There are so many ways to make this dish, it hardly merits mentioning any of my own, and I have a number of variations myself, but this is what I did on this one night.  I bought the shellfish rather than fish when I was at the greenmarket on Monday because that night I was going to have to put together something using leftover Guinea fowl, but I wanted to have some kind of seafood the next day (which was not a Greenmarket day) and I knew the clams would still be alive and fine then.

• Afeltra linguine tossed in a large pot in which two garlic cloves from S.S.&O. Farm, minced, and one crushed peperoncino had been heated in some olive oil before being joined by little neck clams from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, along with their cooking juices after they had been steamed open in a separate pot, the entire mix sprinkled with a bunch of parsley from Stokes Farm, chopped
• the wine was an Italian white, Bricco del Sole Langhe Chardonnay 2011

This past Saturday I noticed a smallish glass container on the middle shelf of the refrigerator: The meat leftovers for the meal of Guinea fowl! I wasn’t really worried about the time it had spent on the shelf, especially since it was very well sealed, and it looked very fresh.  I tasted it nevertheless;  it was really delicious.  I couldn’t use it that night, or even the next, because I already had fresh fish at home for the first night, and two fresh lamb chops for the second.

This meant that I had time to do some planning, and the first thing that came to mind for an entrée that would use my surprise package was, almost naturally for me, a salad, certainly using some fresh greenery stuff.  Then I realized that I had bought a large red cabbage on Saturday, expecting it would be good for at least two meals, even if I had not yet imagined them.  I checked on line, hoping for a brilliant idea which would combine cabbage, fowl, and other ingredients I had on hand or could easily gather.  I found one on Epicurious.com, but I’m afraid my idea of working with the freshness of the meat got lost in my enthusiasm for its ingredients.  The ‘salad’ recipe however was terrific.

In the list of ingredients for “Warm Red Cabbage Salad with Roast Chicken and Gorgonzola Cheese” the chicken (or Guinea fowl) could well be substituted with pork or some other meat, or it could remain entirely vegetarian.  In fact it’s so incredibly rich, this ‘salad’ almost cries out for a green salad accompaniment!

The recipe is actually pretty simple, and, once you line up the ingredients, takes very little time.   In order to hurry the process along later in the evening, I had roasted the walnuts before we left for what turned out to be a terrific 8 o’clock Wet Ink Ensemble concert three blocks away, but we were back at home a little after 10, and sat down to dinner a little after 11.

• red cabbage from Tamarack Hollow Farm, a small fennel bulb from Norwich Meadows Farm, a small head of radicchio from Eataly, one small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, all the vegetables sliced thinly and placed in a large bowl along with coarsely-chopped toasted walnuts, one small carrot from Norwich Meadows Farm cut into matchstick-size pieces, a small Bosc pear from Caradonna Farms, cut into eight wedges, everything mixed together with a dressing of garlic from S.S. & O. Farm, chopped, balsamic vinegar, dijon mustard, and olive oil, the whole sautéed until the mix is warm and the cabbage slightly wilted, with cooked Guinea fowl, broken into bit-size pieces, added near the end, all served in large shallow bowls and topped with bits of gorgonzola cheese and a sprinkling of chopped fennel fronds
•  the wine was a French (Alsatian) white, Gentil HUGEL 2013 AOC Alsace

This meal is pretty straightforward, so I can’t think of anything to say about it, other that the fact that the other two lamb chops from the package of four I bought on Saturday are waiting in the freezer for another meal, and that I also still have more of all the roots which accompanied the meat in this dinner.

• two lamb chops form 3-Corner Field Farm, seasoned, brushed with garlic from S.S.& O. Farms and rosemary from Phillips Farm, both chopped, then pan-grilled
• roots (celery root, parsnips, and carrots from Norwich Meadows Farm, and German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm) together with shallots from Keith’s Farm, all roasted together, then finished, before they were removed from the oven, with chopped garlic from S.S. & O. Farm, and chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• radish greens, from a Greenmarket source I did not record this time, dressed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a French red, Clos Chanteduc Côtes-du-Rhône 2011

I’ve certainly prepared haddock before, but apparently never entered a meal which included the fish into the Food Blog.  It’s quite similar to cod in flavor and texture, and so quite delicious (yet somewhat less expensive), so it was easy to think of a dish which involved potatoes sliced thinly and baked with a savory herb.  This recipe I used was inspired by one in Mark Bittman’s discussion of how to cook white fish fillets.

