I had some eggs which I did not want to forget to use, so I decided I’d make a frittata for dinner.  We love frittatas. We are also big fans of most any vegetable, not least romanesca broccoli, as I’ve shown recently.   The next day in the Greenmarket I spotted a beautiful head of this art deco treasure which appeared to be exactly the right size for the purpose.

• one large thinly-sliced garlic clove from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in heated olive oil in a seasoned 10″ cast iron pan for about 30 seconds, small flowerettes of romanesca broccoli from Hoeffner Farms, and chopped fresh hot red pepper from Oak Grove Plantation added and cooked for another minute, some of the torn green pointed leaves which enclose the head introduced just before the end, seasoned with salt and pepper, 2 tablespoons of water added, a pyrex glass cover placed over the pan, its contents cooked over moderate heat until the vegetable was crisp-tender, removed from the pan and set aside to cool a little before it was stirred into a bowl in which 8 eggs from Millport Dairy which had been beaten and seasoned with salt and pepper, the contents of the bowl poured into the original pan, which had been returned to the burner where it had heated a tablespoon of oil, the eggs and romanesca cooked over moderately low heat until the edges had set, sprinkled with a half cup of grated parmesan cheese and transferred to a pre-heated 350º oven for about 12 minutes  [the dish can be served warm, but not hot, or at room temperature]
• the wine was an Italian (Veneto) sparkling, Di Maria Prosecco DOC Famiglia Botter
• the music was Carl Heinrich Graun’s opera, ‘Montezuma‘ 

 

While these are baby squid, perhaps they are not baby squid (which might be only 3 to 6 centimeters long, including their heads).  They are however small, tender, and very tasty. I serve this dish often; the size of the cephalopods varies according to local market availability, but they are always delicious, and always very easy to prepare.

The recipe is included in Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’ ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘.  The book is a treasure.

• three quarters of a pound of baby squid, bodies and tentacles, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, dried, quickly arranged in an enameled cast iron pan after its cooking surface had been brushed with olive oil and heated on top of the range until very hot, then sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia and one crushed dried pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, then a good squeeze of lemon juice and some olive oil drizzled over the top, and placed in a pre-heated 400º oven, roasted for four or five minutes
• one baby fennel bulb from Norwich Meadows Farm, rolled in a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, pan-grilled until tender and slightly carbonized, then tossed with chopped fennel fronds [note: since I forgot to add some finely-minced garlic this time, we missed out on the zing otherwise expected]
• redbor kale (or winterbor kale), finely-curled and a striking dark purple-red in color, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted with olive oil in which thinly-sliced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil [in the picture the kale is inside a low black non-vintage, and non-radioactive Fiestaware bowl]
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Fuori Strada Grillo 2014 (whose gorgeous soft packaging, incidentally, is safe for the water bottle holder on you bike)
• the music was the Calder Quartet playing the Thomas Adès string quartet, ‘Arcadiana’

I included parsley this time.

While it was just as delicious as when I served the dish without it, my sentiment is that I probably prefer the more minimal version of aglio olio e peperoncino, especially if the pasta is of really exceptional quality.

• This is Mark Bittman’s recipe, which is pretty much what I did myself, using one small red cayenne pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, two garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, more than a third of a cup of parsley from Stokes Farm, and 12 ounces of Afeltra Spaghettone, a slightly fatter spaghetti, made in southern Campania with 100% Puglian grain, bronze-extruded and air-dried) from Eataly
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2013
• the music was from the album, ‘Franz Anton Hofmeister: Complete Works for Viola‘, celebrating a composer and music publisher, also benefactor to and friend of Mozart, who is far more worthy than the modest fame he enjoys today would suggest

(in something of a statement about my at-least-intermittent compulsiveness, the various heirloom cherry tomatoes are already divided into two quite equal shares before the rest of the course has been finished; but they were pretty)

 

But it really wasn’t about the tomatoes, and in fact they were barely even an afterthought.  It was about the sea robin again.

