It had been 2 months since we’d had cod, and almost 2 years since I’d prepared it on top of the stove, which was my choice on this hot day in June.

This dinner was absolutely delicious. The filet was cooked à point, and you can see the pools of its juices inside the crevices. The chard was also cooked to just the right moment, although that’s always much less of a challenge. Everything was super fresh, and neither the fish nor the vegetable recipe asked for much of a fuss, so it was actually pretty easy to get everything right.

• *a very fresh 18-ounce cod fillet from Pura Vida Seafood, divided into 2 portions, which was intended to also make it easier to turn over while cooking (actually, I cut the filet into 2 lengthwise sections this time, which would seem counterintuitive, but they survived intact, and they looked great on the plates), dredged lightly in a seasoned, coarse, stone-ground local flour, from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills Mills, that I had purchased in the Union Square Greenmarket, then dipped into a mixture of one beaten Americauna chicken egg from Millport Dairy Farm and half of a cup of chopped parsley from John D. Maderna Farms that had been picked the day before, sautéed in a heavy oval vintage copper pan over medium-high heat in a mix of olive oil and butter (one tablespoon of each), turning once, for a total of about 7 or 8 minutes, garnished with some special, very fragrant dill flowers from Windfall Farms, and drizzled with a little juice from a Whole Foods organic lemon

• *the last bunch of rainbow chard on the table at the Greenmarket stand of Alewife Farm today, wilted inside a a large antique high-sided copper pot in a couple tablespoons of Portuguese olive oil, a house brand of Whole Foods Market, in which a sliced section of a spring garlic stem from Berried Treasures had first been heated and softened slightly, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished with a little lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporao Alandra Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s 1688 opera ‘David et Jonathas’, in a performance by Pinchgut Opera

 

I only realized it was a  pretty black meal once I started looking at these pictures, now some 10 days after it was prepared (we had left for Los Angeles the day after).

But it was also a pretty black meal, and that makes me smile, some 10 days after we enjoyed it.

• some gorgeous salanova red butter lettuce from Alewife Farm, dressed with a vinaigrette made by slowly whisking some Spanish (Seville) olive oil from Whole Foods Market in a small bowl with a mix of a very small amount of grated spring garlic from Berried Treasures Farm, a bit of good Dijon mustard, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a good Italian white wine vinegar, Aceto Cesare Bianco,   (in a proportion of four parts oil to one part vinegar), sprinkled with some micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• a demi-baguette from Whole Foods Market

The pasta course, with its gentle sweetness, was a good foil for the acidity of the salad that preceded it. It was also just about as simple to prepare as the salad, a virtue much welcomed by the cook, since we would be flying to the West Coast the next morning.

• four garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in a olive oil inside an antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until they had begun to soften, a bit of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia added, then some of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, halved, and the contents stirred a little before half a pound of squid ink pasta (8 ounces of Severino squid ink strozzapreti from Whole Foods Market (a recent impulse purchase) that had just finished cooking al dente was added, the mix stirred again, along with some reserved pasta cooking water, until the liquids had emulsified, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, some olive oil poured around the edges, and finished with a garnish of micro mustard from Windfall Farms

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania/Ischia) white, Casa d’Ambra Ischia Bianco 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music throughout was the album, ‘Le Concert Spirituel au temps de Louis XV (1725-1774)’, Jordi Savall conducting Le Concert des Nations

It’s called Monkfish around here, but it’s also the delicacy the French call Lotte, the Italians Coda di rospo, the Spanish Cola de Rape, the Germans Seeteufel, and the English Anglerfish.  Whatever it’s known as, it’s a delicious fish, and not really like any other.

I love this dish, and the fact that the monkfish can be substituted with other firm white fish fillets, like sea bass or pollock. I go way back with it: The original recipe, from Mark Bittman, appeared in the New York Times almost 20 years ago; I still have his ‘The Minimalist’ dog-eared clipping in my files.

