This dinner had the ingredients, aromas and feel of a hearty stew on a wintry night, although no pot had left the kitchen cupboard.

• two small veal loin chops from Consider Bardwell Farm, rubbed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, brought fully to room temperature, seared, rubbed with crushed garlic from Lucky Dog Organic, roasted in a 375º oven for seven or eight minutes, flipping once, removed and allowed to rest on warm plates for five minutes while being drizzled with the pan juices, lemon, and olive oil, and scattered with finely-sliced baby leeks from Rogowski Farm and chopped thyme leaves from Manhattan Fruit Exchange
• red and orange carrots from Monkshood Nursery and Gardens, rolled in olive oil, salt, and pepper, roasted at 400º for about half an hour, removed from the oven and sprinkled with chopped parsley from Eataly
• radicchio from S.&S.O. Produce Farms, quartered lengthwise, placed in an unglazed ceramic oven pan, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper, roasted at 400º for about 15 minutes, turning once, finished with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, scattered with shavings of Parmesan cheese from Buon Italia
• the wine was an Italian red, Colpasso Nero d’Avola Terre Siciliane 2012

Last night was quick and easy.  I simply lit the oven to heat the remaining spaghetto with tuna sauce in cazuelas, then sprinkled some fresh parsley on top.

But before putting the bowls in the Magic Chef I assembled a fresh beforepasta.  I had more than enough late-season radicchio from the Union Square Greenmarket to (probably) use as a side dish for tonight’s dinner, and I also try to keep some form of salume in the refrigerator for emergencies.  With that, together with a few flourishes, my first course was quickly lined up.

• radicchio from S.&S.O. Produce Farms, washed and torn, tossed in a bowl with a few sultanas, ‘spring garlic’ from Rogowski Farm, parsley from Eataly, good olive oil, a small amount of white balsamic vinegar , salt, and pepper; served with Colameco’s uncured Calabrian salame (only one ounce on each plate!) from Eataly, drizzled with the same good olive oil; and slices of a fresh Trucio, from Sullivan Street Bakery, which had been purchased on our way home from a couple Chelsea galleries, and Postcards From the Edge, at Luhring Augustine Gallery only two hours earlier
• the wine was a red Italian, Filari de Sant’Antonī Negroamaro Rosso Salento 2012

Memory and my own documentation suggests that last night’s meal appears to be only my second exposure to Tilefish, in my kitchen, or possibly anywhere else, and I can’t understand why this delicious fish has been such a stranger.

I don’t think the species is very well known here, and it may have a narrow harvest window, but I recommend the fish for its flavor above all else, and for the fact that it remains a very good bargain.  Tilefish has a mild, sweet flavor, apparently shaped by what it largely feeds upon at the bottom of the Continental Shelf, and that includes crab, shrimp, and snail.

The fact that Tilefish catches, off Long Island at least, seem to get high marks for sustainability is an additional encouragement, and the fish that we bring home all comes from small boats, not factories.

I am assuming that the Golden Tilefish, or Lopholatilus chamaelonticeps, pictured below, is the species whose fillets I purchased at the Greenmarket on Friday:

• two leeks from Lucky Dog Organic, sliced, and some thick, country-style bacon from Millport Dairy, chopped both tossed with olive oil, spread in an oven pan, roasted at 425º for 10 minutes, after which a tablespoon of thyme leaves and 1/4 cup of white wine were added, the pan returned to the oven for 20 minutes more, before two seasoned Tilefish fillets from Pura Vida were placed in it, brushed with olive oil, and all once again placed in the oven until the fish was done, removed and garnished with more thyme
• parsnips from Lucky Dog Organic, scrubbed and cut into 1/2″ slices, tossed with olive oil and salt, a few unpeeled cloves of garlic, also from Lucky Dog Organic, spread in a single layer on an unglazed ceramic oven pan, dotted with butter (yeah, that process was a little dainty), roasted at 425º, seasoned with a little more salt and pepper, sprinkled with parsley from Eataly
• upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, splayed
• the wine was a French white, a Sancerre, Somme Doré 2013
• the music was Mahler’s 7th, Solti, Chicago

 

[second image from Mid-Atlantic Fishery Management Council]

This simple meal became a standard in our kitchen from the day I first tried it.  It follows a classic and delicious Mark Bittman recipe which can be put together entirely with ingredients normally always on hand, meaning it’s perfect for those times when the cook has not had a chance to get to a market of any kind.  Bittman describes the parsley ‘garnish’ as optional, and so the dish maintains my boast, but I can’t imagine not including what is the most common herb in the kitchen, if at all possible.

• spaghetto with a tuna sauce of canned San Marzano tomatoes, chopped, chopped onion from Hoeffner Farms, crushed dried red pepperonini, salted capers which were rinsed and drained, black pepper, good olive-oil-packed Italian tuna, and parsley from Eataly, chopped, prepared after a recipe of Mark Bittman
• the wine was an Italian red, Geggiano Pontignano Chianti Classico 2010

The storm which hit the eastern end of Long Island much more dramatically than had in New York City kept my normal source of fresh fish away from the Greenmarket today, so I headed for the Lobster Place, where I was a little overwhelmed by the choices I had.  I rarely find Striped Bass in Union Square, so I decided to splurge a bit, even if the fillet which I pointed to this afternoon weighed a little more than I really needed for the two of us.