I had prepared this excellent fish twice before, with super success, even if I haven’t yet come up with an alternative to the recipe I’ve used each time.  I now consider sea robin a lucky find and a great treat – and, surprisingly, still one of the best bargains on this side of the Atlantic.  At least so far they haven’t generally been taken seriously as candidates for the dining table, usually considered ‘rough fish’ or ‘trash fish’ by people seeking their prized neighbors, striped bass or flounder.   In France and elsewhere in Europe they and their relatives, whether called ‘gurnard’ or ‘rascasse’, are more respected.

I’m going to link to an attractive recipe on another site here, but it’s probably more for my own reference when than for any public enlightenment.

• eight quite small sea robin fillet, or ‘tails’, from Blue Moon Fish, rinsed, pat dry, then placed in a pan of sizzling olive oil and sautéed over medium-high heat for barely 2 minutes on each side, transferred to two plates, a little lemon squeezed on top, then small spoonfuls of an olive tapenade sauce spread over or between the fillets, which were then garnished with fresh Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil leaves from Whole Foods, torn
• the tapenade had been prepared with Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, a little garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, one rinsed chopped anchovy, also from Buon Italia, salted rinsed capers from Buon Italia, ground black pepper, olive oil, and a few sprigs of fresh thyme from Phillips Farm, chopped
• a handfull of small heirloom cherry and grape tomatoes from Berried Treasures, halved, then added to the plates, and seasoned with Maldon salt
• yellow flat pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, then reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm
• a simple salad of spicy wild arugula from Lani”s Farm, tossed with one thinly-sliced shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm, very good olive oil, Italian white vinegar, salt, and freshly-ground pepper
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Joel Gott Sauvignon Blanc 2014
• the music was Richard Zimdars performing 20th and 21st-century piano compositions by a number of composers, from his album, ‘Character Pieces from Four Continents‘

I had not realized, before I put it on the table, just how appropriate this dish would be for a day on which we had revisited the Donald Judd house.

To begin with, it’s probably the second most minimal recipe in my kitchen ‘kit’ (the first has got to be this spaghetti aglio olio e peperoncino). but beyond that, while the sections of pasta I always use start out as round tubes (a shape not much encountered in Judd’s work or his SoHo house, once they have been cooked they flatten almost completely, and equally seductive rectangles emerge.  Although it may be something of a stretch, I imagine the shape as relating to Judd’s kit.

Every Italian bachelor, full-time or temporary, is alleged to know how to whip up one meal by himself, the dish of spaghetti with a simple sauce of garlic, oil and peppers I mention above. Maybe this simple tomato sauce (which incidentally goes with virtually any pasta) should be in the repertoire of every single girl (or homo), Italian or otherwise, since the recipe requires a little more lead time than the aglio olio e peperoncino, requiring advance planning most bachelors might not be up to.

The story of this dish begins with my visits to a West Village barber shop, beginning in the mid-eighties.  But it wasn’t just any barber shop, as I learned over time.

Nick’s Hair Salon, which sadly no longer exists, was located at 5 Horatio St.  It opened in 1956, fronting on the north sided of an extremely tiny (about 100 square feet) Greenstreets triangle bounded by Horatio, West 4th Street, and 8th Avenue.  Once it had been ‘adopted’ and planted, I would often point out its rich greenery to visitors from less densely-populated realms, as “one of our parks”).

Nick Soccodato was a lovely, affable, and gentle man (with a great full head of hair).

He was a barber and had been a barber, he once told me, from the time he graduated from his first job, which he described as hanging around shops and sweeping up the hair on the floor (I don’t recall where he said that was, but it may have been the same location he eventually owned). Nick was also a dealer, a very special dealer. At some point in the history of his shop he began a second career, dealing in food, Italian food, specifically the vegetables and fruits associated with his family’s Italian bel paese, the Agro Nocerino , and most specifically, with the San Marzano tomato, which has been, and always will be, associated with the area.