• a mix, four each, of Reba potatoes from Garden of Spices Farm and German Butterball potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm (I was improvising from what I found in the larder), washed, but not peeled, sliced thinly, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, spread onto an oven dish and roasted at 425º for about 25 minutes (when they have begun to brown), sprinkled with sage and garlic, both from S. & S.O. Farms, both chopped, topped with a single haddock fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and two tablespoons of oil, and returned to the oven for about 10 minutes, or until the fish is just done
• a small shallot from Keith’s Farm, thinly sliced, stirred briefly in a pan with olive oil, before joined by the leaves of four beautiful tatsoi ‘heads’ from Tamarack Hollow Farm, the vegetables salted, then cooked until wilted but still bright green
• the wine was a California white, Amador County Sobon Estate Viognier 2013

It was an off day, meaning it was neither a Greenmarket day (so no fresh fish) nor one on which I wanted to serve any significant amount of meat.  A simple vegetarian pasta dish would normally have been in order, but then I thought about the fresh eggs, perfectly ripe tomatoes, thinly-sliced prosciutto, and a bit of some very sweet kale which I had on hand, , so I looked around for a formula.

Mark Bittman again.

His 2007 recipe, “Baked Egg With Prosciutto and Tomato” became my starting point.  I had stashed the clipping in my ‘breakfast/lunch’ folder, but I had never used it, perhaps because it suggested only one egg for each portion.  I never totally forgot it however, even though I rarely actually cook breakfast, and seldom cook lunch;  by the time either of us is thinking of those meals, neither is willing to hold off hunger to wait for the prep.

But I love eggs, and I can appreciate them with any meal, so I took another look at the recipe and decided that adding two more eggs to the cazuelas would not corrupt it. Bittman’s text also suggested adding cooked spinach or asparagus to the bottom of each vessel;  I had some purple kale and was sure it would do just fine.

It made for a pretty decent dinner.   Breakfast or lunch even.

• casuelas, each brushed inside with olive oil and layered with purple kale from Lucky Dog Organic, already braised, drizzled with a little cream, small Maine tomatoes (backyard farms.com), sliced, sliced prosciutto, both the tomatoes and the prosciutto from Whole Foods, three eggs from Knoll Krest Farm broken onto the surface, and finally one half of a chopped raw Brussels sprout (found all alone in the crisper, having escaped inclusion in an earlier meal), the whole baked until the eggs were set, the whites solidified, then seasoned with good salt and pepper
• the wine was a Spanish Rioja, Ermita de San Felices Crianza 2009

This squid recipe is as delicious as it is simple to assemble. We’ve enjoyed it often.  This time, because the cephalopods were quite small, and in the oven for just the right length of time, they virtually melted in our mouths, their juices mixed with the olive oil, the pungent dried herb and pepperoncini.

The broccoli on the other hand, was slightly more complicated, surprisingly.  For a while I thought I had completely messed up the recipe.  I found it in a folder with the word, ‘awesome’ scribbled with a red marker, in my own hand.  I didn’t remember having ever used it before (later found that I had, at least once), but the ingredients seemed to promise a perfect accompaniment for the squid:  Fresh, late-season tender broccoli, in small bunches, from a favorite local Greenmarket farmer, with anchovy, garlic, a small amount of breadcrumbs, and a little grated Parmesan.

The instructions were to parboil the broccoli gently for 10 to 12 minutes before removing it, and proceeding to add the other ingredients, each in its turn, on top of the range in a broad pan.  I should have been suspicious right there, because I rarely boil vegetables, except for a minute or two.  The Italians seem to prefer them cooked far longer.  Even before I had finished the dish I was prepared to admit failure, but, while they looked pretty worn out on the plate, I had to admit they were delicious, and surprisingly sweet.  Also very Italian.

I still think I’m going to cut the boiling time short – drastically –  the next time

• cleaned squid bodies and tentacles from P.E.&D.D., washed, patted dry, arranged in a roasting pan which had been heated and brushed with olive oil, then scattered with a mixture of some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia and crushed dried pepperoncini, also from Buon Italia, with a good squeeze of lemon juice and some olive oil drizzled over the top, then roasted for five minutes
• broccoli from Race Farm, boiled gently (for a short time), then cooked with bread crumbs & anchovies (Broccoletti con Pan Grattato e Acciunghe, from the late Kyle Phillips)
• the wine was an Italian white, Calatrasi & Miccichè Bella Nova Terre Siciliane 2013

I had seen the little display of vacuum-wrapped Guinea fowl at the stand in the Union Square Greenmarket a number of times before, but it was only a few weeks ago that I finally asked about them.  They were lying on the table inside Lucky Dog Organic‘s stall.  Rich Giles told me that they were grown and packaged by his farmer neighbor, Jennifer Grossman.  Their farms are in the Catskills.  I was intrigued, partly because of the relative novelty of the bird in this part of the world now (I hadn’t enjoyed Guinea fowl myself in years, although I  knew its virtues), and because I knew the meat was at least slightly more gamey than chicken.  I was also attracted to the birds because I generally try to encourage, buy, and enjoy local meat and fish almost as much as I do local vegetables and fruit.

The weight of the birds being sold on Saturday varied a bit, but they were all the same price, an amount I thought reasonable considering the circumstances of their raising; I picked the largest package;  it was just under three pounds.  There were two of us for dinner; we had leftovers.

A personal remembrance:  Many years ago in South Africa, I frequently saw Guinea fowl in the mixed farm and savanna areas of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State.  Those regular sightings, like the perennial red earth of the Transvaal itself, so utterly different from the Midwest and the New England of my experience, as well as the flies the size of a dormouse, and the Long-Tailed Widowbird, I found all entirely exotic.  The Guinea fowl were particularly sweet and beautiful, because of their movement on the ground, and their checked plumage, but I had rarely brought one to my own table, and certainly not for many years.

I probably worried too much about how and for how long I was going to cook the bird this time, although I had a reasonable concern about it being ready at the same time as the sweet potatoes I would also be roasting.  I didn’t worry about the ‘purples’ (‘greens’), since the very sweet kale could be prepared ahead and reheated, or even left at room temperature.   Then, while researching the possibilities the night before our Sunday dinner, I remembered that I had some cooked chestnuts in the freezer, from, well, I don’t know how far back.  I decided it was time, also an appropriate time, to use them, so I defrosted them.  The next day, both the manner and order of the rest of the meal’s cooking eventually fell into place, and the chestnuts became an integral part of it.

In the end I just prepared a simple chestnut stuffing and roasted the bird, on a rack above the potatoes, until its internal temperature was 160º.  The result was a perfectly-cooked Guinea hen, easily carved, more flavorful and juicy than chicken, and only very slightly more robust (gamey) in flavor; the fact that I didn’t miss the absence of a relish or chutney of any kind should be the giveaway for that.  There were also some pan drippings, just enough even without deglazing the small amount of collected liquid.

I will admit that the sweet potato oven fries saw the light of the kitchen twice after they were first put into the ancient Magic Chef, while I juggled developments in the separate cooking times of bird and tubers.

One more small satisfaction last evening:  Barry and I listened to Marek Janowsky‘s recording of ‘Die Walküre’, beginning at the moment I actually started cooking.  The ‘Ride’ began just as I brought plates to the table (whoa, drama!), and we didn’t rise from the table until the last note.

• a French Guinea hen from Mauer’s Mountain Farms, via Lucky Dog Organic, dried then brought to room temperature, seasoned with salt and pepper, rubbed all over with olive oil, stuffed with a chestnut dressing (see the next bullet point), placed in an enameled cast iron pan slightly larger than the bird, and roasted in a 375º oven for about 55 minutes, during which time it was placed on one side, then the other, and finally on its back, basted regularly throughout, removed from the oven when the internal temperature, measured at the thickest part of the thigh, registered 160º, allowed to rest, then carved and served, along with pan liquids
• a dressing made by sautéeing minced celery, onion and garlic until soft, adding chopped thyme, roughly-chopped cooked chestnuts, breadcrumbs softened in milk, salt, and pepper
• Japanese Sweet potatoes from Samascott Orchards, cut as for fries, tossed with a bit of olive oil and salt, arranged on a ceramic oven pan without touching, roasted until almost done, the heat turned up to 450º ten minutes before removal from the oven, at which time they were sprinkled with a modest amount of Spanish Pimenton Dulce
• purple kale from Lucky Dog Organic, braised with olive oil and a clove of garlic from S.S. & S. O. Farms which had been split and heated in the oil until starting to color, the vegetable then seasoned with salt and pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a French red, Château Prignac Médoc 2009 Grand Vin de Bordeaux

The chiles are chopped very small, but they’re there, even if they seem to be hiding from the camera.

