bach cantatas, ‘Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan’, ‘Ach Gott! wenn wirst du mich einmal’, and ‘Hort, ihr Augen, auf zu weinen!’, Sigiswald Kuijken conducting La Petite Bande

I don’t seem to have cooked pork ribs since I began this blog. I now realize that was a mistake.

The little package of ‘baby back ribs‘ lay on top of the farmer’s iced box of various pork cuts at the Union Square Greenmarket. I had already picked out 2 small pork chops, but the neat tidiness of the square package, and the realization that it had been something like, ..forever, since I’d cooked pork ribs, was enough to persuade me to go for them as well.

My only concern was their modest weight (a hair over one pound), but I knew that I could add at least 2 very good vegetables to fill out our plates.

I chose some red sweet potatoes,

and some beautiful kale.

Another question became critical only once I started to plan the meal. How was I going to cook the ribs? I had no experience of my own, and I had never paid enough attention to what my Mother did to make them one of our favorite meals in the middle of the last century.

The suggestions I saw on line seemed too southwest barbecue-y (not really my thing and not really an indoor stove thing).  At first I thought there wasn’t anything useful in my paper files, but then Mark Bittman came to the rescue: I uncovered a 3-year-old New York Times clipping, ‘3 Ways to Do Ribs‘, where one of the recipes fit my parameters and looked very promising, for several reasons.

It was an excellent recipe; it was delicious, required few ingredients and relatively little attention, and it also allows for a number of variations.

• one 1-pound package of baby rack pork ribs (in 2 sections) from Flying Pigs Farm, browned for 5-10 minutes of so in a little olive oil inside a large, tin-lined copper pan over medium-high heat, meatiest side down, sprinkled with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, left more or less undisturbed, then turned and the other side browned, after which one large clove of garlic from John D Madura Farm, crushed, one large salted anchovy from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, and one crushed section of a dried orange-golden habanada pepper (my signature innovation for this recipe) were added and and stirred in for a minute, followed by one third of a cup of white wine (a California [Clarksburg] white, Karen Birmingham 2015 Pinot Grigio), any browned bits from the bottom of the pan scraped up, the wine brought to a simmer, the ribs covered and cooked until tender, for about an hour, basically unattended (in fact, I let the pan sit, covered, for another 15 minutes while the sweet potatoes finished in the oven, so, once again, let me say that this is a low-stress recipe), the ribs arranged on the 2 plates, some of the truly delicious juices poured on top, garnished with some chopped parsley from Whole Foods Market
• less than a pound of Japanese sweet potatoes from Race Farm, unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, cut into one-half-inch pieces, tossed in a bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper, and 3 garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm, arranged on a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, placing the garlic on the top of potato slices (a better idea would be to toss unpeeled garlic cloves into the bowl with the potatoes and seasonings), roasted for about 30 minutes, garnished with red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge
• Siberian kale from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, drained, briefly sautéed in olive oil in which 2 bruised and halved garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper, a very small amount of crushed dried crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, arranged on the plates and a little more olive oil drizzled on top

There was a small, very refreshing citrus dessert.

• two large (we used fruit knives and forks) hybrid Kumquats (I forgot to get the name) from Dean & DeLuca

• the wine during the main course was a California (Carneros) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2015
• the music was, from late in the afternoon until earlier in the evening, while the dinner was being prepared and cooking, Wagner’s ‘Parsifal’, Jaap van Zweden, directing the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, the Netherlands Radio Choir and the State Male Choir Latvija; and, during the meal itself, the same conductor and orchestra performing Bruckner’s Symphony No. 9

I’ve made this Sicilian monkfish and couscous dish twice before and it just seems to get better each time. Last night I even managed to obtain socarrat!

It’s also pretty foolproof. I’ve served it with a vegetable each time, but the original, David Pasternak recipe suggests making it a one-dish meal, which would make it even simpler to put together.

I went with a vegetable again last night.

After I had picked up the fish at the Greenmarket earlier in the day, I also found the last bunch of mustard greens.

This is the couscous mix just after monkfish was added, and before it was covered.