I don’t know, but Nick and his Italian nephew, Savino Zuottolo, might have created the American market for San Marzano tomatoes almost on their own, in the back of the business that was later called, ‘Nick’s Hair Styling‘.

I had occasionally seen people come into the shop and walk out with packages, cans, and jars of Italian food, but I hadn’t thought much of it, probably marking it up as just another eccentricity of the owner and a staff not without such things.  But one day I found myself talking to Nick about his family’s homeland.  I told him how much I loved the Campania, on every level, and also told him that I loved cooking, generally using the simplest Italian dishes, and usually southern Italian, as my models.

For sharing my interest with him, I was rewarded with a tour of the barbershop’s back room, where cans, jars and packages of dry stuffs were stocked and displayed something like a much smaller version of the wonderful emporium, Buon Italia, in the Chelsea Market.  I already knew that the various sized cans of San Marzano tomatoes were the stars, but my eyes really lit up when I spotted the packages of short sections of huge tubes of dried pasta.  I thought their contents were absolutely, beautiful, and as perfectly minimal as a bunch of long spaghetti.

I had never seen anything like that pasta before, and I had to take some home.  I had the wits to ask Nic what kind of sauce it would traditionally be served with.  In his answer he described relaxed Sunday afternoon meals of a Paccheri with a simple tomato sauce using canned San Marzano plum tomatoes, and he promised he would ask his wife to copy her recipe and he would give it to me.

I, or rather, we, have dined like Barone ever since, regularly enjoying minimal feasts of paccheri served with Rose Soccodato’s simple San Marzano tomato sauce.  I didn’t remember her name when I transcribed the instructions to my file, so the recipe has always been known as ‘Mrs Nick’s Simple Tomato Sauce’ in our kitchen.

I can’t recommend it enough, but please do not to try it with anything other than San Marzano tomatoes, although, as with so many food source questions, even with ‘Denominazione d’Origine Protetta (DOP)’ printed on the can, exactly what that means may not be perfectly clear.

 

THE RECIPE

In an enameled cast iron pot or other non-reactive pan, large enough to hold the pasta after it’s been cooked, sauté 2 or 3 cloves in 4 to 5 tablespoons of olive oil, but only until the garlic is pungent.

Add one 28-ounce can of San Marzano tomatoes (already-chopped or whole, and ideally without basil), crush the tomatoes with a wooden spoon if they are whole,  sauté uncovered at high heat for 5 minutes, stirring a few times to reduce the liquid (yes, the juices will spatter a bit; I use a black apron and check the surrounding environment after this step).

Reduce the heat to very low, so the sauce is barely bubbling, add salt and freshly-ground pepper to taste, and simmer for a full 30 minutes.

Add a few whole leaves of fresh basil and continue simmering for 15  minutes more, again stirring occasionally.

Note: The sauce can be prepared a little ahead of time, so there’s no competition with the boiling pasta.

When the pasta has cooked, drain it and add it to the pan, or mix sauce and pasta in a warm bowl.

Serve, but do not add cheese.

 

• Setaro Paccheri from Buon Italia, served with the simple tomato sauce described above, using garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, one 28 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes, and two very large whole leaves from a package of Gotham Greens Rooftop basil purchased at Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscan) red, Morellino di Scansano ‘Mocali‘ 2013, a gift of friends
• the music was from defunensemble‘s double CD, ‘Define Function‘ https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/define-function/id1041575914

Day boat Long Island Cod. But there’s also this sad story about cod.

• a single cod fillet (just under one pound) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, halved, sautéed slowly for about four or five minutes (along with a one and a half tablespoons of minced garlic, from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had been begun to color in the oil), then flipped, and two thirds of a cup of chopped parsley from Stokes Farm added to the pan, stirred a bit and the fish sautéed for a few more minutes before it was removed to two plates, and the juices spread on top of the fillets
• four ‘Mountain Magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, quartered, added to the plates, and seasoned with Maldon salt
• yellow flat pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, then reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Champalou Vouvray 2014 (Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant)
• the music was more from the albums we were listening to yesterday, violinist/composer Todd Reynolds’ 2CD composite album, ‘Outerborough‘

I don’t really know what was inside the pasta other than shrimp, since Buon Italia didn’t include a list of the ingredients on the package, only on the shelf, and I didn’t realize that until I arrived home.  I’m going to try to remember to look the next time I’m there.

• prezzamolata di gamberi from Buon Italia, with a sauce of thinly-sliced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in olive oil, one tiny fresh red pepper from Roots to River Farm, finely-chopped, ‘Mountain Magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, pepper, and chopped Tarragon from Stokes Farm

 

The dessert was a small plate of fruit and cheese.

• two Bartlett pears from Locust Grove Fruit Farm, and thin slices of  ‘Barden Blue’ and ‘Rupert, from Consider Bardwell, both cow cheeses
• the wine was a California (Central Valley) white, JC van Staden Pinot Grigio 2014
• the music, streamed on Spotify, included a good part of violinist/composer Todd Reynolds’ 2CD composite album, ‘Outerborough‘, which features a number of genre-crossing composers

We hadn’t eaten meat in 9 days, although that was certainly no hardship for us.  After enjoying a small duck breast, from Long Island or Pennsylvania, on October 22, we had feasted, in succession on Long Island eel; ‘Hudson River prawns’; zucchini-filled pasta made 2 blocks away; penne with local Romanesco; and New York-local-waters-sourced mackerel, crab cakes, scallops and Grey Triggerfish.

We broke our inadvertent fast last night with some delicious pork chops from upstate NY.  The duck and pork recipes have been among my favorites for a long time, but I’ve added some new choice ones from among the meals which those two dinners bracketed.

• two 8-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farms, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper, seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of an organic lemon was squeezed over them and left in the pan, which was then placed in a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again), removed from the oven, sprinkled with chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm, and the pan juices spooned over the top
• eight ‘Mountain Magic’ tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, added to the pan in which the chops had roasted after they had been removed, stirred in the juices until warm, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil from Whole Foods
• Brussels sproutsfrom Van Houton Farms, tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, and roasted in a 400º oven for about half an hour
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Matthew Iaconis Napa Valley Chardonnay 2014 (in a Burgundy style, it’s Matt’s wine, and it comes from Naked Wines)
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 9, Claudio Abbado leading the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, only months before the conductor’s death

Nice picture.

This was also just about a perfect meal, for the cook and the diner, but to be totally honest, I have to quickly add that it gets that salute only by the standards and means of a modest kitchen and a quite-ordinary competence.

Also, it was the child of necessity, or more exactly, the happy outcome of a glitch in plans which is not unusual. On my trip to the Greenmarket on Friday I was disappointed once again in not finding John Dory fillets (they had sold out much earlier).  I’ve become accustomed to the need for adjusting to whatever might be available in the fish stalls (or those of any other venders) at the time I arrive, which is often well past the hour when the most [exciting?] fish may have been scooped up by its fans.

When I stopped by Pura Vida Fisheries this Friday at about 1:30 in the afternoon, Paul suggested triggerfish fillet.  I don’t think I had ever eaten it before, and I’m certain I hadn’t cooked it.  Apparently even the Grey triggerfish is somewhat rare this far north.  Perhaps because its habitat is along rocks along the shore, where it dines on shellfish (yum!), it’s not really fished commercially, but this is the time of year it’s most likely to be found, usually by anglers.

But then we both noticed that there were only two left inside the pan resting on the the ice, and they turned out to weigh only about 8 ounces altogether.  I decided that wasn’t quite enough for the two of us at dinner, so I added 6 large sea scallops to my ‘catch’, and added it to the fillets already on ice inside my insulated bag. I would sort out the menu later.

The meal I assembled, of two courses, each featuring some great seafood, was otherwise very minimal in both outline and execution, allowing the quality of some very fresh ingredients to star without any distractions.