Spaghetti aglio olio e peperoncino:  There’s almost nothing simpler, but if the ingredients are the very best, the dish will be also.   Even keeping within the Italian tradition, I could have added chopped parsley, for both the color and a note of garden freshness, but I really wanted to see if the basic recipe would work well without the ’embellishment’.   The answer is both yes and no:  The flavor was full, and very elegant, but I think I’ll still want to add parsley next time, for ‘the color and the note of garden freshness’.

After the pasta we enjoyed a plate of three cheeses along with a Bosc pear, continuing the evening’s white theme.

• Spaghetto, from Pastificio Afeltra, made from 100% Italian-grown durum wheat semolina, boiled in a large pot of salted water until al dente, then tossed with olive oil in which minced garlic, peperoncino and a bit of minced fresh Thai red and yellow pepper had already been heated.
• the wine was an Italian white, Villa Antinori Toscana 2012

Late one afternoon, having earlier been unable to find a fish monger at the Greenmarket, I decided that I should start thinking about what I would prepare for dinner.  Fish has more and more become my first choice, and with familiarity with my sources and experience in cooking it I’ve become pretty fussy about where I buy it.  We both happen to love salmon, probably as much as any other fish, or shellfish (oysters definitely come first, but I don’t cook them).   Because of the availability throughout the week, normally, of six or so local fishermen at the Greenmarket, if I buy fish at the Whole Foods down the block, which I normally patronize only for staples, it’s always wild salmon from the Northwest, and almost always when it’s on sale.  I assume it’s been frozen at some time since leaving the water, but, even knowing what it tastes like in Oregon and Washington, I don’t think it’s lost anything in the process.

I bought salmon.  This was one of the best servings we’ve ever had at home, and it’s absurdly easy to prepare.

A word on the sweet potatoes (by the way, they would seem to be a natural as an accompaniment to salmon):  I found these particular small samples hanging in a darkened closet in a paper bag.  That is how I usually store sweet potatoes, but I had no memory or record in my trusty digital food log of their being there, or at least not still being there.  I think they had to be at least a year old. They had darkened and were so dessicated they now weighed almost nothing.  I was going to throw them out, but decided to give them a try.  They were phenomenal.  Note to self and all survivalists: I it ever becomes necessary to horde fresh, uncooked food in an emergency, without refrigeration and for an extended period of time, you could do a lot worse than choosing sweet potatoes.

• Coho salmon fillet from Whole Foods, roasted in a shallow enameled cast-iron pan in butter (for 1 pound of salmon, use 2 tablespoons of butter), seasoned, then finished with parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm
• small Japanese sweet potatoes, from [I-don’t-remember-because-it-was-so-very-long-ago-but-they-were-incredibly-delicious], tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, placed in an unglazed ceramic pan with some thickly-sliced garlic from Berried Treasures placed on top of the pieces (to avoid the garlic burning), and finished with chopped rosemary from Queens County Farm
• Brussels sprouts from Central Valley Farm, tossed with olive oil, freshly-ground black pepper, and a generous amount of salt, then roasted
• the wine was a California red, Santa Barbara Winery Pinot Noir 2012

This meal, or variations of it, is one of our favorites, visited originally after I saw the Mark Bittman recipe in the Times 15 years ago (By the way, I’ve learned to use only about two thirds of the suggested amount of olive oil;  any more than that and you’ll probably find the potatoes swimming in it at the end).  We never tire of the dish, and only partly because it can be prepared with so many different kinds of fish, basically any white fish.  In Bittman’s list, “Monkfish works very well . . . . But other fillets will give similar results, including red snapper, sea bass, pollock, wolffish, even catfish.”

This time it seemed even more delicious than usual.   The fish has to be absolutely fresh, and it helps when the olives are right, and when the potatoes end up slightly crisp on the edges (I almost never peel potatoes anyway, and certainly not for this recipe).

I served Brussels sprouts along with the entrée.  They roasted in the oven for the same total time as the fish and potatoes.

It’s a meal which is really quite simple, and super super.

• the hake fillet was from Pura Vida, the olives were Gaeta, from Whole Foods, the two tubers were Reba potatoes from Garden of Spices Farm, and the seven fresh bay leaves were from the Westside Market
• the Brussels sprouts, from Central Valley Farm, tossed with olive oil, freshly-ground black pepper, and a generous amount of salt, then roasted
• the wine was a French white, Val de Loire, Chateau de la Presle, Touraine 2013