Last night I returned to my ancient, well-thumbed and lightly-sauced 1966 edition of Julia Child’s, ‘Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1’ to help me decide what to do with a cut of meat I don’t think I have ever prepared before.

The result was really delicious, although it was very different from my current cooking style, and it looks surprisingly ‘French provincial cooking’ (I don’t know what I was expecting). Anyway, thank goodness for micro greens.

It also reminded me of some of the reasons I mostly abandoned Julia Child years ago: I almost always found it personally very stressful, especially toward the finish, even when they were a great success (maybe you have to be the mythical bonne femme to carry it off?); I got tired of the rigidity of her formulas; I doubted her books would ever enable me to be creative or improvisatory; and I was eventually persuaded that the recipes were unnecessarily complicated, especially after I started working with Italian models. I worried that I would never be à la bonne femme

These are the potatoes that went into this meal. I may finally have to admit that I become obsessed with eggs at this time of the year. The image is of a couple handfuls of Pintos, but as I was preparing them last night I saw them as small marzipan Easter eggs. They made absolutely delicious roasted potatoes!

I found timing the cooking of this single veal chop problematic, and I don’t know why. I had kept the lowest possible flame under the covered pot while it was braising, but my instant read thermometer told me it was done much sooner than Julia had said it would be. The next time, if there is a next time, I’m probably going to depend entirely on my personal finger gauge, as Pierre Franey advises:

Of course, it is not always practical to pierce chops with a meat thermometer, so I usually use the trusty finger method. Press the meat carefully and quickly while it is cooking-naturally, avoid touching the hot surface of the pan-and if the meat bounces back readily, it needs further cooking. As soon as the meat loses that resilience, it is done. Judging this takes some experience, but once you master the technique, it is foolproof.

• one 23-ounce veal shoulder chop, slightly over an inch thick, from Alex at the Consider Bardwell Farms stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, dried well with paper towels, seared in 1 tablespoon of butter and half a tablespoon of olive oil inside a heavy medium size enameled oval cast iron pan (the chop just fit, with no room to spare), once the butter foam had begun  to subside, for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, regulating heat so the butter is very hot but not browning, removed to a side dish, the meat seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, et over moderate heat, more than a tablespoon of minced strongly flavored ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallots from Quarton Farm stirred into the butter and oil, cooked for 2 minutes, stirring, the veal returned to the pan, 1/4 cup of dry white wine (our dinner wine, Medoc Villa des Crus 2015) added, along with some chicken stock, enough to come half way up the meat, a teaspoon or so of home-dried sage (originally from Phillips Farm last summer), the liquid brought to a simmer, the pan covered, its contents maintained at a slow, steady simmer throughout cooking (as it turned out, less than 45 minutes) basting the meat several times with the liquid inside, the chop removed, the meat removed from the bones, and divided onto 2 plates and kept warm for the few minutes it took to finish the sauce by removing the fat with a vintage cast aluminum ladle designed for the purpose, the liquid brought to a boil and reduced rapidly until liquid almost syrupy, almost all the juice from half of a lemon added, at least partly to offset its inevitable saltiness, remove from heat and about 2 tablespoons of soft butter added, a little at a time, until melted in, the sauce spooned over the veal on the plates and served immediately (the vegetables having already been added to each) garnished with micro purple kale from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• one pound of pinto potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from from Stokes Farm [and optionally, a small amount of crushed home-dried habanada pepper], arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 400º for around 20 minutes

• a couple handfuls of beautiful chicory rosettes from Campo Rosso Farm that Chris said had popped up this spring from last fall’s plants, washed, drained, dried, each halved, or quartered, if larger, tossed in a large bowl with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and a number of thyme branches from Chelsea Whole Foods, then arranged inside a large well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted at 400º for about 10 minutes, by which time their edges had become deliciously crispy, removed from the oven, the pan allowed to cool just a little before they were drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a French (Medoc) red, Medoc Villa des Crus 2015, from Garnet Wine
• the music was a recording of the first symphonies of Hans Gál and Robert Schumann, Kenneth Woods conducting the Orchestra of the Swan

 

 

• technically it should probably be described as ‘Côtes de Veau Dans Leur Jus‘ although my headline style would require all lower case), and in Julia Child’s book it is, but that didn’t all fit inside the space I had available

The 3 most basic food groups: fresh, local, good. All 3 had them.