• nine or ten ounces of scrubbed and thinly-sliced medium-size Peter Wilcox potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, arranged, slightly overlapping, on the bottom of a glazed earthenware oven pan covered with 3 tablespoons, or slightly more, of a Spanish (Seville) house olive oil from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, 10 whole Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia scattered on the potatoes, and then more oil (another 3 tablespoons or so) poured on top, the pan placed inside a 400º oven for about 20 minutes, turning it back to front halfway through, and, when the potatoes had begun to brown, two thirds of a cup of pitted Sicilian black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia were scattered about them, and 4 monkfish ‘tails’ (a total of one pound) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood placed on top, the fish sprinkled with salt and pepper and the pan returned to the oven for another 10 minutes more, or until the monkfish was tender but not overcooked

• one bunch of long fava bean greens, stems and leaves, from Gorzynski Ornery Farm, washed in several changes of cold water, drained, chopped roughly, and gradually stirred into a large, heavy, antique copper pot in a tablespoon or more of olive oil already heated above a medium flame, until they had wilted, a generous amount of roughly-chopped ‘Common’ or ‘Mojito mint’, from S. & S.O. Produce, tossed in, followed by a bit of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, the vegetable arranged on the plates, drizzled with some more olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Bierzo) white, Palacio de Canedo Godello 2016, from Foragers Wine
• the music was the NOW Ensemble album, ‘Awake’, from New Amsterdam Records

It was the 3rd of June; it wasn’t supposed to be a day for a wintry meal, but as I considered my stocks, and the cold outside temperature, my original conception of it gradually evolved into something looking and feeling like something more appropriate for a cooler month.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, then left standing, first inside the refrigerator and later on the counter for about an hour altogether before it was pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat to be strained and used in cooking at another time, if desired), removed when medium rare, cutting crosswise into 2 portions and checking that the center was of the right doneness, which means definitely no more than medium rare, and maybe even a bit less, left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and a little Spanish (Seville) house olive oil from Whole Foods Market, finished on the plates garnished with micro mustard greens from Windfall Farms

• a pound of so of medium-size Peter Wilcox potatoes (purple skin, golden flesh) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, their skins left on, cut into wedges, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, and a bit of crumbled dry golden/orange habanada pepper,  the potatoes arranged, cut side down, on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at 400º for about 35 minutes, garnished with chopped summer savory from Stokes Farm

• two bundles of spring seed stalk burdock (or wild cardoon, but think ‘artichoke’ for the flavor!) from Gorzynski ‘Ornery’ Farm, the tops, with the leaves, removed, the stems washed, the bitter outer stringy layer pulled back from the center and torn off, using a thumb, until what remained was only the creamy pale-to-medium green interior, each stem cut into 2-inch segments as it was completed, and those pieces dropped into a bowl of water in which a heavy squeeze of lemon had been added (to keep the burdock from oxidizing and turning brown), removed from the bowl when all the stalks had been cleaned and cut, dried on a kitchen towel, tossed into a dry bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted on another shelf of the same 400º oven for about 30 minutes, then tossed while still in the pan with roughly-chopped Common mint from S. & S.O. Produce [I was already heating the oven for the potatoes, but I could also have just sautéed the cardoon inside a pan on top of the range, maybe in brown butter, finishing with a squeeze of lemon juice]
• the wine was an Austrian (Carinthia) red, Markowitsch Blaufränkisch 2016, from Astor Wines

• the music was Janice Giteck’s album, ‘Home (revisited)’ (I bought the CD at Tower Records in 1992, basically because I loved the cover, and because it was in the New Music section; at the time I had never heard of the composer, I didn’t know that the image was by Eggleston, and I didn’t know she had dedicated the pieces to people living with AIDS)

A bowl of steamed mussels is one of the most satisfying one-dish meals you can place before guests, and it’s also one of the easiest. I’ve been using the same recipe for years, and I really should come up with a new one. But this one is so good, and I bring these beautiful bivalves home so seldom (I don’t know why), that there’s not much motivation to look for another.

This dish is perfect for a hot evening, since the entire process requires less that the heat (a burner on top of the stove) be on for than 5 minutes. I found the recipe in the New York Times, where it was described as adapted by Sara Dickerman from “The Herbal Kitchen,” by Jerry Traunfeld.

There are also few ingredients, with little preparation needed (what there is to do is very easy and can be done leisurely), and everything goes into the pot at once.

The mussels were fresh, and seemed just about perfect, their little shells snapped tightly closed, until they had been steamed (we didn’t lose a single one).  Also, there were almost no beards to be trimmed (apparently they were all boy mussels or pre-teens).

The tomatoes were spectacular, as I had come to expect from this farmer, over several years.

