Author: bhoggard

steak, micro radish; rabe; oregano-baked cherry tomatoes

ny_strip_tomato_rapini

We owe a good part of the two meals we enjoyed on Sunday, the proteins in particular, to the Plain People of eastern Pennsylvania, and, specifically, John Stoltzfoos and his family who operate Millport Dairy Farm in Lancaster County.

The day had begun with a breakfast which included both their eggs and their bacon. The picture below shows micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge tossed on top of everything after the mixed herbs had been sprinkled on the eggs, but it was taken before dollops of the middle-eastern-style seasoning, L’eKama‘, the toast, or the thick bacon were added to the plate.

eggs_and_tomato

Dinner was a meal in which John’s family’s beef (pastured, grass-fed, like their chickens) was a featured attraction, along with some great vegetables.

  • one 14-ounce New York strip steak from Millport Dairy, dried, pan-grilled to medium rare, drizzled with a squeeze of lemon and a little olive oil, purple micro radish from Windfall Farm scattered on top
  • black cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures, slow-roasted with a generous amount of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, olive oil, and two halved organic garlic cloves from Race Farm
  • broccoli rabe from Alewife Farm, wilted in olive oil flavored with bruised garlic from Race Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, divided onto 2 plates and drizzled with more olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, Jim Olsen and Tom Shula Pickberry Merlot 2014
  • the music was ‘Clouds of Forgetting, Clouds of Unknowing’, by John Luther Adams, and we listened to it on a CD from New World Records, not to go retro, but mostly just because we could, and also because we just wanted to make sure the CD player still worked, since we have thousands of disks.

lomo; pasta, scapes, cucumber, mint, lemon, micro radish

lomo_arugul_olive_baguette

We started with a simple course of salume…

 

pasta_scapes_cucumber

…and finished with a simple course of pasta.

  • 10 ounces of Afeltra pasta di gragnano fusilli con buco from Eataly, cooked al dente, served with a simple fresh sauce which began with 3 minced cloves of garlic from Race Farm added to a bit of olive oil insiode a large enameled cast iron pot with at least 2 cups of tender garlic scapes from Berried Treasures Farm, cut into 2-inch lengths, sautéed for 3-4 minutes, part of one Chinese cucumber from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced into bite-size pieces, sautéed in olive oil in a separate pan until lightly browned added to the pot, then a little butter and most of the juice of one organic lemon added to the pan, the drained pasta tossed in, along with the zest from that same lemon once the butter had melted and a little chopped peppermint from Lani’s Farm, everything stirred over low heat, during which time some reserved cooking water was added to help emulsify it, seasoned with salt and pepper, and scattered with purple micro radish sprouts from Windfall Farms

 

‘gilded’ hake, marjoram, micro scallion; sautéed vegetables

hake_fennel_cucumber_turnip

The picture looks great, but it doesn’t tell everything.

The ingredients, and the recipes too, were excellent, but I’ll be honest: I made two blunders in the cooking process, although neither was much of a disaster, even a culinary disaster.

The hake fillet was pretty thick, thicker than those I normally have, and I underestimated the time it would require to cook. I had separated it into 2 pieces after I thought it was done, and they were already on the plates before I realized I was premature, so I quickly flipped off the garnish and returned them to the pan for another minute or so, replacing the micro scallions when they were returned.

The vegetables were also less than perfectly cooked, since I had let the chopped turnip, sautéed ahead of the others, get too carbonized, somewhat compromising enjoyment of the larger mix. The solution would be to simply pick out the more charred pieces, and it almost worked.

  • one 13-ounce hake fillet from Pura Vida Fisheries, dredged in seasoned flour and dipped in a beaten egg from Millport Dairy, sautéed in butter along with a handful of marjoram leaves from Stokes Farm, drizzled with lemon juice and the pan juices that remained, sprinkled with some beautiful micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • ten or so small purple Hinona Kabu turnips from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, cut into small pieces, sautéed in olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pan, followed by segments of a small fennel bulb, and cut some stems, from Stokes Farm, segments of a Chinese cucumber from Norwich Meadows Farm, and part of a small red Calabrian pepper, finely chopped, from Campo Rosso Farm, all cooked until beginning to caramelize, then seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm and chopped fennel frond, arranged on plates and drizzled with olive oil
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming

garlic-onion-pepper-eggplant-tomato frittata, micro radish

frittata

I had decided to assemble a frittata. I already had on hand just about anything I might want for it; as usual, the only question was which ingredients to include – and which to leave out.

Although it’s pretty difficult to mess up a frittata, it seems I really made the right calls this time. It was terrific.

I could point to the wonderful eggplant, but then how could I ignore the other first-class ingredients, the juicy garlic, the anaheim peppers, the two different kinds of perfectly-ripooe heirloom tomatoes, the sweet onions, and of course the eggs, the herbs, and the micro greens?