• one thick tuna steak (15 ounces) from Pura Vida Seafood Company, from which I had first cut off a 6-ounce section to freeze for later use, rinsed, dried, halved, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed with a mixture of a little more than a tablespoon of mix of wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia, whole Moroccan coriander seeds from Flatiron Eataly, and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia all first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for only a little more than a minute or so on each side (if the cook can remember to watch the time), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with a little micro red radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• 6 Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slow-roasted inside a small antique rolled-edge tin oven pan with a heaping teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, half a tablespoon or more of Trader Joe’s Reserve olive oil, and 4 bruised cloves of garlic from Foragers Market
• one bunch of bok choy (aka, bok choi, pak choi, pak choy, pok choi, for ‘small white vegetable’) from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, washed, sliced into one-inch sections, wilted inside a large vintage, heavy tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil after 2 halved garlic cloves had already been heated there until they had begun to brown, the process starting with the thickest sections of this wonderful brassica chinensis, those closest to the root end, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the flame while still a little crunchy, drizzled with a little more olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejano) white, Herdade Do Esporao Reguengos Esporao White 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Caroline Shaw’s new Album, ‘Orange’, performed by Attacca Quartet

They were the first ramps I’d seen in the Greenmarket, and it wasn’t a day too soon. In fact it seemed they were more like 14 days late, judging by my Food Blog records over the years.

The pasta was also a treat, and the smoked duck breast was sublime. The mix of those 3 required almost nothing else.

• the sliced white, bulb sections of 3 perfect ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm heated gently, until they had become fragrant and had softened a bit, in a couple tablespoons of Trader Joe’s very good unfiltered Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil inside a large antique copper pot, 9 ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ whole wheat Italian Pastaio di Gragnano from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, tossed in, followed by about 3 quarters of a cup of reserved cooking water, all stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, the heat turned way down and 4 four ounces of roughly chopped applewood-smoked duck ham (breast) from Hudson Valley Duck Farm mixed in, along with barely a pinch of crushed dried hickory-smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, also some chopped fresh thyme leaves from Phillips Farms, seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, the ramp leaves, now thinly sliced lengthwise, thrown into the mix, the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls and sprinkled with some grated Parmigiano Reggiano (aged 24 months) from Whole Foods Market
• the wine was a really good California sparkling, Eponina Brut California NV, from Naked Wines
• the music was Helen Grime’s ‘Woven Space’, with Sir Simon Rattle conducting the London Symphony Orchestra

I love this fish in so many ways. This may have been my tastiest broiled sea perch with anchovy, ever, and there have been a lot of them.

Here they are still inside the fishers’ bucket at the Union Square Greenmarket:

Unrelated: I think freshwater perch (Perca flavescens) would be even more popular than it already is if it were as red as these beauties, which even stay orange or red throughout the cooking process.

Oops, I just read that my favorite finned delicacy while I was growing up around the Great lakes, ‘the ultimate pan fish’, is now mostly farmed.  You really can never go home again.

The fillets lying on the counter at home, after being rinsed:

After being placed inside the pan, oiled, garlic-ed, and seasoned:

• four beautiful Atlantic sea perch fillets (one pound total), red, or orange-red colored, sometimes called ‘redfish’, but in New York area at least, it’s normally ‘sea perch’ or ‘ocean perch’, even though they aren’t really perch at all, but ‘rockfish’ [?], from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, brushed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with about a teaspoon of finely chopped garlic from our local, 8th Avenue Foragers Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside a large enameled cast iron pan, broiled skin side up 4 or 5 inches from the flame for about 4 or 5 minutes, at which time the edges had become a little crisp, and the fish was cooked through, removed from the broiler and sauced simply with a bit of warm anchovy in olive oil (2 salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed thoroughly, filleted and chopped, had been heated over a very low flame for about 5 minutes in 2 tablespoons of oil, by which time the anchovies had fallen apart), the fillets garnished with micro red radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge, Whole Foods Market lemon wedges served on the side
• just under a pound of very sweet small redskin potatoes from Race Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with scissored fresh chives, also from Phillips Farms, which were supposed to be served with more chives scattered over the top, but I forgot to add them
• what remained of a large bunch of broccoli rabe (aka raab, or rapini, among other names) from Migliorelli Farm after cooking most of it 2 days earlier, wilted in a little olive oil inside a medium size antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 6 small garlic cloves from Foragers Market had been heated until fragrant and slightly softened, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a couple pinches of dried peperoncini Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in Chelsea Market, divided between the 2 plates and drizzled with a little more olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporao Monte Velho White 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was a recording of the 2018 premier performance [yeah, the premier] of Donizetti’s 1839  opera semiseria, ‘L’ Ange de Nisida’, in a concert performance at the Royal Opera House in London, in association with the remarkable company, Opera Rara, conducted by Mark Elder, the title role sung by Joyce El-Khoury

