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

We both really like skate, and I have no idea why it’s not more popular than it seems to be.  Part of the problem may be the paucity of restaurant treatments known to most people who might otherwise be inclined to prepare this delicious fish at home, and part of it may be that not everyone has access to the really small, tender wings as do the patrons of our local Greenmarkets, which are supplied by fisherman off the eastern end of Long Island.  Last night, for the two of us, I cooked five of them.  They weighed approximately only 2 1/2 ounces each, and they all managed to fit into my 12-inch iron pan with very little space to spare.

The vegetable, collard greens, was a very late season cache from Rogowski Farm (probably the very last I’ll see there until fall). from which I was able to reserve enough for one more January meal.

It’s amazing to me, and hugely appreciated by myself and I hope many other market fans, that so many of what I will describe as ‘green vegetables’, perhaps generously in some cases, are still available here fresh at the end of January, and how coveted they are by our local home and restaurant chefs who scour the Union Square Greenmarket four days a week.

“Winter greens’? Not may years ago the produce in the stalls (far fewer in number) would have been pretty much limited to potatoes, onions, bread, preserves, maple syrup, cider, and apples.   Today, in a symbiotic relationship with their city patrons, our local Greenmarket farmer neighbors, who had already become very creative in offering new produce, have managed to adopt and create new growing methods and environments, while continuing to provide the hands-on attention and care which allow these living things to thrive. Even in the month of January it is still possible (or has been, until almost this day) to find there kale, collards, leeks, Brussels sprouts, cabbage of several kinds, fennel, spinach, tomatoes of several kinds and colors, scallions, some delicate greens (including sorrel and cress), radicchio, sage, rosemary, thyme, and an occasional aberration like the baby leeks and fresh garlic I found on Friday, also at Rogowski Farm.

While I’m crazy about root vegetables, and every year I look forward to the winter sweetness they offer, they can really shine in the company of a fresh foil, even if it’s a tiny one.

• skate from Pura Vida Fisheries, dredged in a coarse polenta from Citarella, seasoned with salt, and pepper, very briefly fried in a bit of olive oil until golden brown, removed from the pan, the heat turned down, knobs of butter, some chopped shallots from John C. Madura Farms and finely-minced garlic from Migliorelli Farm added, the aliums stirred and cooked (‘sweated’) briefly, the flame then turned off entirely, and lemon juice, shredded sorrel from Rogowski Farm and a bit of chopped parsley from Eataly added to the pan along with a little more butter, all of it stirred once again until the butter melts, the sauce then scattered over the fish
• sweet collard greens from Rogowski Farm, cut in a rough chiffonade, then braised in a heavy pot in which crushed garlic from Migliorelli Farm had been allowed to sweat with some heated olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, a sprinkle of fresh lemon, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish white, the wine was a Spanish white, Shaya old vines, verdejo Rueda 2013

Hey, is this even the same restaurant serving as the one serving the meals uploaded here over the last few weeks?  Yes, of course it is;  it’s just that my ancient German roots pop up every so often, sometimes when I least expect it.

I think I’ve mentioned in the past that I’ve grown attached to the delicious plenty offered by the wonderful Amish folks of Millport Dairy in the Union Square Greenmarket.  On a recent visit and conversation with John Stoltzfoos at his stall, I brought back two beautiful smoked pork knuckles, weighing about 20 ounces each.  When I had spotted the Haxe on his table that day, I had immediately imagined them cooking, slowly, in a large pot of sauerkraut and aromatic vegetables.  Ideally this would be on a wintry January evening.

It should have been much colder than it was, but I couldn’t wait any longer, so tonight became the occasion for our modest Bavarian feast.  Aside from the tasting itself, this may have been the best moment:  It was about an hour into the slow cooking when I was able to share his pleasure when Barry walked into the aromas of the apartment after a ‘meetup’ earlier in the evening in Gowanus.

• two geräucherte Schweinshaxe (smoked pigs knuckles) from Millport Dairy, placed in a pot with about seven cups of drained and rinsed sauerkraut (here a mixture of Bubbies, and Schorr’s Pickles  brands), chopped onion from Hoeffner Farms, chopped carrot from Monkshood Nursery and Gardens , whole allspice berries and pepper corns,one large bay leaf, salt, and enough water to cover everything, brought to a boil and simmered for about one and a half hours before being divided onto plates
• German Butterball potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled in heavily-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot, (I love that entire beautiful old stove-to-icebox set!), halved, tossed with a little butter, and some parsley from Eataly, chopped
• the wine was a quite good, but very inexpensive Austrian white, Kremser Weinzierl Grüner Veltliner Trocken 2011 from Winzer Krems, in lower Austria

Everything looked terrific at the American Seafood stall in the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesday, but, having no idea of what I would want to prepare that night after Barry and I returned from listening to Laura Poitras speaking at Artists Space, I decided to take two beautiful six-and-a-half ounce flounder fillets (I figured they would give me some creative elbow room).  A few minutes later I saw the bunches of sorrel Jim had spread out on one of the Rogowski Farm tables.  My dinner was now a plan.  As I already had several kinds of boiling potatoes on hand, and a small amount of mixed kales, I was able to return home with an unusually light bag.

