Author: bhoggard

baked cod and potato, habanada, micro scallion; cabbage

ligurian_cod_cabbage

Fish and potatoes, also dried habanada, and micro scallions. There was also the 3 mini cabbage, with some Italian stuff, but I think this entrée was still nothing like anyone’s mother used to make.

  • two 8-ounce cod fillets from American Seafood at the Union Square Greenmarket (mostly using a recipe from Mark Bittman I first came across almost 12 years ago), laid on a bed of coarse sea salt, then completely covered with more salt, and set aside while about a pound of Carola potatoes from Max Hatchery (yellow flesh, creamy), were sliced to a thickness of about 1/4 inch, tossed in a large bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil, some dried heatless, orange Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, and pepper, arranged overlapping in a glazed ceramic baking pan, cooked for 30 minutes or so in a 400º oven (or until they were tender), and near the end of that time the cod was rinsed in several changes of water and dried before being placed in the pan on top of the potatoes, topped with a little olive oil and sprinkled with some freshly-ground pepper, returned to the oven for 12 or 14 minutes (the time would depend on the thickness of the cod), arranged on 2 plates, and finished with a scattering of micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge

3_cabbages

  • three tiny white cabbages (3 or 4 inches in diameter) from Keith’s Farm, cut as a chiffonade, quickly heated in a tin-lined copper pot where a bit of olive oil had already been heated to soften some sliced garlic from Stokes Farm and warm a pinch or two of crushed Italian fennel seed, the cabbage finished on the plates with a sprinkling of lightly-toasted pine nuts from Whole Foods,
  • the wine was a California (Carneros) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was, once again, WKCR streaming, its 9-day ‘Bach Festival 2016,

duck, lemon, thyme; roasted roots, rosemary, micro radish

duck_roots_2

On the third day of Christmas, our true loves sent to us a, er, ..a single duck breast.

  • one duck breast (12 ounces) from Hudson Valley Duck, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a little turbinado sugar (the sugar in our bowl infused over a very long time with a whole vanilla bean), the duck left standing for about 25 minutes this time before it was pan-fried over medium heat, the fatty side down first, in a tiny bit of olive oil, draining the oil part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], the breast removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, that is, no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and drops of a very good Campania olive oil, then scattered with chopped thyme from Stokes Farm [NOTE: the tenderloin would normally have been removed from the breast before it was marinated and fried very briefly near the end of the time the bulk of the meat was cooking, but this time I could locate only a very small section to remove; dividing it into two parts, I tucked them under the finished pieces on the plates]

 

roots_on_the_way

  • four different root vegetables I already had on hand, about one pound altogether, cut into bite-size pieces, some peeled first, tossed in a bowl with two tablespoons of olive oil; salt; freshly-ground pepper; one crushed piece of a mahogany-colored home-dried dark, dried heatless Habanada pepper acquired this summer fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm; and several sprigs of rosemary from Keith’s Farm, their leaves removed from the stems, everything then arranged on a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted in a 425º oven for about 45 minutes, removed and divided onto two plates, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Windfall Farms [the vegetables were sweet potato from Lani’s Farm, purple-topped turnip from Alewife Farm, carrot and ‘Dark Red Norland’ potato from Norwich Meadows Farm]
  • the wine was a California ( Monterey) red, Rick Boyer Monterey Syrah 2015 from Naked Wines
  • the music was WKCR streaming, its 9-day ‘Bach Festival 2016,

smoked bresaola, mizuna; truffle-filled pasta, castelmagno

bresaola_mizuna

Quite local.

 

December 26 is second Christmas, and a legal holiday, in most European countries, but not in the U.S. (Americans don’t believe in official days off). At our house it’s at least an excuse for another good meal, even if we don’t need excuses.

Also, I, at least, have every day off.

It makes sense to Barry and I that we go for something lighter than what we enjoyed for the feast of the day before. This year, having learned Monday afternoon after I had walked over to Union Square that there was no Greenmarket that day, and therefore no local fish, I decided to pick up up one of Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pastas at Eataly on my way back from the empty park. There I found something very special, a handmade white truffle-filled pasta (the filling had been placed on one side of a ravioli square, the pasta then folded over and pinched shut, making some beautiful rectangular purses).

The noble ingredient tuber magnatum meant that it wouldn’t be cheap, but this was der Zweiter Weihnachtsfeiertag, and we were both feeling special that yesterday.

Then I realized that what was in front of me represented a little less than half of a pound, and that was it for the day; not really very much. Luca suggested that it would be the perfect amount for a primi, for two. The problem was that I hadn’t intended to prepare a secondo, especially if it meant cooking meat a second day in a row.