There was another first last night:  I used my new [previously-owned] tin-lined copper au gratin pan for the very first time, employing it here to sauté the Triggerfish fillets.  I have never cooked with copper pans, and I didn’t buy it for display (I leave that to the seasoned-polished cast iron).  I loved the copper thing, finding it, at least in this outing, most remarkable for the speed with which it heated.

• six sea scallops from Pura Vida Fisheries, rinsed, dried, slit almost all of the way through horizontally, where they were stuffed with a mixture of 6 leaves of Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil from Whole Foods, one medium-size clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, and pepper, all of which was chopped together very finely before enough olive oil to form a paste was added, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, pan grilled about 2 minutes on each side, removed to plates, lemon juice and olive oil drizzled over the top
• eight very ripe, very sweet cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, washed, dried, halved, heated for a minute in a small, low, ancient Pyrex bluish-glass pan, seasoned with salt and pepper, added to the plates with the scallops

While Scallops are a familiar presence on our table, the Grey Triggerfish doesn’t even make it to our fisher-owned market stands very often, but now I know that it’s a great treat when it does.  I wrote above that this fish hangs out around rocks, and so, in addition to a great texture unlike anything else I can think of, it has an attractive, quite subtle, rather sweet taste, with a finish suggesting crustaceans.  It does indeed. Lovely.

Because it involved no elaborate preparation, the second seafood course followed the first with a minimum of delay. Nice.

I ended up inventing a recipe for the Triggerfish myself, because I had found nothing useful in any of my cookbooks, in my files, or anywhere on line.

• two 4-ounce fillets of Triggerfish from Pura Vida Fisheries, rinsed, dried, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed in olive oil over medium-high heat for only about 90 seconds on each side, removed to warm plates, drizzled with a little fresh lemon, sprinkled with chopped lovage from from Tamarack Farm and drizzled also with olive oil and/or the oil remaining in [yes, here the tin-lined copper!] pan
• the most delicious, juiciest cavalo nero, or lacinato kale, that I’ve ever tasted, from Tamarack Farm, braised with olive oil and one split clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had previously been barely colored in the oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Vallalodid) white, Vevi Rueda 2014
• the music was the entirety of ‘Barbary Coast‘, Red Light New Music’s wonderful first album

 

The dinner was something of a improvisation for that evening, using ingredients I had just found hanging around the kitchen (except perhaps for one very deliberate move, ahead of time, to defrost some frozen crab cakes).  That may explain why, in the end, there was a lot going on with this entrée, but it was pretty tasty nevertheless.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (ingredients: crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, parsley), heated in a heavy iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, sprinkled with fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm, and drizzled with a little olive oil, served on a bed of three different colors of heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures, chopped, which were combined with salt, ground black pepper, part of one tiny, finely-chopped fresh hot red pepper from Roots to River Farm, and chopped fresh oregano leaves from from Rise & Root Farm
• one medium radicchio from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, quartered lengthwise, placed in an unglazed ceramic oven pan, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper, roasted at 400º for about 12 minutes, turning once, finished with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and scattered with shavings of Red Cow Parmesan cheese from Eataly
• portions of the core of the three small Romanesco broccoli we had enjoyed two nights ago, along with sections of their upper cores, sautéed – in steps – in olive oil (along with two small squashed cloves of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had earlier begun to turn brown), until the vegetable was tender, seasoned with salt and pepper, a small amount of water added and then emulsified with the remaining oil
• the wine was a Slovenian (Vipava) white, Guerila Vipavska Dolina Pinela 2012, from Appellation Wines & Spirits
• the music* was, in succession, an August Klughardt piano quintet from 1884, several pieces by Pascal Dusapin, including an extraordinary virtuoso trombone concerto, ‘Concerto for Trombone “Watt” ‘, and some amazing piano pieces of Franz Liszt (the very modern, ‘Nocturne for Piano, S 203 “Schlaflos, Frage und Antwort”‘ was a huge surprise to me), performed brilliantly by Andre Watts  for the evening

*Note: If you click onto this link, and if you have a Spotify account, you can see our entire playlist for the evening.