• flounder fillets from American Seafood, seasoned, dotted with butter, placed in a ceramic oven dish with a modest amount (1/4 cup for the two) of white wine poured over the top, placed in a 375º oven for 10 minutes, removed and placed on the plates, the juices added to a small pan containing about a fourth of a cup of very good Crème fraîche, which was then boiled quickly until slightly reduced, half of a bunch of shredded sorrel then added and stirred into it before it was spooned over the fish on the plates
• German Butterball potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm (scrubbed but unpeeled), boiled, drained, halved, buttered, and added to the plate
• two kinds of kale (green and purple) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted with olive oil in which thinly-sliced garlic from Migliorelli Farm had been heated
• the wine was a California white, Wente Riva Ranch Chardonnay Arroyo Seco Monterrey 2012

 

The second course was simply sections of a very ripe, luscious Bosc pear from Migliorelli Farm, with its bruised area cut off, served with small amounts of two cheeses, sheep milk Brebis Bleu from 3-Corner Field Farm, and goats milk Slyboro from Consider Bardwell Farm.

• we continued with the Wente Chardonnay with this course

While it’s possible I may still see some Bosc pears in the Greenmarket this winter, I was assured today by the farmers that I was enjoying the last of the both the sorrel and the kale.  All of which makes me particularly happy that I still have half of Jim’s savory rumex acetosa, as well as an equally sweet-looking bunch of collard greens (apparently also the very last of the season), picked up at Rogowski Farm today as well.

 

Regarding the earlier part of the evening, being in that crowded room tonight with Laura was an enormous privilege, but it was also a powerful reminder of just how much this country has lost, primarily since 9/11.

I try to interrupt, or bridge meat and fish meals with pasta, egg, or vegetable entrées (and sometimes that means an interval of more than one evening), and tonight it was the turn for a frittata, although it was one which included a bit of cured meat as well as a great, underappreciated vegetable.

• the interior leaves of a Savoy cabbage from from Hoeffner Farms (this was actually the third meal in which I was able to feature this same small cabbage), boiled briefly until tender, then chopped and set aside while garlic from Migliorelli Farm, minced, was heated until golden in a large cast iron pan with olive oil, after which the cabbage was added, cooked for 2 or 3 minutes, removed from the pan and replaced by small pieces of spicy sopressata from Alleva Dairy in Little Italy, where it was warmed, and during which time half a dozen eggs from Millport Dairy were whipped in a bowl, seasoned with freshly-ground pepper and joined by the cabbage before being poured into the iron pan, where they were cooked at a very low heat until almost set, placed under the broiler, for only moments, removed, and finally served on a plate along with Upland Cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge [the basis for this entrée was a recipe of Marcella Hazan; the sopressata was my addition]
• the wine was a Northern Italian red, Vallana Campi Raudii VIno Rosso [the wine appears to be non-vintage, but the makers’ website mentions  something about 101 BC, and credentials like that are good enough for me]

This was a pretty modest two-course dinner composed almost exclusively of leftovers;  it was simple, quick, easy, relaxing for the cook, and delicious.  I’m thinking, home economy, even though the phrase might seem an aberration today.

• The first course was smoked bluefish pâté on toast.  The bluefish was from the same smoked fillet we had first enjoyed late in December. The portion used last night had been frozen for three weeks or so and defrosted overnight, and the remaining ingredients of the spread (using the same recipe, with the addition of scissored chives from Whole Foods) were new.  The bread was the same kind used last month.
• The second course was basically the La Gricia remaining from a few days ago, divided between two casuelas and heated in the oven while we sat down to the first course.  The pasta was finished, first, and totally inauthentically, with part of the abundance of parsley which had to go unused two nights ago, then topped with some additional shredded pecorino.
• The wine was an Italian white, Taburno Falanchina del Sannion 2013

This isn’t actually roasted trout with a parsley cream sauce, Salzkartoffeln on the side.   Yeah, I was surprised too.

Not until I had already started preparation of the vegetables for a meal I expected to describe as Forelle in Petersiliensoße did I realize that I had brought home a whole smoked trout, instead of a fresh one.  Suddenly everything had to be rethought, in fact reassembled.  I can’t explain how I could have made the mistake at the market on Wednesday, or especially why I had not noticed the mistake as soon as I took the vacuum-packed fish out of the opaque outer bag in which it had rested inside our refrigerator, but I managed to make a quick recovery (did I just use a sports metaphor?), even if I did end up with tons of washed and dried parsley I now have no idea what I’ll do with.