I just assembled the thing.

 

[In the interest of transparency, if it may not already have been obvious, I have to be clear that each of us enjoyed two servings like the one in the picture above]

 

vegetable_frittata

This is what it looked like when it was removed from the broiler.

 

  • one large garlic clove from Race Farm, roughly chopped, sautéed slowly inside a 10″ seasoned cast iron pan in a little olive oil with 2 small sliced fresh ‘green onions’ (fresh white onions) from Berried Treasures, two green Anaheim peppers from Lower Hayfields, a friend’s Hudson Valley garden, until these ingredients were all softening and had become fragrant, followed by also sautéing until softened and colored one Sicilian eggplant from Phillips Farm, chopped, and the addition of 8 eggs from Millport Dairy Farm which had been whipped with 3 tablespoons of water, sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a mix of chopped herbs (parsley, lovage, and tarragon, from Keith’s Farm; dill from Willow Wisp Farm; marjoram and thyme from Stokes Farm), the surface topped with slices of two ripe heirloom tomatoes and a handful of halved heirloom black cherry tomatoes, the mix cooked slowly on the top of the stove, the egg allowed to set at the edges, before it was placed under a broiler for a couple of minutes, or until the center was [judged to be] no longer runny, the pan removed, scattered on top with some micro purple radish greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and allowed to cool for a few minutes before serving

  • the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2015
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming, and it included Meredith Monk‘s ‘New York Requiem‘ and a piece by Ken Ueno, ‘On a Sufficient Condition for the Existence of Most Specific Hypothesis

blowfish; grilled eggplant, garlic, marjoram; tomato; cheese

blowfish_eggplant_tomato

For some reason I can no longer remember, I had persuaded myself long ago that I had no interest in blowfish. In any event, after last night’s meal, that’s changed.

I had seen recently on Twitter that these little guys were back in town (thanks to our hard-working Long Island fishermen and the Union Square Greenmarket). Thinking it was probably timer to give them another chance, I looked for a simple recipe.

I found it, and I think it would probably be a mistake to stray far from its austerity, the fish itself is so tasty.

Blowfish is a bit like fried perch, and, since I grew up in the midwest, I’ve had a lot of fried perch (even caught some), and I also miss it a lot. The texture is like perch as well, especially when lightly batter-fried. Where it differs most from [Perca flavescens] is in its reputation for danger (undeserved, at least as respects fish caught in our waters). There’s also the popular enthusiasm about consuming it as finger food, probably because of their size and shape, and the absence of any substantive bone but the spine (we passed on the finger thing).

We used forks and fish knives (less messy, and for a leisurely pace much more suitable for enjoying the wine).

blow_fish_frying

  • 12 blowfish tails from Blue Moon Fish Company, dredged in seasoned coarse stone-ground flour, pan-fried in olive oil (about an eighth to a quarter inches in depth) inside a very large cast iron pan, turning once, for about 2 minutes to each side (or until golden), served with lemon wedges

sicilian_eggplant

  • 2 Sicilian (heirloom) eggplants, from Phillips Farm, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds, brushed with olive oil, pan-grilled, turning 3 times, removed to a platter, brushed with a mixture of olive oil, finely-chopped garlic from Berried Treasures, chopped marjoram from Stokes Farm, lemon zest, and pepper, drizzled with a little olive oil and kept at room temperature, for a short while while the fish was fried.
  • slices of an ‘olive demi baguette’ from Hot Bread Kitchen in the Greenmarket

heirlooms

  • two small ripe red heirloom tomatoes from Lani’s Farm, sliced, mixed with a very good Campania olive oil, a bit of salt and pepper, and torn New York City basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods, served in bowls on the side of the entrée.

There was a small cheese course, and it gave me the opportunity to pull out my other favorite toaster, the trusty ‘Camp-A-Toaster‘, to get maximum crustiness from some odd slices of bread.

cheese_course

  • small bits of Consider Bardwell ‘Barden’ blue cow cheese, via the Greenmarket, and ‘Bergflichte’ a washed rind cow cheese from Thurgau, northern Switzerland, via Eataly
  • micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • toasts from a 3-day-old loaf of Bien Cuit baguette from Foragers Market

 

  • The wine was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lodi) white, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2015
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming, including Jörg Widmann’s violin concerto, and Eight Etudes and a Fantasy by Elliott Carter

baked cod, parsley, micro radish; sautéed cucumbers, dill

ligurian_cod_cucumbers

Comfort food: plain fish and potatoes.

Cod, to be specific; salted cod, but not ‘salt cod‘.

And Carola, to continue with specifics; originated in Germany, even better than Yukon.