I turned instead to the charcuterie and cheese counter across the large room, where, after an amusing discussion with other customers and the store people, and also a bit of sampling, I bought a wonderful local [Westchester County – Larchmount!] smoked bresaola and also found the very special cheese, Castelmagno D’alpeggio DOP Guffanti, which Luca had suggested I might sprinkle on the pasta if I really wasn’t going to be satisfied with melted butter alone.

That night, while I was ready to assemble a third course, of local cheese and fruit, after we had really enjoyed these two, we decided we were more than satisfied without one.

 

Good stuff.

truffle_pasta_castelmagno

 

The antipasto featured a salumi.

  • three ounces of smoked bresaola from Larchmont Charcuterie, via Eatlay, arranged on two plates with a small amount of mizuna from Lani’s Farm, both drizzled with a good olive oil (Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’) and the juice from 2 tiny green-flesh local lemons from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island,, the greens seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper
  • Bien Cuit sourdough with Halkidiki (green) olive

The primi was extraordinarily simple.

  • seven ounces of white truffle-filled pasta, ‘Plin con Tartufo Bianco’ (white truffle, egg, Parmagiano, olive oil, salt, and white pepper) from Luca Donofrio’s pastificio inside the Flatiron Eataly, cooked for 2 minutes in a large pot of salted water, drained and tossed gently in a high-sided 10″ copper pot in which 2 tablespoons of rich Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter had been melted, divided into two shallow bowls and sprinkled with a little crumbled Castelmagno D’alpeggio DOP Guffanti from Eataly
  • Bien Cuit sourdough with Halkidiki (green) olive, to help with the truffle-butter-cheese sauce that remained

 

Also, and I’m coming out with it this one time: While we don’t usually have desserts, after the formal part of this meal and often that of others, there was access to chocolate-covered raisins and candied ginger pieces (washing dishes is not always its own reward).

venison, brandy sauce; quince chutney; parsnips; collards

venison_parsnips-collards-quince

I could easily get used to this.

 

Venison has always been one of my favorite entrées, but I’m becoming more and more comfortable with preparing it at home, and I’m really enjoying the process of selecting it from some of my favorite butchers.

This time I picked a fresh venison ‘shortloin’ from Frank (the game specialist brother) at Ottomanelli’s in the West Village.

We had expected to have guests, although we hadn’t starting asking friends until after they had already made commitments, as it turned out. We had both been under the weather for weeks, and arranging a dinner party didn’t get on the to-do list until later.

The piece, the very tenderest loin cut of red deer (cervus elaphus), that I had brought home was larger than we wanted for just ourselves (it’s a very rich meat), so I cut one section away after I had unwrapped the package and carefully stowed it in the freezer for another day.

The recipe I used is for the venison is by Brendan Walsh; it’s one from an article I had cut from the Daily News 30 years ago, and I still have the yellowing newsprint in my ‘game’ file. Walsh was the young chef at Arizona 206 at the time.

The venison was the only major part of this meal not sourced locally (American game is not allowed to be sold anywhere in the country), and many of the ‘minor’ elements – including the fantastic lemon[!] – were also from the New York City area.

I included some of the compote or chutney I had prepared for our Thanksgiving dinner, and which we have enjoyed again since; it was as luscious as ever.

 

parsnips

The tender parsnips were cooked mostly along the lines of a recipe, new to me, which I found on this site.

 

loose_collards

The sweet collards are old friends of ours.

 

  • two 7-ounce, one-inch thick medallions cut from a fresh, vacuum-packaged 22-ounce New Zealand venison ‘shortloin’ from D’artagnan, via Ottomanelli’s, dried rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coasting of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, set aside for more than an hour, after which it was placed over moderately high heat in 1-2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside an oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan, cooked barely medium rare, which meant about 2 minutes on one side, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, turned and cooked for another 2 minutes, transferred to warm plates, the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, a quarter cup of brandy (Courvoisier V.O. this time) added to the pan and cooked over high heat until reduced to about 2 tablespoons before the sauce was poured over the meat, which was then garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market (it was almost certainly the last of this sweet herb I will see from local farmers)
  • quince chutney, made following this theKitchn.com recipe, using a shallot from Keith’s Farm, a garlic clove from Stokes Farm, quince from Red Jacket Orchards, dried sweet cherries (don’t know whether they were local) from Whole Foods, fresh ginger from Lani’s Farm, apple cider from Locust Grove Fruit Farm (the recipe asked for apple cider vinegar, and I do have a bottle of the local stuff, from Race Farm, but I misread the instruction and the dish still turned out more than fine)
  • half to 3 quarters of a pound of young parsnips from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, peeled, cut, roughly into 3 to 4 inch lengths and half inch widths, tossed and stirred inside a medium copper pot in which 4 tablespoons of butter had been melted, the roots sprinkled with salt and pepper, removed with a slotted wooden spoon and the pot put aside on the stove, arranged on a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted in a 375º oven for about 45 minutes, after which half a tablespoon of juice and a teaspoon of zest from a sweet local lemon, from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a few pinches of freshly-grated nutmeg were added to the pot of melted butter reserved earlier, the parsnips added and tossed with the butter over medium heat for a minute or two, and the seasoning corrected, if necessary
  • some sweet late-season loose collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, cut as a very rough chiffonade, braised in a heavy pot in which one large clove of quartered garlic from Stokes Farm had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Napa) red, Ken Deis Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Reserve 2014, from Naked Wines