We had a super Riesling we wanted to pair with something German, so I had decided to serve Forelle in Saueranpfersoße, with parsley substituting for the sorrel I didn’t have (I thought I had made up the parsley version myself, but it seems there really is such a dish).  When I arrived at the Max Creek Hatchery Greenmarket stall last week I had been distracted by a conversation Dave Harris was having with an artist friend of his, and had entered into it.  The friend had just arrived on a unicycle, which may help to explain why I was so distrait that I didn’t notice I had bought smoked rather than fresh whole trout.  I intended to serve the baked fish with boiled potatoes topped with butter-toasted bread crumbs and wilted kale, and last night I was already into the washing, scrubbing, tearing, oven heating, and arrangement of all the ingredients, when I realized my mistake.

My sauced whole trout entrée mit Beilage,was going to have be some form of smoked trout and potato salad.

The pan in which I had intended to place the fish in the oven with a bit of white wine had already been buttered, but now, working against time (it was getting late), I switched gears and used it to roast, with seasonings, the potatoes I had already scrubbed; I mixed a simple lemon-oil dressing, skinned the trout, then separated its flesh into large chunks in preparation for its conversion into a salad.  I couldn’t use the tons of parsley I had already washed and dried, so I wrapped the herb carefully and placed it in the refrigerator. I poured the half cup of wine back into the bottle, and returned it to the refrigerator as well, doing the same with the double cream. We try not to waste anything around here.

Although I didn’t really have enough potatoes for the recipe I had now chosen, in fact it all worked out very well.

Finally however, as it was a salad, and the virtue of the entrée’s denouement was in question until the very end, we did replace the very special Riesling with another wine, although a very good and quite interesting one.

• one whole smoked trout from Max Creek Hatchery, the flesh broken into pieces and drizzled with a lemon-oil dressing, served with German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm which had been quartered, placed in a bowl, drizzled with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, skin-on garlic cloves, and sprigs of thyme, then spread onto an oven pan and roasted, turning once, onto the other cut side, until they were brown and almost crispy on the edges, removed from the oven and drizzled with more of the lemon-oil dressing, placed in shallow bowls so that they surrounded the trout and didn’t give away their inadequate numbers, crème fraîche added on top, the dish finally garnished with chives from Whole Foods, scissored
• the wine was an American white, Devonian Finger Lakes NV Anthony Road Dry White Wine
• the music was magnificent, Beat Furrer’s opera, ‘Wüstenbuch‘

I needed a bit of liver as one ingredient of the sturdy sauce I wanted to prepare for a hare two weeks ago.  I was in the Union Square Greenmarket picking up ingredients for that special meal, one of which was indicated in the recipe as calves liver, when I realized there was no veal to be found, and definitely no veal liver to be had there.  But there were several stalls selling lamb.  One of them had lambs liver.  For me the big surprise was the size of each vacuum package.  The smallest weighed more than a pound and a half, and that was from one rather small lamb.  After cutting them into three pieces and using one section in the hare recipe, I repackaged the other two (9 ounces each) and put them in the freezer.

Last night was the first opportunity I had to use one of them as the centerpiece of a dinner itself.  I used a lamb offal recipe I think I could describe as originating, appropriately, in the British north, Lincolnshire to be specific.  The chef is Dominic, of Beaulieu Kitchen.  I have another terrific-looking recipe, which I found elsewhere.  It involves two kinds of mushrooms, and some Madeira, and it will star the package remaining in the freezer.  After a decent innards interval, I expect to be out shopping for fungi at the Greenmarket.

• lamb liver (9 ounces) from 3-Corner Field Farm, sautéed only until sealed and a bit crispy on both sides, removed from the heat, butter added, the pan placed in an 400º oven for a few minutes, the liver then removed, set aside and kept warm, balsamic vinegar added and reduced over high heat almost to a syrup, the flame turned down, and butter, toasted pine nuts, and sultanas (previously soaked in warm water), added and stirred, the liver then returned to the pan and moved around in the sauce just before it and the meat were spooned onto a bed of Savoy cabbage from from Hoeffner Farms (earlier been steamed for 3 or 4 minutes) which had been warmed up just before being placed on the plate
• carrots from Rogowski Farm and parsnips from Migliorelli Farm, both cut as French fries, tossed with olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, minced rosemary from Queens County Farm, salt, and pepper, then spread evenly onto a ceramic oven pan and roasted in a 425º oven for about half an hour
• the wine was a Spanish red, Otonal Rioja Reserva Bodegas Olarra 2008