I’ve always gotten easily carried away with herbs, especially the less familiar varieties (and the choices continually broaden); I’m now totally addicted to micro greens, even if they aren’t always green.

• one duck breast (13 ounces) from Hudson Valley Duck, the fatty side scored in 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 (in our kitchen, the bowl of sugar has been infused over time with a vanilla bean), the duck left standing for about 45 minutes before it was pan-fried, first the fatty side down, in a tiny bit of olive oil, over medium heat, draining the oil part of the way through, to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired, removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is medium-rare), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of organic lemon and drops of a very good Campania olive oil, and scattered with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge [NOTE: the tenderloin, removed from the breast before cooking, and also marinated, was fried very briefly near the end of the time the breast itself was cooking]
• two small seasoned pan-grilled ‘black’ plum tomatoes (they darken as they ripen) from Berried Treasures Farm, finished with a dab of olive oil, a bit of balsamic vinegar, and sprinkled with torn leaves of New York CIty basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods
• two Kirby cucumbers, from Paffenroth Gardens, unpeeled, cut into 1/4″ slices, sautéed over a medium-hot flame in a little olive oil along with two very small red pearl onions from Paffenroth Farms until lightly browned, a very small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, finely chopped added most of the way through, the vegetables seasoned with salt and a little pepper, divided onto 2 plates, drizzled with a little olive oil, and sprinkled with bronze micro fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Lodi), Karen Birmingham Reserve Zinfandel 2014
• the music was Johann Friedrich Fasch, ‘Orchestral Works Vol. 2’, perforemd by Tempesta di Mare, and the Philadelphia Baroque Orchestra

There was an appetizer (insalata Caprese) , and there was excellent cheese after, both very good, but the, really extraordinary part of this meal was the main course – including a great Spanish wine.

• one swordfish steak (12 ounces) from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, in the Union Square Greenmarket, carefully cut into 2 equal portions, marinated for about half hour in a mixture of olive oil, 4 different chilis (a very small amount of dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, part of a small red Calabrian peppers from Campo Rosso Farm, some excellent powdered Nigerian cayenne pepper, and a powdered Spanish dulce paprika ), fresh oregano buds and leaves from Stokes Farm, chopped, and some finely-chopped small red pearl onions from Paffenroth Farms, after which it was drained well and covered with a coating of homemade dry bread crumbs mixed with a little salt, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, removed, seasoned with salt, sprinkled with a little lemon juice, some purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and drizzled with olive oil before serving
• the flowerets of a 10-ounce yellow cauliflower from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in a pan in which roughly-sliced garlic cloves from Willow Wisp Farm, some crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili and more than a teaspoon of Italian fennel seeds had been heated, braised for a few minutes, until beginning to caramelize, eventually joined by 5 ounces of parti-colored ripe cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, the cooking continued until the tomatoes had begun to collapse, finished by stirring in some NYC basil from Gotham Greens, via Whole Foods, and peppermint from Stokes Farm, both torn, and sprinkled with micro bronze fennel when arranged on the plates
• the wine was a superb 16-year-old Spanish (Rioja) white, Viña Gravonia Rioja Blanco, Lopez de Heredia (ours was a 2005), from Astor Wines & Spirits
• the music was Giulio Caccini’s opera, ‘L’Euridice’, first performed at the Pitti Palace, Florence, in December, 1602 [more information here]

I didn’t start early enough to prepare the ‘tomato water’ which was a part of a recipe I had used for this wonderful fish last July. The other problem I had last night was that I didn’t want to turn on the oven, a step necessary for my second favorite treatment of tautog (blackfish), so I improvised.

I used the basics of Melissa Clark’s recipe, but left out the tomato water, instead I added some incredibly sweet and flavorful small, ripe cherry tomatoes (in several shades of both orange and red) I had picked up the same day.

The fish was really, really good. This new recipe will be my new first choice, at least until I need variety again.

The vegetable was serendipity and one of my favorites, for accompanying fish, meat, pasta – anything – also by itself, raw, as a terrific appetizer:  A beautiful bulb of fennel ended up on the counter last night, the gift of a friend.