I know there are absolutely no cod on the shores of Liguria, so the name of this recipe, ‘Ligurian Cod’, isn’t authentic, but the taste sure is.  The recipe is called ‘Ligurian fish and potatoes‘, although its author appears to have been pretty casual about the origin of the fish varieties he suggests; I assume it’s about availability this far from the Mediterranean.

It’s Mark Bittman’s recipe (or at least the one that appears in his 2004 article in the New York Times is my source), but I’ve been using it for so long I think of it as an adopted child.

This is another of those meals that we usually have to wait for cool weather to enjoy, because there’s definitely an oven involved.

It’s a wonderful dish, and very easy to put together.

pan_ligurian_cod

The picture above was taken just before the cod was placed in the oven.

 

  • one 17-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood at the Union Square Greenmarket, prepared along the lines of a recipe from Mark Bittman which I came across almost 12 years ago: I cut the fillet into three pieces (2 of them equaling the weight of the third, and laid them on a bed of coarse sea salt, then completely covered them with more salt, setting them aside while I sliced, to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch about 14 ounces of small carola potatoes (yellow flesh, creamy) from Keith’s Farm, tossed them with a tablespoon of olive oil, salt, and pepper, scatterd them in a ceramic baking pan, cooked them for 30 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender, meanwhile thoroughly immersing the cod in several changes of water and drying the two pieces before placing them in the pan on top of the potatoes, topping the fish with a little olive oil and scattering them with some freshly-ground pepper, returned the pan to the oven for 8 to 12 minutes (the time would depend on the thickness of the cod), arranged on 2 plates, chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm sprinkled on top, finished with a scattering of purple micro beets from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • Chinese cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced into bitesize pieces, sautéed in olive oil until lightly browned, seasoned with sea salt, sprinkled with chopped dill from Willow Wisp Farm
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming

pork chops, lemon, micro radish; peppers, scallion; tomato

pork_chop_tomato_peppers

It was cool that night, so I had no hesitation in firing up the oven to cook some lemon pork chops. The recipe is a favorite, normally enjoyed only in cool weather, and we’ve enjoyed these dark red (‘black’) cherry tomatoes before, but this variety of sweet peppers was new to me.

The peppers were Juicy, sweet, with a distinctive taste, and an oddly chewy texture – not at all unpleasant. I’m thinking they look surprisingly like egg noodles in the picture above, as they did on the table. For more clarification I thought I’d add an image of what they looked like as they finished cooking, but here they may look even more like noodles, maybe Spätzle.

french_peppers

  • two 7-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper and seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of a lemon was squeezed over the top (then left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, when the lemon was squeezed over them once again and replaced between them), removed from the oven, sprinkled with micro beets from Two Guys from Woodbridge, the luscious pan drippings, by then mixed with tomato juices [see below], spooned over the top
  • sweet heirloom orange peppers, described by the farmers as from southern France, from Campo Rosso Farm, sautéed in a large enameled cast iron pan until beginning to caramelize, joined part of the way through by some a small red Calabrian pepper, also from Campo Rosso Farm, and 2 red scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, chopped, sprinkled with chopped oregano from Stokes Farm, finished with a bit of balsamic vinegar, the vegetables stirred to mix with it and the herb, before being arranged on the plates, some of the green parts of the scallions, chopped, tossed on top
  • half a dozen or so halved black cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, tossed into the pan in which the chops had cooked just after they were placed on the plates, stirred into the pan juices, the heat softening the tomatoes before they were removed to the plates and sprinkled with some torn New York CIty basil leaves from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods
  • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Pievalta, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Classico Superiore, 2014
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming, part of their Shostakovich 24-hour marathon

sautéed herb-marinated squeteague; squash, olives, mint

weakfish_squash

The weakfish is a noble fish, but it is not a trout. It’s generally marketed as ‘ocean trout’, since ‘weakfish’ apparently projects a less-than-positive image to potential consumers. The ‘weak’ part is actually only the fish’s jaw, which tears apart easily when it is hooked (ouch), meaning it can easily escape from an angler.

I spent 20 years in Rhode Island, around waters where it was a familiar catch, and the Narragansetts‘ name for the species, ‘Squeteague‘, sounds right to me.

It’s delicious whatever you call it.

  • small Squeteague fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, marinated for almost an hour in the refrigerator, in a mix of a little olive oil, a crushed bay leaf, one minced garlic clove, and 6 different herbs, drained, allowed to come to room temperature, sautéed/fried for about 2 minutes in a large lightly-oiled cast-iron skillet which had been pre-heated to medium-hot, skin-slide down first, the fillets then turned and cooked for another minute, until opaque and firm, drizzled with a rich vegetarian garum-like liquid consisting of savoury juices I had retained from earlier meals

summer_squash_platter

  • various kinds of small green and yellow summer squash from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into 1/4″ slices, tossed in olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground pepper, pan-grilled, removed to a bowl where the they was tossed with a few pitted and sliced Kalamata olives, one small finely-chopped red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, a little lemon juice, and chopped peppermint from Stokes Farm
  • the wine was an Italian (Sardinia, Argiolas) rosé, Serra Lori Rosato Isola dei Nuraghi IGT 2015
  • the music was Q2 Music, streaming

shrimp with chipotle, saffron, cumin; fennel and tomatoes

shrimp_spanish_tomato_fennel

Our very own shrimp: local (Newburgh, NY), fresh (not frozen), sustainable (farmed), safe (purest water, natural nutrients), environmentally sound (small footprint), and delicious.