I’m now reminded once again why this fish is so prized.  It’s the taste, the texture, and the amenability to any number of herbal and vegetable treatments and accompaniments (okay, there’s also the lack of bones).   But I didn’t always appreciate that.  Years ago, when this fish had supplied the conclusive argument which destroyed New York City’s Westway project. I think that I had  thought the ‘Stripers’ cause was advanced mostly in the service of sport fishermen, even though (or perhaps because) I was then living in Rhode Island, where Striped Bass were known as both game fish and available, both whole and in fillets, in the fish markets I occasionally patronized on the docks in both Newport and Providence (I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t yet become really comfortable with cooking fish).

• La Ratte fingerling potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved, tossed with olive oil, rosemary from Eataly, salt, pepper, and whole garlic cloves from Lucky Dog Organic, spread in an enameled cast iron pan and cooked at 400º until tender and browned, removed from the oven and the vegetable, garlic and herb pushed aside in the pan, allowing room in the center for the fish, and halved Backyard Farms cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods placed on the top of the potatoes
• Striped Bass fillet (just under one pound, for the two of us) from Lobster Place, scored with several very shallow slashes on the skin side, to prevent curling, placed in a ceramic pan skin side down, scattered with rosemary leaves (alternatively almost any fresh herb), salt, pepper, some homemade dry bread crumbs, and a drizzle of olive oil, the pan placed in a 425º oven for about 10 or 12 minutes, after which it was removed, and an organic lemon from Whole Foods was squeezed over the top
• small Brussels sprouts from from John D. Maderna Farms, tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, roasted in a 400º oven for twenty minutes or so, chopped spring garlic from Rogowski Farm added during the last minutes, removed from the oven and drizzled with a little bit of lemon juice
• the wine was a Spanish white, CVNE Cune Monopole Rioja Blanco 2013

This meal was successful way beyond our expectations.  We were enjoying ourselves with another of Target Margin Theater’s Gertrud Stein ‘lab programs’ in Bushwick until some time after 9, so it was almost 10 o’clock by the time I could begin to assemble what I had originally thought would be no more than a decent ‘square meal’ to reward our wait for dinner (the alternative, had we dallied on Starr Street even a little longer, would have been to call in a good pizza (and not one from my own oven).

The ingredients were prime, the recipes were familiar and among my favorites, especially that for the pork, and I was paying attention to what I was doing, even with the distraction of Mozart, but the dinner was definitely still more delicious than either of us had expected (this time I mean, really good ).  I’m sure it was largely because all of the ingredients were entirely Union Square-Greenmarket fresh and local (except of course for the salt, pepper, lemon, and olive oil).

And, yes, it was also pretty pretty to look at.

• two pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt, and pepper, seared in a very hot, heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half a lemon squeezed over them, then left in the pan with them while they were roasting in a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again), finished with the pan juices, in which a sprinkling of  the last bit of fresh sorrel from Rogowski Farm, sliced thinly, had been introduced and stirred
• orange and red carrots (four of each) from Monkshood Nursery and Gardens and two leeks from Lucky Dog Organic, both halved, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and roasted in a ceramic pan for about half an hour at 400º (the leeks added near the end)
• collard greens (the last of the season), also from Rogowski Farm, cut as a rough chiffonade, then braised in a heavy pot in which crushed garlic from Lucky Dog Organic had been allowed to sweat with some heated olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian white, le Salse Verdicchio di Matelica 2013
• the music was Mozart’s ‘Magic Flute’, in a terrific performance by Renée Jacobs and the Berlin Akademie für Alte Musik

I got a bit carried away last night with a recipe I had enjoyed twice before in more simple forms.  The recipe that had started as ‘baked eggs with mushrooms, and Gruyère’ on New Years Day was delicious, and the slightly more elaborate, ‘baked eggs with mushrooms, Gruyère, scallions, and tomato’ with the addition of two eggs and some tomato, was different, but probably equally good.  Last night I may have gone a bit too far, with ‘baked eggs with mushrooms, leeks, tomato, and cress, or maybe I just lost my balance, but the dish didn’t quite shine, and not only because the egg yolks ended up cooked through rather than just a little runny.

I think I had eventually missed the minimal point of the original, sensible recipe, and made it a bit top heavy, but the dish did make a reasonable, and colorful, picture.  That may be the only excuse for this post.

• Shiitake mushrooms from John D. Maderna Farms, sautéed for a few minutes over medium high heat before the addition of garlic from Migliorelli Farm, minced, thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, chopped, both heated for a minute or two and placed in a buttered ceramic baking dish, replaced in the pan by one leek from Lucky Dog Organic, sliced thinly and sautéed before also being placed in the baking dish, after which six eggs from Millport Dairy were cracked open on top, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with shredded cheese (Swiss Le Gruyère from Trader Joe’s), and dotted with halved ‘Cocktail Tomatoes’ from Maine, purchased at Whole Foods, the entire surface drizzled with a bit of heavy cream, and the dish baked in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the whites were set and the yolks were (ideally) still barely runny, placed on plates and tossed with upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a Poruguese red, Periquita Original 2011 Jose Maria de Fonseca Setúbal

I’ve decided that soups are photogenic.