• two and a quarter pounds of small mussels, purchased from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket early that afternoon, scrubbed, and de-bearded where necessary, combined in a large heavy enameled pot (a ‘dutch oven’ in fact) with over two cups of halved cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm that were billed, with understandable pride, ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’, half a cup of good white wine, a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporao Alandra Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines, a few tablespoons of chopped red shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm, three and a half tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, and some coarsely-chopped lovage from Berried Treasures Farm, the pot covered and its contents simply steamed over high heat for a few minutes, arranged in shallow bowls, along with the wonder pot liquor, and sprinkled with a little more lovage (I didn’t include pepperoncino this time around, mostly because I forgot)
• served with a crusty whole wheat sourdough baguette from from Runner & Stone Bakery

I set the table with bigger spoons than usual this time, to better enjoy the liquid, and that meant bringing out some larger pieces of old coin silver, for the first time (we don’t have soup very often). They’re light and thin, but quite large, which was standard for a period all-purpose spoon, unless it was to be used for stirring tea; the key is to fill them only a little each time. They were made in southern Ohio, either Cincinnati or Chillicothe, by Edward P. Pratt, almost 200 years ago. They look brand new; maybe their previous owners didn’t serve soup very often either.

• small slices of a vegan chocolate bread from Bread Alone, topped with a scoop of Talenti (New Jersey) Vanilla Bean Gelato from Whole Foods Market
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Quinta Do Crasto Branco 2014, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the James Tenney album, from New World Records, titled, ‘Spectrum Pieces’

It’s scape season. Actually, we’re well into the season but this was my first outing with these delightful promises of summer, the flower shoots of the garlic plant.

I put together a pretty light pasta last night, to save both time and the wonderful flavors of these buds. 

• the second half of the one-pound package of the New York City pasta, Sfoglini’s Buffalo milk spaccatelli (the first half was used 2 weeks ago in this meal) that had just finished cooking until barely al dente, served with a simple fresh sauce which began with at least 2 cups of tender garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into 2-inch lengths, sautéed in olive oil for 3 or 4 minutes, 2 tablespoons of butter and most of the juice of one organic lemon from Whole Foods added to the pan, the pasta added once the butter had melted, along with the zest from that same lemon, everything mix stirred over low heat, during which time some reserved cooking water was added to help emulsify it, the mix seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged in 2 low bowls, scattered with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and with a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edge
• the wine was an Italian (Marche) rosé, De Angelis Marche Rosato IGT 2017, from Foragers Wines
• the music was an album of Grazyna Bacewicz string quartets

Germans in Louisiana.

I admit I don’t always get irony, and besides, why couldn’t there be Germans in Louisiana?

Barry picked up 4 sausages at Schaller & Weber on Wednesday. It’s the very German butcher and grocery store on the upper east side, which makes their own sausages. While he was still there, he texted me this image of a pre-packed version of the same Andouille, because the packaging had a description of the product on the label.

“A SPICY SAUSAGE FROM LOUISIANA’S GERMAN COAST”

I took the words literally, which Barry found amusing when I mentioned it once he had returned home. It seems I hadn’t understood the conceit: The smart young German-American owner of his family’s traditional ethnic food shop, one that had opened in intensely German Yorkville over 80 years ago, was playing with contemporary New York taste, and the superficial absurdity of a spicy Cajun sausage having anything to do with Germans.

All of this might have been true, but after a little searching on line just now, I learned that an important German migration (mostly Rhinelanders, who seem to have been the most prosperous and mobile), settled in the areas now called Cajun in 1717-1722, preceding by 40 or 50 years the arrival of the Acadians from Canada, following Le Grand Dérangement. The German area was, and still is known as the German Coast. One account says these Germans were responsible for introducing sausages to the region.

We didn’t need this intelligence to enjoy the delicious sausages we had last night, but I’m delighted to learn that Jeremy Schaller knows his history – and his geography.

• four fresh links of Louisiana German Coast-style spicy Andouille sausage from Schaller & Weber’s store, pan grilled for a few minutes, turning often until well scored on all sides, served with Inglehoffer  cranberry mustard (a perfect condiment for strong spicy sausages)
• two halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, heated gently face down, then turned, inside a small vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pan, sprinkled with a little chopped chopped summer savory from Stokes Farm
• one bunch of red Russian kale from Migliorelli Farm, washed, drained, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil in which a section of spring garlic from Berried Treasures Farm had first been allowed to soften, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, where a little more olive oil was drizzled on top
• the wine was a California (Pine Mountain–Cloverdale, of Sonoma County) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Cabernet Sauvignon Pine Mountain Vineyard-Cloverdale Peak 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Gloria Coates’ Symphony No. 7, with Jorge Rotter conducting the Siegerland Orchestra; and her piano trio, ‘Lyric Suite’, ‘Split the Lark – and you’ll find the Music’, performed by members of the Kreuzer Quartet

I would be completely satisfied with the wonderful variety of seafood we have off our own shores (with a little help from shrimp and trout farmers) if it weren’t for the fact that the order octopada isn’t included.