I just checked, and I realize that last night it had been the better part of a year since we had been able to enjoy Jean Claude Frajmund’s wonderful local shrimp, the harvest of his Eco Shrimp Garden. Incredibly delicious then, they seemed even better this time, although it may be that I now had some experience under my belt. The experience includes both research and practice in dealing with the difficulty of shelling shrimp, especially when they area as fresh as his, after they have been cooked in their shells.

But the shrimp was also “sort-of-Spanish”, and the wine definitely was.

I had been inspired by and persuaded to try Mark Bittman’s simple recipe, ‘Last-Minute Sort-Of-Spanish Shrimp’, last year. This is my November, 2016 post. Last night I headed for it again.  His full, entertaining discussion of its origins appears here.

It’s a wonderful recipe, really very simple, and substitutes can be used for ingredients not on hand.

The image of raw shrimp just below is from this older post.

The baby fennel, purchased yesterday was photographed at the farmer’s stall.

baby_fennel

The tomatoes in the photograph below are on our breakfast room windowsill (only the deep red cherry tomatoes were incorporated into this meal).

black_cherry_tomatoes_and_others

The next two images were captured during the cooking process, the shrimp in a very large cast iron pan just after they had been turned the first time, the vegetables in a slightly smaller copper pan just after I had added the tomatoes.

shrimp_cooking

fennel_tomato

  • one teaspoon of chopped garlic from Berried Treasures Farm, heated inside a (13 1/2″) cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, a pinch of Spanish saffron, one whole dried chipotle pepper from Northshire Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket (do not squish it) and a teaspoon of freshly-ground cumin seed added, all of it stirred for a minute or two, then 13 ounces (14 count) of Hudson Valley farmed shrimp from Eco Shrimp Garden (cut all along their backs, from head to tail, for ease of shelling later) added, seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit, and the shrimp cooked until firm while turned twice, served with a generous squeeze of lemon, garnished with parsley from Keith’s Farm, finished on the plates with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge [the micro greens are my addition to Mark Bittman’s recipe, and may seem like overkill, but they really work with the other flavors, and they are gorgeous]
  • a handful of baby fennel from Alewife Farm, trimmed at the top, stems and bulbs cut into 3 cm lengths, sautéed over medium high heat along with one roughly-chopped garlic from Berried Treasures, one small Grenada seasoning pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm (the best flavor of a habanero, with a fraction of the heat), and a teaspoon of Italian fennel seeds, until the fennel began to color, the heat lowered, the pan covered, cooked for another 5 or more minutes, the cover removed and 7 or 8 halved Black Cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm added, stirred, allowed to soften just a bit, the pan set aside until the shrimp had been cooked, divided onto the plates and garnished with the chopped fronds of the fennel
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) white, CVNE Cune Monopole, Rioja Blanco 2015, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was 3 concertos by Franz Josef Haydn and Leopold Hofmann

prosciutto, arugula; penne with tomato, basil, micro radish

prosciutto_arugula

penne_tomato_basil_micro

Still looking like summer (but also of the pig slaughtered last fall and cured).

The appetizer included 2 ounces of a salume on each plate, a bit of wild greens, and some phenomenal bread.

  • Applegate prosciutto from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very good olive oil from Campania (Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina), served with ‘wild arugula’ from Max Creek Hatchery, the greens also drizzled with the olive oil but also a little white balsamic vinegar, served with slices of Eric Kayser’s ‘Pain aux Céréales’

The main course pasta included no fish or animal products: Small amounts of a certain number of seasonings enriched just 2 basic ingredients, an excellent pasta and a great heirloom tomato at the peak of its ripeness.

  • two garlic cloves from Berried Treasures Farm, roughly cut, two very small red pearl onions from Paffenroth Farms, and one small yellow Grenada seasoning pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, all heated inside a large, enameled cast iron pot until they had become pungent and softened, the flame turned off, 8 ounces of Afeltra Penne Rigata, from Eataly, cooked al dente, added and mixed in, followed by a one-pound German Stripe heirloom tomato from Tamarack Hollow Farm, chopped, the mix seasoned with salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a generous amount of torn New York CIty basil from Gotham Greens, via Whole Foods, served in 2 shallow bowls, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge