..and marjoram.

[note; the picture doesn’t include any of the green herb mentioned in the description below; until we’d begun to eat, I hadn’t remembered to add it, but I then quickly and – mostly – corrected the error]

It could have been a wintry meal, mostly because of the cabbage part, that it didn’t have any problem showing off in August. It also felt a little Alpine, and the excellent Germanic wine Barry chose to accompany it with turned out to be an inspired choice. 

We awaited the meal with some breadsticks and a Portuguese (Douro/Duriense) white wine, glasses from a bottle of Quevedo Family Alvarinho 2018, from Naked Wines

• two tablespoons of olive oil; 2 large chopped cloves of still-juicy-in-August, ‘Nootka Rose’ garlic from Jayne, of TransGenerational Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, 3 salted Sicilian anchovies, thoroughly rinsed and filleted, from Buon Italia in Chelsea Market; 2 very small quite hot Calabrian ‘diavoletti rossi‘ peppers, also from Buon Italia, and 2 medium bay leaves, dry, but fresh when purchased, from Westside Market, heated together inside an antique copper pot above a medium flame until the garlic had colored, then 8 ounces of shredded green ‘personal size” cabbage from Campo Rosso Farm added and cooked, with the heat raised to high, with the addition of a quarter cup of the same Douro white we were enjoying while I cooked, stirring occasionally, until the cabbage was tender (only a few minutes), a pinch or so of smoked dried chipotle peppers from from Eckerton Hill Farm added, the sauce then tossed with 8 ounces of a Hudson Valley pasta, Sfoglini’s whole grain reginetti (organic stone milled hard red flour from the Hudson Valley, organic durum semolina, water) that had just been cooked al dente, and stirred over a high flame with a cup of reserved pasta water until the liquid had emulsified, some freshly ground black pepper then added, a teaspoon of chopped marjoram from Quarton Farm mixed in, and the mix arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, with more marjoram sprinkled on top
• the wine was a German (Franken/Main) white, Weingut May Silvaner Trocken Gutswein 2016, from Copake Wine Works 
• the music was Georg Philipp Telemann’s 1726 opera, ‘Orpheus’, René Jacobs conducting the Academy for Ancient Music Berlin and the Berlin RIAS Chamber Chorus; the album liner notes describe the work as “..a successful synthesis of national operatic forms from Italy, France and Germany.” (another good pairing with the entrée)

I’ll be honest. I really stumbled in preparing this meal. It was basically pretty simple in conception, and it should have been simple to execute. It didn’t happen that way, but I managed to recover from several stupid slips, and while it looks a little messy in the picture, it tasted great, and the music was super!

I had all the time in the world to assemble things before actually starting, and that’s exactly what I did, or at least what I thought I had done. Maybe I was too relaxed, because when it came time to do the actual cooking it seemed like I had forgotten how to do anything. Just before preparing the porgy I made the mistake of putting the garlic scapes that were to precede it in its pan into the pot in which the broccolini was to be sautéed, so, having totally forgotten to prepare some garlic for the vegetable, there was now nothing for the fish. A minute later I realized I hadn’t seasoned the fillets, and moments after that I noticed that the hot plate on which I was going to heat up the small heirloom tomatoes hadn’t gotten, well, hot.

Suddenly I was really busy, in fact I almost panicked. I found myself almost simultaneously peeling and chopping some shallots, seasoning the fish – on both sides, and tracing the problem with the hot plate wiring. In the process I ended up losing more or less 2 minutes of the total of only 5 that should have been enough to cook the porgy, but by now I was guessing about when the fish would be ready (it ended done perfectly, although even with the cosmetic dill garnish, as I said, it looks pretty sloppy on the plate, which might at least be partly a function of the delicate size of the fillets).  All this while I also had to keep some focus, and my eye, on the 2 vegetables.

But I made it.

• [the description related here is more the ideal than the reality of the actual process last night] six small (2-ounces+) Porgy fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-seared, along with 3 small thinly-sliced Japanese shallots from Norwich Meadows Farm, over medium heat inside an ancient 13″-round shallow antique copper pan in a bit of butter and a little olive oil (a total amount of fat of barely 2 tablespoons), the fish basted with the contents of the pan more or less continually for about 2 minutes, using a small brush, then carefully turned over, and the heat reduced to low, a cover placed on the pan (I used a new, tempered-glass universal lid that almost fit snugly between its handles), the filets cooked for about about another 2 minutes before the cover was removed and a mix of 2 or 3 tablespoons of 3 fresh herbs thrown in (this time I used lovage from S. & S.O. Produce Farms, marjoram from Quarton Farm, and spearmint from Stokes Farm) after which the basting was continued for about minute, or until the fish was cooked through, and the fillets arranged on 2 plates with their pan juices and shallot fragments, finished with the juice of one small organic Whole Foods Market Mexican lemon poured over the top, and scissored dill flowers scattered over everything
• three halved small heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm warmed in a little olive oil inside a small copper skillet, seasoned with salt and pepper
• at least a couple handfuls of broccolini (a modern hybrid cross between broccoli and Gai Lan, aka Chinese broccoli) from Quarton Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, washed and drained in fresh cold water, chopped very roughly, sautéed/wilted over a low flame by being gradually added to a large enameled cast iron pot in which cut pieces of 4 garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm had first been softened in some olive oil over a moderate flame
• the wine, ordered directly from the winery, was an Oregon (Williamette Valley) white, Erath Oregon Pinot Gris 2016
• the music was a 1971 recording of Michael Gielen conducting the Southwest German Radio Symphony Orchestra in an absolutely wonderful performance of Mahler’s 6th Symphony, and then we continued the evening listening to other Gielen/Mahler recordings

I’d never heard of ciauscolo a month ago, but if I had heard the seductive description, ‘soft, spreadable salami’, I would have been very surprised if it did not exist somewhere.

I’m now here to say that it does, that it apparently has existed for a very long time, mostly in Umbria and the neighboring Marche, and I can now confirm that it’s as succulent and seductive as the description suggests.

Last night I served it as a very meaty appetizer for a very un-meaty pasta. I don’t know why I didn’t just spread the sausage on the bread before serving it, instead of setting it up in the middle of the plates, unless I was thrown off by my late decision to include some fresh baby arugula on the side. Next time I’ll be prepared.

• four ounces of an Umbrian-style Ciauscolo spreadable salami from southern Vermont farmers Rico and Jill of Walnut Hill Farm (newly arrived at the Union Square Greenmarket this summer), arranged on 2 plates
• handfuls of baby arugula (rucola) from Phillips Farms, dressed with Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ olive oil (Koroneiki varietal), from Hania, Crete, purchased at Chelsea Whole Foods Market
• slices of rich ‘Seedy Grains’ bread from Lost Bread Co. (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt)

The main course was a refreshing followup to the salumi, dominated by the flavors of cucumber and dill.

• two garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into one inch lengths, heated over moderate heat in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until almost softened, one thinly sliced narrow stalk of very green celery from Norwich Meadow Farm added near the end, the heat increased and one conventional green cucumber from Stokes Farm and 2 luscious yellow cucumbers from Alewife Farm, all sliced roughly half an inch thick, added and sautéed until beginning to brown or carbonize on their edges, followed by one thinly sliced very small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and one fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm (which seemed to have retained some of the heat of its habañero ancestors), which were stirred until both were softened, then 9 ounces of a very good Campania pasta, cooked al dente (Afeltra 100% Grano Italiano Biologico Pasta di Grannano IG.P. Artigianale rigatone from Eataly Flatiron) tossed into the sauce pot with almost a cup of retained pasta water, everything stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, the mix arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, and a generous amount of scissored dill flowers from Willow Wisp Farm scattered on top

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Napa/Santa Lucia Highlands) rosé, Derek Rohlffs Santa Lucia Highlands Rose 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout was an ECM album of string quartets by Thomas Adès, Per Nørgård, and Hans Abrahamsen, performed by the Danish String Quartet

Last night I was set on serving the water buffalo mozzarella we had as an appetizer, especially since I had several possibilities for a tomato role, but I had forgotten I didn’t have basil of any kind.

I was sure neither the mozzarella nor the tomato would object to my fiddling with the classic insalata caprese formula, and there are probably an unlimited number of alternatives to the classic ocimum basilicum part, but I went with the closest thing I had to the Italian original: fresh mint leaves, mostly because basil and mint are both in the aromatic lamiaceae family. The mint can get overpowering, but if it does, it can then just be set aside.

It really worked, and I was very happy that the plate looked as good as it tasted.

Except for the olive oil and the wine, it was all about the Union Square Greenmarket.

• the water buffalo mozzarella was from Riverine Ranch, the single large heirloom tomato was from Norwich Meadows Farm, the spearmint was from Stokes Farm, the olive oil was Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Chelsea Whole Foods Market
• slices of ‘table bread’ from Lost Bread Company
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejano/Alentejo) white, Herdade Do Esporao Verdelho V 2017, from the Esporão Estate, 100% Verdelho, from Garnet Wines

While thinking about breakfast this morning I remembered I had some beefsteak tomatoes that I really shouldn’t be hanging onto any longer (I’d had them on the north windowsill for 2 weeks, but still looked and tasted fine when I tested one). The problem was that I didn’t want to turn on the oven when the temperature inside the kitchen was finally so reasonable, although it was a devise called for by my usual go-to eggs and tomato routine. I resolved that issue by preparing all but the toast inside a single large cast iron pan on top of the range.

• four slices of thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm’s pastured pigs, fried over low heat inside a large enameled cast iron skillet, turning occasionally, removed while they were still juicy, before they had become crisp, set aside on paper toweling to drain, then cutting each into 3 sections after they had cooled, the heat under the pan increased to medium-high, and 2 very ripe beefsteak tomatoes from from Jersey Farm Produce in our very local 23rd Street Chelsea Down to Earth Farmers Market, each cut into 6 slices, added and cooked until they had begun to brown on the edges, removed and placed in a shallow bowl, seasoned with local sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, sprinkled with chopped fresh epazote from TransGenerational Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, the cooking ended by cracking 6 fresh eggs, from free-range chickens, also from Millport Dairy Farm, into the same skillet, frying them until their whites had barely set, seasoning them with salt, pepper, and a pinch of a pinch or so of some of the (now powdered) remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper that had been purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm in 2017, and the now-fried eggs added to an assemblage, on 2 plates, going from bottom to top: of 6 small just-toasted thick slices of Lost Bread Company’s ‘Seedy Grains’ bread (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt), the bacon pieces, the tomato slices, and the eggs, which were now dusted with some scissored fresh dill blossoms from Willow Wisp Farm
• the music was the allbum, ‘Messiaen: Meditations sur le Mystere de la Sainte Trinite”, with organist Tom Winpenny 

One of the great boons for a cook who’s at it regularly is the ability to use leftover ingredients saved from earlier meals. Last night it was a small amount of some juices that had started out inside very ripe heirloom tomatoes whose flesh had been a part of this meal, 4 days earlier than the one in which they ended up last night. The addition had a great effect, far more wonderful than I could have imagined possible.

Another bonus is the proximity of a food source like the Union Square Greenmarket, where suppliers delight in coming in with – and over and over coming up with – local items to please professional chefs, serious amateurs, and the many casual New York cooks who are also devoted to its bounties; as in, voila, yesterday’s soft shelled crabs!

four soft-shell blue crabs (12 ounces) from Pura Vida Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, cleaned as described in Marylander Stacey Williamson’s short video, rinsed in running water and dried very thoroughly (so they don’t ‘steam’ and so to encourage crispness, since I had decided not to use a batter of any kind), brought to room temperature, sautéed on both sides (bottom first, but later served with the bottom down) over a medium-high flame in a quarter inch of olive oil inside a 13-inch nicely-seasoned cast iron pan (for maybe about 3 minutes altogether?) until their texture goes from soft to taut, when they are ready to be removed and arranged on the 2 plates, sprinkled with local sea salt and some freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with juice of a Mexican organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, followed by a couple tablespoons of sweet tomato juices that had been in the refrigerator since they had escaped the heirlooms they had arrived with earlier in the week, finished with a garnish on the side of organic baby mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

10 ounces of very ripe (while waiting for this evening they had become shriveled, but none had burst) Edox cherry tomatoes from TransGenerational Farm, washed, dried, heated for a minute in a little olive oil inside a small tin-lined copper skillet, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with fresh chopped epazote, also from TransGenerational Farm

seven ounces of hand-picked haricots verts from Samascott Orchards in Kinderhook, NY, left whole, blanched until barely tender, drained, and dried in the same stainless steel pot in which they had cooked, over low-medium heat, shaking, then set aside in a bowl until after the crabs had begun sautéing, at which time they were reheated in a little oil inside a heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, finished with salt and black pepper, and mixed with dill flowers from Willow Wisp Farm

the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) rosé, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines

the music was the album, ‘Martin Boykan: Rites of Passage’, from Bridge Records

There was a dessert [I’ve just learned that the word, ‘dessert’ is from the Old French desservir, (‘to clear a table’, or, literally ‘to un-serve’), and originated during the Middle Ages]. This one might be described as an upside-down blackberry cobbler which included a bit of very un-medieval gelato. But, yes, we did clear the table first..

• halved slice of almond cardamon pound cake from Bread Alone, Talenti Madagascar Vanilla Gelato from Chelsea While Foods Market, blackberries from Toigo Orchard, topped with a self sauce of mashed berries combined with a drop or two of Toschi Orzata Orgeat syrup

 

[I had forgotten to take a picture of the crabs yesterday, so those in the bucket seen above do not include any of our dinner partners; the image is instead one I snapped at the Pura Vida counter on August 2]

Although I’ve worked with this flounder recipe once before, this time it didn’t look or taste anything like that of last December.

Last night I almost burnt the bed on which the fish was to lie inside the oven. If knowing your way around mistakes is a sign of a mature cook, I may now have stepped out of my apprenticeship.

My recovery involved tossing some more wine and a splash of water into the hot cooking pan before adding the flounder to the scary brown stuff inside; we were both very lucky that the thin onion and lemon slices hadn’t quite reached the carbon point.

The plate was delicious, in a way of course that neither of us could have anticipated.

• one thinly-sliced organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market and one thinly-sliced 4 ounce fresh red onion from Jersey Farm Produce arranged at the bottom of a 9-by-13-inch enameled cast iron baking pan, dotted with 2 tablespoons of butter, 1/2 of  cup of white wine and a few tablespoons of cold water added,  sprinkled with 1 teaspoon of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm, seasoned with local sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, baked inside a 400º oven until the onions are soft and translucent, about 40 minutes [my near-burnt pan might have been the consequence of my having sliced everything too thinly, and/or not including  enough liquid], the pan removed and two flounder fillets (7 ounces each) from American Seafood Company arranged on top, seasoned with salt and pepper, a few sprigs of thyme laid on top, and the fish basted with the liquid on the bottom, the flounder baked until just opaque and cooked through, maybe 15 minutes, and arranged on the plates with the lemon and onion

• eight small Costata Romanesco zucchini from Windfall Farms, sliced lengthwise into pieces about a quarter of an inch thick, dried, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, 2 finely-chopped garlic cloves from Stokes Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, then pan grilled, turning 2 or 3 times, on top of a seasoned 2-burner ribbed cast iron plate, arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with torn spearmint from Stokes Farm and more olive oil, allowed to rest for a few minutes while the fish was prepared (the squash tastes wonderful at any temperature)
• slices of a great table bread, introduced to avoid letting the sauces excape, Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Company ‘table bread’, whose productions we are fortunate to be able to buy in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) white, Oregon Pinot Blanc 2016, ordered directly from Erath
• the music was the album, ‘Jacob Druckman: Lamia’, Gil Rose conducting the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, with Lucy Shelton

It was delicious. but we we both got a pepper scare with our initial bites: The little yellow capsicum had been described as sweet and juicy (“citrusy sweet’, the sign said), and I neither heard nor saw any mention of heat, so when I was looking around for something to add to a good artisanal pasta last night I zeroed in on these little ones.

For one reason or another, the capsaicinoids soon became much less of a problem than our first taste had suggested they would be. Introducing some good bread to the table relieved the pressure initially, and we were able to sit back and enjoy the dish – and taste a good wine.

• half a dozen garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced into one-inch sections, heated over a moderate flame in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot before adding 8 or 9 sliced ‘Bon Bon’ peppers from Campo Rosso Farm, sautéeing them until they had softened and begun to caramelize, adding one thinly sliced fresh habanada pepper near the end of that time, also from Campo Rosso Farm, and then stirring in the green section of a scallion stem from Alex’s Tomato Farm in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, and tossing in 9 ounces of very good Campania pasta, cooked al dente (Afeltra 100% Grano Italiano Biologico Pasta di Grannano IG.P. Artigianale rigatone from Eataly Flatiron) with almost a cup of pasta water, the mix stirred over a high flame until the liquid had emulsified, one chopped yellow heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm and some chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm mixed in, the dish arranged inside shallow bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges, and more epazote sprinkled on top
• slices of an extraordinarily fine loaf of bread, ‘Seedy Grains’ (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt) from Lost Bread Company
• the wine was a California (grapes from both Suisun Valley and Sonoma) rosé, Evangelos Bagias Three Graces Rosé of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was Charpentier’s 1688 tragédie en musique, ‘David et Jonathas’, William Christie conducting the Choir and Orchestra of Les Arts Florissants

I’m leading with an image of the main course, even though it had been preceded by an appetizer, only because the image of the former is a little splashier.

That almost didn’t happen however, because the heirloom tomatoes that account for much of the color on the plate in the picture above had already been so ripe when I bought them that afternoon that they didn’t make the short trip home intact. I spite of my best security efforts, they had apparently felt ‘crushed’ (so to speak) inside their plastic bag, and expelled their juices before I arrive home. I made a recovery that evening however, because, while they didn’t have their original integrity, they were delicious.

• one 14-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company in the Union Square greenmarket, washed, rinsed, and quartered (to arrive at pieces of equal size and thickness for 2 diners), placed inside a platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the cod was completely covered, then set aside while a bed was prepared for them composed of 12 ounces of Adirondack red potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm sliced to a thickness of roughly 1/4″ and tossed into a bowl with olive oil, salt, black pepper, and a pinch of a dried smoked serrano pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, the potatoes arranged overlapping inside a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan, cooked for 25 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced but not fully cooked, then, the cod having already been thoroughly immersed in many fresh changes of water to bring down the saltiness, the pieces were drained, dried, and placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with black pepper, blanketed with thin slices (or more like pieces) of one red and one green heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, the tomatoes seasoned lightly with salt and pepper, and the pan returned to the oven for about 8 or 9 minutes (the exact time depends on the thickness of the fillets), when the cod was removed with the help of 2 spatulas, along with as much of the tomatoes and potatoes as can be brought along with each piece, and everything arranged on the plates as intact as possible
• slices of two very small stalks of celery from Norwich Meadow Farm, together with thicker slices of one green cucumber from Stokes Farm and 3 yellow cucumbers from Alewife Farm, all sautéed in olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until tender, browned, and slightly carbonized, seasoned with salt and black pepper, sprinkled with some of the celery leaves, plus some chopped dill from Lucky Dog Organic Farm

The appetizer had come about because I had some a little sheep milk feta remaining from the night before, and while at the Greenmarket on Monday I was looking around for ideas about how to use it while I when I spotted some shishito peppers.

• a few ounces (10 count) of shishito peppers from Alewife Farm sautéed over medium-high heat in a little olive oil inside a heavy seasoned cast iron pan for 4 to 5 minutes, or until blistered, tossing only occasionally, sprinkled with some local P.E. & D.D. Seafood sea salt and combined gently with a scant 2 ounces of cubed New York Hidden Springs Farm sheep milk feta from Eataly Flatiron, 8 or so pitted and halved Kalamata olives, half a tablespoon of chopped fresh thyme leaves from Stokes Farm, and about a fourth of a cup of olive oil, allowed to marinate at room temperature for at least 30 to 60 minutes before serving
• slices of a loaf of ‘Seedy Grains’ bread (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt) from Lost Bread Company

 

• the wine throughout was a Portuguese (Duriense/Douro – Porto) white, Quinta Do Crasto Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines 
• the music throughout was Ferdinando Bertoni’s 1776 opera, ‘Orfeo ed Euridice’, in a performance with Roberto Zarpellon conducting the Lorenzo Da Ponte Ensemble and the Ferrara Coro Accademia Di Santo Spirito

It was pasta, not a salad, although it has some of the aspects of a ‘pasta salad’, including the fact that the pasta was the only element that was actually cooked.

• a couple handfuls of datterini tomatoes, small, sweet, date-shaped (hence the name), from Campo Rosso Farm, halved, plus one not-large yellow heirloom tomato from Oak Grove Plantation, mixed inside a bowl with a combination of several finely chopped garlic cloves from Stokes Farm, 2 ounces of Kalamata olives, pitted and halved, half an ounce of rinsed salted capers, and 3 salted anchovies (rinsed and filleted), sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper, all of which had already been crushed together inside a mortar and pestle, a few tablespoons of pasta cooking water added, and then a generous amount of chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm, then everything tossed with 9 ounces of Afeltra spaghetti chitarra from Eataly Flatiron cooked al dente and drained, the mix arranged in shallow bowls and topped with some excellent crumbled local Hidden Springs Creamery sheep milk feta from Eataly Flatiron, a little olive oil poured around the edges, garnished with micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro/Duriense) white, Quevedo Family Alvarinho 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was Gluck’s 1779 opera for the French stage, ‘Iphigénie en Tauride’, Marc Minkowski conducting Les Musiciens du Louvre and Chorus of Les Musiciens du Louvre