When we are able to enjoy this delicacy, either we or the octopuses have to get on a plane* to make it possible.

• four 3 or 4-ounce previously-frozen baby Spanish octopuses (.83 pounds), from our neighborhood Lobster Place, marinated in the refrigerator and then on the kitchen counter for about an hour (the original recipe suggested 2 or 3 hours) in a mixture of 1/4 cup olive oil; one teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from the Madonie Mountains in Sicily; the zest and juice of half of an organic Whole Foods lemon; 1/4 teaspoon of crushed peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia; 1/2 teaspoon of salt; and the green part of a spring garlic stem, chopped thinly, the octopus removed from the mix, drained a bit and pan-grilled over a high flame for 10 or 12 minutes mouth/beak side down first, then placed on 2 of its sides (optionally, with a piece of aluminum foil loosely covering the grill pan throughout because of their moderate thickness in this case), served with a squeeze of the same lemon and some olive oil, and garnished with chopped fresh oregano from Neversink Farm
• Pinto potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large, still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a tablespoon of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and some micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• six halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, heated gently, face down, then turned, inside a medium copper skillet, garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• the tomatoes were arranged on top of small, surprisingly bitter, spring radicchio plants from Tamarack Hollow Farm (I bought their last bag, seen in the picture, and, silly me, I had first thought they were selling the plants by the each)
• the wine was a Spanish (Canary Islands) white, Tajinaste Blanco Seco 2016, from Foragers Market Wine (note: there are octopuses in the Canary Islands)
• the music was the Paola Prestini album, ‘Labyrinth Installation Concertos’

* I’m assuming octopuses fly to get here.

Our Sunday egg regimen was moved to Monday this week, and it was simplified slightly along the way. In the interest of getting a (relatively) early start on our visit to the Whitney, I went easy on the condiments, and I skipped the bacon. I was rewarded, for the first time in weeks, with rich perky egg yolks that didn’t break before they were asked to.

Because it was Monday and not Sunday, we accompanied ourselves with the very secular John Cage.

• the ingredients included Americauna chicken eggs from Millport Dairy Farm fried in Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ and sprinkled with chives from Lani’s Farm; Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market heated in Whole Food Market Spanish (‘Seville’) house olive oil, sprinkled with chopped sage from Stokes Farm; Maldon salt; freshly-ground black pepper seasoning both the eggs and the tomatoes; the plate garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, with toast slices from a loaf of Twelve Grain & Seed bread from Bread Alone
• the music was John Cage, a good part of his long ’44 Harmonies from Apartment House 1776′

It was Memorial Day weekend, so I made an attempt to observe the holiday that once celebrated the countless dead in our many wars but which now marks the beginning of the summer season.

On Sunday night we had steak and French fries, with a tomato salad, or, to be more precise, seared and sautéed culotte steaks and rutabaga oven fries with something more like a sweet and sour tomato salsa.

• two 7-ounce culotte steaks from Sunfed (grain finished) from Greg and Mike of Sun Fed Beef/Maple Avenue Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared briefly on the top, or thick fat-covered side (much of the fat is rendered in the cooking, and the rest just makes the steak taste wonderful), inside an oval enameled cast iron pan, then cooked for 3 or 4 minutes on each side to rare-to-medium-rare, after which the narrow bottom side was seared, very briefly, the steaks removed from the pan, placed on the plates, juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed on top, sprinkled with chopped lovage from Berried treasures Farm, drizzled with a Whole Foods Market Spanish (‘Seville’) house olive oil, and allowed to rest for about 4 minutes

The cut rutabaga was tossed into a bowl with olive oil and some friendly seasonings before it saw the oven.

• a little over a pound of rutabaga from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, dried, peeled, and cut as for French fries, tossed with about one tablespoon of olive oil, some sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, some leaves that had been torn from a few sprigs of Stokes Farm rosemary, and a bit of crushed dried pieces of  golden/bronze habanada pepper, then spread evenly, without crowding, onto 2 large, seasoned, unglazed ceramic oven pans, roasted at 400º for about 30 or 35 minutes, garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• more than a handful of small, very sweet grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms in southern New Jersey, halved, tossed in olive oil, salt, pepper, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, and a little chopped flowering sage from Stokes Farm, arranged inside 2 small ceramic prep bowls placed on top of the plates, each of them garnished with a flowered stem of the herb
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) red, Crasto Douro Superior 2014, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Gloria Coates’ fourth and seventh symphonies