But here’s the background to this soup.

It wasn’t the recipe for Sauerkraut I had learned from Mimi Sheraton (and used for years), although I had worked with this new one before and been pleased by its speed, its simplicity – and its taste.  This time, when I prepared it on Thursday, I had to add enough water to bury two good-sized smoked pig knuckles in the Kraut.  I ended up with nearly a quart of extra, very aromatic juices which I didn’t need on the plates.  I poured it into a container and placed that in the refrigerator, thinking it might make a good winter soup base for a lunch in the next few days.

Today that’s exactly what it did – what I did.

Our lunches are really casual.   Most of the time (almost always) I don’t actually cook anything, and by the time either of us is hungry, there’s very little time for a fuss in any event.  I totally improvised this meal, and I worked fast.  The idea was to use some of the things, leftovers large and small, which I already had available, and which might not have found a purpose otherwise.

I started with the Sauerkraut-without-the-Sauerkraut, and added something over a cup of good beef broth.  I added the outside leaves of a white cabbage from Foragers, which I had boiled for three minutes or so, drained and cut as a chiffonade.  In addition, I added some small pieces of celery, from Migliorelli Farm, cut up and briefly sautéed; the heal of a spicy sopressata, almost minced, which had been leftover in the preparation of a frittata a few days ago; some rich, almost syrupy tomato juices left from a can of ‘Muti’ Baby Roma tomatoes, whose fruit had been used in a fennel-tomato compote nine days ago;  and, once in the bowls, I garnished the soup with the parsley, now chopped, which I had washed and dried for an entrée of whole fresh trout which had to be aborted two days after that dinner.

The soup was delicious; it was also surprisingly spicy.  The resulting rich color was a surprise.  I think the image above manages to describe the taste visually, if anything could.  I wish I could give it a name, but I’m unlikely ever to recreate it.

I served it with crusty, very delicious slices of what I believe was a Bien Cuit Miche, (which would be a blend of fermented rye and whole wheat flours), purchased today at Foragers Market.

This meal demonstrated the amazing impact fresh herbs can make on three very different food groups, as well as the blessings of a good larder regularly restocked.   Working out the larder part is pretty easy when the kitchen is used regularly.

The herb part is just as easy, but, again, that assumes frequent meals at home.  The Pacific salmon had been frozen before it arrived at Whole Foods, the Italian-grown beans arrived in my kitchen already cooked and sealed in a jar (and in fact they had been opened and half used two weeks earlier), and the sweet potatoes had been dug out of the ground in Kinderhook some time last year.  None of the three had been harvested the day before, and none would have come fully into its own without the help of a fresh herb.

• wild Coho salmon fillet from Whole Foods, roasted in butter in a shallow enameled cast-iron pan (for one pound of salmon, use two tablespoons of butter), seasoned, then finished with a little shredded sorrel (yes, after three meals from the same bunch, and I still have some left!) from Rogowski Farm
• tiny cooked Italian beans (‘Fagiolina del Trasimeno’) from Eataly, warmed with olive oil in which thinly-sliced garlic from Migliorelli Farm had been heated until it began to brown, along with whole sage leaves from Eataly
• Japanese sweet potatoes from Samascott Orchards tossed with olive oil, rosemary leaves, salt, and pepper, placed in an unglazed ceramic pan with some whole, unpeeled garlic, also from Samascott Orchards, and roasted at 400º for about half an hour
• the wine was an Austrian red, Fritsch Zweigelt vom Donaulöss 2011

Since I had planned ahead by defrosting four links of Kielbasa overnight, and as we were blessed with Sauerkraut leftover from the Schweinshaxen dinner a few days ago, there wasn’t much question about what was going to put on the table tonight when we returned from Ryder Ripps’ opening at Postmasters Gallery.

The sausage came from the Amish people who sell their exceptionally high-quality meat, cheese, eggs, and picked vegetables in the Union Square Greenmarket.  By the way , most of their excellent produce reflects the community’s origins in seventeenth and eighteenth-century Germany, so I have no idea how they ended up with the delicious chorizo we’ve enjoyed so often, but that Spanish sausage has become our favorite.  Now if I could only persuade them to make Morcilla, or at least Blutwurst.

• Kielbasa links from Millport Dairy, grilled on a ribbed enameled pan before being buried in a pot in which leftover sauerkraut was being heated, very aromatic from being cooked with vegetables and spices, and served with German mustard
• German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, boiled, drained, dried, stirred with butter and tossed with the last, tiniest bit of Savoy cabbage from Hoeffner Farms, shredded, and parsley from Eataly, chopped
• the bottled Munich beer was Spaten Münchner Hell