We had begun the meal with sips of champagne in the parlor, 2 steps below the dining gallery (it sounds fancy, especially since there were only the two of us, but it’s actually something we rarely indulge ourselves with).

The first course was one of my favorites, for its pleasures and for its ease of preparation.  Although this time I had completely forgotten to include the little bit of of balsamic vinegar I had even set out beforehand, it was still delicious.

sauteed_cabbage

  • inside a large enameled cast iron pot, one chopped garlic clove from Stokes Farm, sautéed in a tablespoon of olive oil only until golden, followed by less than 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar, 6 crushed juniper berries, and roughly half of a pound of a ‘conehead’ cabbage (also known as ‘caraflex’ or ‘arrowhead’ cabbage) from Norwich Meadows Farm, very finely sliced after the triangular core had been removed and set aside, the cabbage seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat raised, the mix fried for about one minute, stirring, then arranged in 2 shallow bowls (I’ve used the basic recipe a number of times as an appetizer when we have guests; it’s from ‘Healthy Italian Cooking‘, by Emanuella Stucchi, a slim ‘stealth vegetarian’ volume I had been using for years before I realized there was absolutely no meat or fish in any of the recipes it described
  • slices from a loaf of Eric Kayser’s ‘Pain aux Céréales’
  • the wine was a German (Mosel) white, Selbach Incline Dry Riesling Mosel 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault

We didn’t make it to a cheese course.

 

fried eggs with pea shoots, tomato, buckwheat toast

fried_eggs_pea_shoots2

I had thought it had to be a somewhat abbreviated breakfast/lunch thing yesterday, because of the holiday, or more specifically, our holiday schedule: The idea was to serve the main meal of the day much earlier than we did, and I had also not yet decided how I would prepare the featured venison – or what I would prepare to go with it. In the end however it was to be at least 6 more hours before we sat down to dinner.

speck, mizuna, sarrasin; malloreddus, butter, sage, shiitake

speck_mizuna_bread

It was the eve of Christmas, or just plain December 24th. We’d had our fish the night before (well, it was a Friday in Christendom), so I opted for a vegetarian pasta dish, but I introduced it with a few ounces of meat.

  • La Quercia Speck Americano, described as ‘applewood-smoked prosciuto’ (3 ounces), from Whole Foods, drizzled with olive oil, Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’, from Buon Italia, maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a squeeze of sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • served with a wonderful ‘baguette sarasin’ (buckwheat flour bread) from Eric Kayser

pasta_with_mushrooms

marinated, sautéed John Dory, pea shoots; tomatoes, leek

john_dory_tomato_leek

It’s only one fish, not 7 [as in Festa dei sette pesci], but then it wasn’t actually Christmas Eve, and it also wasn’t particularly Italian, but it was a small feast.

The basic recipe, with only slight alterations, and without the salad and croutons, is from this site.

I had intended to begin cooking the fillets with their skin side down, as specified in the recipe, but inadvertently began with the flesh side. I’m not certain how much of a difference it made, but I expect to find out the next time I use this delicious, fairly subtle recipe for a great fish.