• two 6-ounce fillets of tautog, or blackfish, from Pura Vida Fisheries [prepared following a recipe by Melissa Clark published in the Times four years ago, substituting a mix of excellent cayenne pepper and a dulce paprika for Aleppo pepper], seasoned with salt, black pepper, and a few pinches of a mix of sweet Spanish paprika and Nigerian cayenne pepper, placed in a large heavy oval copper pan over a medium-low flame, a mix of a few Moroccan and Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, pitted and chopped, scattered around the fish, the fillets cooked for about 4 minutes, flipped and cooked for another 4 minutes, near the end of which time a couple handfuls of some awesome cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm were tossed into the pan, stirred and allowed to begin to break down, the fish and the olives transferred to 2 plates, the tomatoes spooned around the fillets, and everything sprinkled with NYC basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods and peppermint from Stokes Farm, both torn, topped with a drizzle of good olive oil and some flaky Maldon salt
• a small fennel bulb and its tender stems, from From Fishkill Farms, via the CSA allotment of a colleague of Barry’s, bulb cut into wedges, stems cut into segments, sautéed in a large iron pan over medium high heat with 2 whole crushed garlic cloves from Willow Wisp Farm, a small amount of crushed dried Sicilian peperoncino from Buon Italia, and some Italian fennel seeds until the fresh fennel began to color, then, with the heat lowered and the pan covered, cooked for ten more minutes, occasionally stirring, seasoned, and a generous amount of chopped fennel fronds added at the end

There was a very small cheese course

• the cheeses were ‘Coupole’, a goat cheese from Vermont Creamery, via Foragers Market, and 2 cheeses from Consider Bardwell Farm, ‘Slybro’ (also goat) and Rupert (cow); the grapes were ‘champagne’, from Caradonna Farms; the herbs were a bit of basil and mint leftover from the entrée

 

• the wine throughout was a French (Bordeaux) white, Château Ducasse Bordeaux Blanc 2015, with an grape blend of 60% Sémillon, 35% Sauvignon Blanc, 5% Muscadelle, the large proportion of Sémillon, being unusual for the region
• the music was Antonio Vivaldi’s 1737 opera, ‘Catone in Utica’, Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco

For me it was a virtually a night off (but I still did the dishes).

• eight ounces of Setaro spaghetti chitarra from Buon Italia, with a simple sauce which included olive oil, garlic from Willow Wisp Farm, part of a small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, chopped, one red heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm and one green heirloom tomato from Stokes Farm, a few very sweet, very ripe cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, and a sprinkling of chopped dill from Willow Wisp Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2014
• the music was  ‘[Johann Jacob] Froberger, Suites and Tocattas‘, played by Christophe Rousset

We’ve been collecting a few rieslings over the last months, but hadn’t had entrées suitable for this special wine. This past week I decided it was time, so I thought of putting together a simple meal of trout accompanied by a couple of more-or-less-Germanic vegetables.

I was aiming for fresh whole trout, but this past Wednesday, the only day on which Dave Harris and his Max Creek Hatchery are in Union Square, there was, literally, a run on the market. Blue Moon, the other fish seller who would normally have also been there that day, had to cancel because Hermine had been hanging around, stirring up the waters off eastern Long Island, making it too dangerous for a boat to go out the day before.

Dave mostly doesn’t have to think about hurricanes or cyclones (he’s located very much inland, far west of Albany). He and his truck were there all set up, but not surprisingly, the fresh trout went fast. He told me he hadn’t known that he would be the only game in town that day, or he would have brought more stock down from the north. When I got there, a little past noon, there were no more fresh trout, but he still had some of the smoked, and that’s what I built that night’s meal around.

The model was pretty German, but the elements were almost entirely local. This time ‘local’ included the wine as well. The Treleaven dry riesling wasn’t just a New York state wine, but one I had purchased only a mile away, in the Union Square Greenmarket, from which almost everything else in this meal was assembled.

• three quarters of a pound of a single smoked trout from Max Creek Hatchery, skinned, boned, divided, one side placed on each of 2 plates, served with a mix of a really good prepared mayonaise, Sir Kensington’s, plain, Classic Mayonnaise (made by ex-Brown students, with headquarters in SoHo), lemon zest and lemon juice, and chopped fresh dill from Willow Wisp Farm
• the potato salad was about as simple as I could imagine preparing, using 12 ounces of small red new potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled, thinly-sliced (skins left on), mixed, while still warm, with a couple tablespoons of good red wine (Chianti) vinegar into which a generous pinch of sugar had first been stirred and diluted, followed by 2 thinly-sliced small red pearl onions from Paffenroth Farms, the mix seasoned with salt and pepper, cooled to room temperature, finished with a little olive oil, chopped parsley, and lovage, both from Keith’s Farm
• the cucumber salad was also pretty plain, by my normal standards, including no onion, only thinly-sliced cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, white wine (Langhe) vinegar (Cesare Giaccone aceto di vino bianco), water, sugar, a little chopped garlic, and dried cumin seed (in lieu of the dill seed I didn’t have), chilled for more than an hour
• fourteen of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes‘ from Stokes Farm, rolled in a little good Campania olive oil, Malson salt, and freshly-ground pepper, sprinkled with a bit of torn basil
• the wine was a New York (Cayuga Lake) white, Treleaven Dry Riesling 2013, from King Ferry Winery, via the winemakers’ stall in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the music was German, Johann Friedrich Fasch, Orchestral Works, Vol. 1

I’ve written before about how much I like Sfoglini pasta (quality, variety of forms and content, seasonal specialties, local origin, striated surfaces). On Tuesday evening I finished the second half of my package of their ‘Rye Trumpets’ (the Italians call the shape, ‘campanelle’, or bells, suggesting these), this time adding an ingredient as rare as, or more rare than that pasta: sautéed cucumbers; more exotic still, they were a variety most people have never seen, Jamaica Burr.

• Jamaica Burr cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced about 1/4″ thick, dried, sautéed in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until beginning to color, and then one very small, seeded, finely-chopped red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm and several chopped scallions added, in that order, near the end, the vegetables seasoned with salt and pepper before they were mixed with half a pound of Sfoglini rye blend ‘trumpets which were cooked seriously al dente, everything (including some of the reserved pasta water) tossed and stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, served sprinkled with fennel flowers from Ryder Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Alto Adige/Südtirol) white, from Chelsea Wine Vault, La Manina Manincor 2013
• the music was Mozart divertimentos/serenades, from the 3-disc album, ‘Mozart: Complete Wind Music‘, in performances by the London Wind Soloists , directed by Jack Brymer

The steak was familiar, even to the topping, and so was the okra, even if these were the smallest I had ever cooked, or seen, for that matter. The sweet peppers looked only a little like any I had seen before, and they were definitely smaller than any I had cooked until last night.

I bought the okra because this scant handful was all that was left in the plastic basket in the farm stall; they looked lonely and they were cute.

The peppers, I was assured by the farmer, Chris Field, were not spicy; I love peppers in any form, and I decided these tiny ones could also liven up a meal with their color. I never suspected that they would have a very distinctive flavor, and that they would almost pop inside the mouth, both properties a bit like the South African ‘Peppedew‘.  While talking to Chris at his stand on Saturday, I forgot to ask what they are called, but I may have found an answer while looking on line today: the name may be ‘Little-Beak Peppers’, or ‘Pimenta Biquinho’.

I didn’t think I would be serving the little okra and peppers together (way too cute), but that’s what happened when I lined up the alternatives for 3 meals this weekend.

Yeah, it was pretty cute.

• two very juicy tri-tip steaks (each just under 7 ounces) from Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, brought to room temperature, dried and sprinkled generously with freshly-ground tellicherry pepper on both sides, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning twice (sprinkling them with sea salt the first and second times they were turned), removed to 2 plates, a little lemon juice squeezed on top, drizzled with olive oil, purple micro radish from Two Guy From Woodbridge sprinkled over the top
• barely a handful of tiny okra from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed over a high flame in a cast iron pan with a little olive oil and a good part of one small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, seasoned with sea salt, divided onto the 2 plates, scattered with homemade breadcrumbs (browned a little earlier in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt)
• tiny red and yellow peppers (not at all spicy hot) from Campo Rosso Farm, sautéed a few minutes inside a copper skillet with a little olive oil, ending with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar, seasoned with salt and pepper, torn basil leaves mixed in, as they finished cooking
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) red, Karen Birmingham Petite Sirah Clarksburg 2014
• the music was that of Hanns Eisler and Paul Dessau, from the album, ‘Nova – Sinfonik In Der Ddr – East German Symphonies’, the day being American ‘Labor Day’, and, although “..officially held in highest esteem, [these 2 East German composers] both challenged the regime artistically.” [excerpted from the album notes – Ed.]

I know that the pleasure of eating octopus, to say nothing of an interest in preparing it, isn’t something many people share with me, but I’m both really fond of the taste, and continually excited about how incredibly easy it is to prepare.

I also love the color.

Octopus can be found on almost every coast on earth, except our own, the northern western Atlantic. I would love to bring home a local catch, but for the ones we enjoyed Sunday night, I had to travel to Spain (by way of lobster Place) once again.

While these baby cephalopods came from Iberia, polipetti is in fact very Italian, and virtually everything about this meal was also Italian, in fact southern Italian (and much of it really was from Italy): the cheese, the various tomatoes, the bread, the basil, the olive oil, the oregano (fresh and dried), the lemon, the dried chilis, the eggplant, the mint, and the dinner wine itself.

I prepared the grilled heirloom eggplant and cherry tomatoes ahead of time, even prior to assembling the the first course, serving both at room temperature, in Italian tradition, after arranging them on this platter.

 

The meal actually began with an insalata Caprese.