• two 9-ounce monkfish tails from Pura Vida Fisheries, prepared using a David Pasternak recipe which includes M’hamsa Couscous from Tunisia (purchased at Whole Foods), olive oil, sliced garlic John D. Madura Farm, a little more than one and a half 16-ounce cans of really superb Mutti baby Roma tomatoes from Eataly (which are also available at Whole Foods), and cracked Sicilian green olives from Whole Foods, and part of one crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, cooked, because the monkfish tails were smaller than those described in the recipe, for a total of only 10 minutes
• mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which several small halved cloves of garlic form John D. Madura Farm had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily, Palermo) white, Corvo Insolia 2015 from Philippe Wine and Spirits, on West 23rd Street less than one block from our table, a wine we have often, and enjoy just as often
• the music was the piano quintet in C-minor of Louis Ferdinand, Prince of Prussia, his Opus 1, published in 1803, Christoph Hammer, fortepiano, and the Schuppanzigh Quartet, heard streaming on Yle Klassinien

[1799 portrait of a dreamy Louis Ferdinand by Jean-Laurent Mosnier, from Wikipedia]

Simple.

Very good.

• eight ounces of a locally-sourced and locally-produced, seasonal and and artisanal pasta, Sfoglini ‘Jerusalem Artichoke Fusilli’ (incorporating sunchokes grown by Norwich Meadows Farm) which had been cooked al dente during the preparation of a sauce which was nothing more than some chopped spring garlic from Lani’s Farm and a crushed section of a dried orange-golden habanada pepper warmed in a little olive oil inside a high-sided tin-lined copper pan, the cooked pasta tossed into the pan and stirred over a low-medium flame, along with some reserved pasta water, to emulsify it, the mix seasoned with salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, divided into 2 shallow bowls, a small amount of Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly grated on the top, and garnished with a little ‘Bull’s Blood Beet’ [beta vulgaris] from Windfall Farms
• the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Philippe Wines
• the music was Vagn Holmboe (1909-1996), chamber music pieces written from the 1950s to the 1980s

With its gorgeous pink/red skin, I find it difficult to avoid bringing Sea perch home whenever I see it at a fish seller’s stall in Union Square, especially since it has so many other virtues, beginning with excellent flavor and texture, and including ease of preparation, at least as I have come to know it.

The radishes had come from the Greenmarket a full 2 weeks before and still tasted great. They  are roots, and apparently, not knowing when I would remember they were there, I had wrapped them carefully enough to extend their freshness.

The green vegetable which we enjoyed, described by the people who raised and sold it in the Greenmarket on Monday as ‘overwintered broccoli rabe’, is actually, and very surprisingly, a seasonal vegetable, at least in this new age of high tunnels and artisanal farming to supply fussy city people.

• four 4-ounce sea perch fillets from American Seafood Company, brushed with olive oil and some chopped wild garlic from Lani’s Farm, a bit of crushed dried orange-golden habanada pepper, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then broiled 4 inches from the flames for about 4 minutes until the skin was crisp and the fish cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which one large rinsed, filleted salted anchovy from Buon Italia had been gently heated until it had fallen apart, the fish finished on the 2 plates with a drizzle of sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a small number of cut chives from Phillips Farm

here an image of the radishes about to go into the oven

 

• two bunches of breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farm, scrubbed, trimmed, tossed with olive oil, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and branches of thyme from Eckerton Hill Farm, roasted at 375º for about 20 minutes on a medium-size Pampered Chef pan with, garnished on the plates with a little red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge
• ‘overwintered broccoli rabe’ from Lani’s Farm, wilted with olive oil in which two lightly-crushed and halved garlic cloves John D. Madura Farm had been heated until beginning to color, finished with salt, freshly-ground pepper, a small amount of crushed dried chili (peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia), and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Scott Peterson S.P. Drummer Napa Chardonnay 2015
• the music was Erwin Schulhoff’s 1932 opera, ‘Flamen’, John Mauceri conducting the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin and the Berlin RIAS Chamber Chorus