  • two 6-ounce John Dory fillets from Pura Vida Seafood marinated in a shallow bowl for about half an hour in a mixture of half of a crushed garlic clove from Stokes Farm; one teaspoon of shredded leaves from a Full Bloom Market Garden basil plant from Whole Foods; the juice and zest of less than an eighth of a blood orange, also from Whole Foods; one half of a teaspoon of walnut oil; maldon salt; and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the marinade and placed flesh side down inside a large, tin-lined oval copper in which a little olive oil had been heated over a moderate-to-high flame, the heat immediately reduced slightly, the fish cooked for about 2 minutes, then turned and cooked for another 3 on the skin side, removed and served with a small bunch of pea shoots arranged at one end
  • one very small leek from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut lengthwise down the center, rinsed well under cold water, dried, chopped into small pieces, some of the greener parts at the top reserved, cooked in heated olive oil until wilted, eight or ten Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, quartered, slipped into the pan and barely heated, and a generous amount of chopped thyme from Keith’s Farm, salt, and sugar added and stirred into the vegetables, served with the reserved uncooked sliced leek sprinkled on top along with some of the chopped thyme that remained
  • the wine was a California (Napa Valley) white, Matt Iaconis Chardonnay Napa Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Luigi Rossi’s ‘Orfeo’, with the Choir and Orchestra of Les Arts Florissants, in a performance which, more than any I had ever before experienced, told me what a brilliant artist can do to raise a great work of art from the sleep to which it might otherwise might have remained condemned forever.

classic cacio e pepe, mixed with bigoli this time

cacio_e_pepe

There are few dishes simpler to put together than this one, and almost none which would be as satisfying – regardless of how hungry a diner might be.

Last night I didn’t have a thin pasta like bavette, a linguine fini, or even a penne, each of which I believe I have sometimes used over the years, so I cut open a one-kilo package of bigoli instead and weighted out 8 ounces. I thought I had violated a tradition in using these thick long tubes, but when I went on line later to check on what the classic cacio e pepe was, I came across a number of sites describing bigoli as the pasta of choice.

There also seems to be some disagreement about the cheese of choice: Most recipes indicate pecorino, some pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and I’ve also seen ‘Cacio di Roma’ paired with pecorino Romano.

I’ve generally gone with pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano myself, because that’s where my experience with this dish started, 15 years ago, and also because I have a soft spot for Amanda Hesser and her food writing.

The recipe is quite simple, and I’ve never really wandered from the original, described here, although without the charming introduction included in the original, 2002 article in the New York Times.

These are the ingredients I used this time:

breaded herbed swordfish, micro radish; brussels sprouts

swordfish_brussels_sprouts

This was another easily-assembled meal, and one which is always regardless of what subtle variations I’ve made to the basic recipe.

Brussels sprouts always seem to be a great accompaniment, even for fish.

brussels_sprouts2

  • two 8-ounce swordfish steaks off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, out of East Islip, from Long Island’s American Seafood Company stall in the Union Square Greenmarket), marinated for about half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, a tiny bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, and a very small amount of a very thinly-sliced small red onion from Phillips Farm, drained well and covered with a coating of dried homemade bread crumbs, pan-grilled above a fairly high flame for about 3-4 minutes on each side, removed, seasoned with salt and pepper, removed to the plates, sprinkled with a little local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Windfall Farms, and drizzled with olive oil
  • small Brussels sprouts from Hoeffner Farms, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, spread, without touching each other, onto a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, then roasted in a hot oven (400º) for about 20 minutes until slightly browned and crisp on the outside (they taste surprisingly sweet, and a bit nutty), finished in the pan with a small splash of balsamic vinegar

 

lemon-roasted pork chops; mustard greens; pickled beets

pork_chop_mustard_beets

This was the first fully-prepared meal I have been able (allowed) to put on the table since cutting off the tip of my index finger in a kitchen accident on the 7th, and I relished every bit of it.

In preparation, I went to the Greenmarket the day before, fairly late, as I had only to pick up a vegetable; I already had everything else I would need for the next day, whether I ended up deciding on meat (frozen Greenmarket pork) or fish (frozen Greenmarket crab cakes).

I picked one of the last fresh bunches of greens, purple mustard, reminding myself how good it was to still be able to enjoy such a treat near the end of December.

purple_mustard_greens

The meal, I had decided, should still be pretty simple, since I would be wearing a latex glove on my right hand to protect a bandage. In fact, like the one I had pulled off two days before, it could actually have been assembled with that hand behind my back. I’m just glad I didn’t have to.

  • two thick 9-ounce pork chops from Tamworth pigs from Grazin’ Angus Acres (heritage Tamworth pigs), thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy enameled cast-iron pan, 2 pieces of a floral-scented heatless orange habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm that I had dried this fall, placed on the top surfaces before half of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island was squeezed over them, after which the lemon was left on the surface of the pan between the chops, which were then placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over the top once again and once again replaced in the pan), the finished chops removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, some pea shoots/sprouts from Windfall Farms arranged around them, some of the pan juices poured over the top of the chops, the remainder poured into a sauce boat for use at the table
  • purple mustard greens (well, at least the pot liquor was purple-ish) from Norwich Meadows Farms, wilted in a little live oil in which one clove of  garlic from Stokes Farm, halved, had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
  • pickled red beets from Millport Dairy Farm