• one red and one orange heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm, sliced into bit-size pieces, arranged on 2 plates, bits of Italian Mozzarella di Bufala Campania from Buon Italia tucked in between the slices, drizzled with a Campania olive oil, Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina, sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, torn leaves of basil from Lucky Dog Organic Farm sprinkled on top
• the bread was ‘Sesamo’, from Sullivan Street Bakery

The second course was incredibly simple, because the vegetable had already been prepared and the octopus had only to be removed from a marinade begun in leisure 3 hours earlier, then placed on a grill pan for a few minutes before being finished with lemon, oregano, and oil.

This gorgeous eggplant, a variety totally new to me, was incredibly delicious, and really juicy (since I’m talking about eggplant, I’ll add, “jucy in the very best way”).

• four baby octopus (a total of about 12 ounces) from Lobster place, marinated in the refrigerator, covered, for 3 hours (although as little as one hour would be acceptable) 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 a lemon; 1/4 teaspoon of crushed dried Sicilian peperoncino from Buon Italia; 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt; and 2 finely-chopped small garlic cloves from Willow Wisp Farm, the octopus removed from the mix and brought to room temperature, pan-grilled on high heat for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on size, on each ‘side’ (that is, in the case of this creature, mouth/beak down, then lying down on a side), served drizzled with olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, and chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm
• one round Italian heirloom eggplant, ‘Prosperosa’, from Franca at Berried Treasures Farm, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds, brushed with a mixture of olive oil, finely-chopped garlic from Willow Wisp Farm, chopped peppermint leaves from Stokes Farm, salt, and pepper, the slices pan-grilled, turning once, and just before they were done, joined by 16 of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, the eggplant and the tomatoes arranged on an oval platter, garnished with mint leaves (although, admittedly, ‘garnishing’ is not an Italian gesture at all) and kept at room temperature until the octopus had been cooked
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Falanghina Feudi di San Gregorio 2014
• the music was from the album, ‘Comedie et Tragedie – Lully, Marais, Rebel’ (early 18th-century music by Jean-Baptiste Lully, Jean-Féry Rebel, and Marin Marais, performances by Tempesta di Mare)

Aside from the fact that it looks like fried egg pie, this isn’t what most people think of when they think, ‘fried eggs’.

I just can’t leave fried eggs alone, and this morning I had an extra incentive for going a little further than even I normally do, having realized at the last minute that I didn’t have any bacon to accompany our Sunday breakfast/lunch.

The eggs looked – and tasted – so good, I forgot to add my latest favorite condiment, a terrific locally-made middle-eastern-style seasoning blend, ‘L’eKama‘.

• the eggs were from Millport Dairy Farm, and, other than the salt and pepper, everything else was from a tub of herbs and spices not used in very recent meals (already washed and sometimes cut) which I keep in a tub in the refrigerator: the thin scallion stems from Race Farm, the finely-chopped portion of a small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, the herbs from various Greenmarket farmers
• the bread was some very-lightly-toasted slices of ‘Sesamo’, from Sullivan Bakery

The colors, deeper than those displayed on these pages, suggest we’ve moved into late summer.

Although it’s barely worth mentioning, there’s the fact that the same herb or vegetable was used in 2 or 3 different forms in 2 of the 3 items on the plates last night. It hadn’t really been a plan, but I ended up finishing the ground-dry-fennel-covered tuna with fresh fennel flowers, and the radish roots and greens with fresh micro radish, and it worked.

In a related move, the sweet acidity of the tomato was accompanied by another sweet acid, a balsamic vinegar, but this is something I do very often.

• one 13-ounce tuna steak, divided into 2 pieces, rubbed top and bottom with a mixture of dry Italian fennel seed and a little dried Itria-Sirissi chilis (peperoncino di Sardegna intero) from Buon Italia, first ground together in a mortar-and-pestle, the surfaces additionally seasoned with salt, and pepper, pan-grilled for only a little more than a minute or so on each side, finished with a good squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods, scattered with fresh fennel flowers from Ryder Farm, and drizzled with a very good olive oil
• small seasoned pan-grilled ‘black’ (they darken as they ripen) plum tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, finished with a dab of olive oil and a bit of balsamic vinegar
• one small bunch of radishes (‘Easter Egg’) from Willow Wisp Farm, washed and halved, the leaves removed and set aside, sautéed in a little olive oil in a copper skillet for a few minutes, 5 small scallions from Race Farm, sliced, along with part of a finely-chopped small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm added near the end of the cooking, after which the radish leaves, cut into smaller pieces, were introduced into the pan, stirred, and allowed to wilt, the mix sprinkled with salt and pepper, more of the chopped scallion added at this time, and a little white wine poured in and stirred, until the liquid had evaporated
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, I Vini della Sibilla Falanghina dei Campi Flegrei 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was again from the excellent 4-disc album, ‘The Sons of Bach‘ this time pieces by Johann Christian Bach, ‘the London Bach’, or ‘the English Bach’