The scallops were delicious (unless you really mess up, it’s almost inconceivable that scallops could not be delicious), but the mushrooms were really, really good. I can’t account for that success; I’ll have to leave it as one of the mysteries of non-mechanized cooking. [update: I just realized that, in reading my account, the last time I prepared these mushrooms to accompany scallops I had apparently forgotten to season them while they were cooking which would certainly explain why last night’s were so much better]

• ten sea scallops (12.5 ounces) from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, rinsed, dried thoroughly, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, briefly grilled (90 seconds on each side) on a medium size enameled cast iron pan, finished with a squeeze of juice from a Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon and a drizzle of olive oil
• a garnish of micro red radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• two ‘heads’ of yellow oyster mushrooms (7 or 8 ounces altogether) from Blue Oyster Cultivation sautéed inside a large high-sided antique copper pot in a tablespoon of butter, or a little more, for about 4 minutes, one medium finely-chopped ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm and one finely-chopped garlic clove from Foragers Market added, still over the flame, mixed with the mushrooms for 2 minutes, some sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper stirred in before almost a quarter cup of a Lustau dry (fino) sherry from Philippe Wines was poured into the mix, which was allowed to simmer, again stirring, for another minute or two before about a teaspoon of chopped fresh thyme from Phillips Farms was tossed in and the pan removed rom the heat, a tablespoon, or a little more, of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, divided into small pieces, added and stirred until it had melted into the mushrooms, which were then arranged on the plate next to the scallops

• a small bunch of kale from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, wilted inside a medium size heavy antique copper pot in which 2 garlic cloves from Chelsea’s Foragers Market had first been allowed to sweat in a little olive oil until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon (Dundee Hills) white, Erath Pinot Gris 2016, from Philippe Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1733 opera seria, ‘Orlando’, performed by Christopher Hogwood and the Academy of Ancient Music

It’s probably a dead giveaway of the really modest size of some of the farms whose produce we enjoy in our local farmers markets that I couldn’t assemble 4 goat chops of the same cut when I was shopping in Union Square recently. No problem however, as I welcomed the chance to show a little more depth than usual on each plate, and I went home with 2 rib chops and 2 loin chops.

I didn’t think much about it until sitting down to write this blog post: This may be a big city, but that doesn’t mean the farms surrounding it have to be.

I love the Union Square Greenmarket.

This is an image of the chops while they were still marinating and the potatoes just after they had been arranged in the oven pan.

• four tiny goat chops, 2 rib cut and 2 loin cut, weighing only one pound altogether, from Lynnhaven Dairy Goat Farm, marinated for about 45 minutes in a mix of a couple tablespoons of olive oil, one sliced stem of green garlic from John D. Madura Farms, freshly-ground black pepper, 8 slightly-crushed juniper berries, some roughly-chopped rosemary from Stokes Farm, one medium crushed, now-dried-but-purchased-fresh, bay leaf from Westside Market, and a little zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning 3 times, seasoned with sea salt and a little more pepper after the first turn, finished with a bit of lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge [note to the cook: the goat was a little more rare than we prefer, so ignore the instant-read thermometer next time (I think these chops are too small and irregular to get a reliable reading), and use the more dependable finger test]

• about a pound of small red fingerling potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, halved then tossed with a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, a pinch of dried smoked Scotch Bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, 6 medium-size garlic cloves (unpeeled, to keep them from burning) from Keith’s Farm, roasted cut-side down inside a 400º oven on a large very well-seasoned Pampered Chef ceramic pan for less about 20 minutes, sprinkled with chopped parsley from Philipps Farms

• most of one large bunch of broccoli rabe (aka raab, or rapini, among other names) from Migliorelli Farm, wilted in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 garlic cloves from Foragers Market had been heated until slightly softened, the greens seasoned with salt and pepper, divided between the 2 plates and drizzled with a little more olive oil

• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) red, Bodegas Hermanos de Pecina, Rioja Cosecha Tinto 2017, from Flatiron Wines 
• the music was an album of Luigi Nono’s orchestral works and chamber music, performed by by the Moscow String Quartet, the SWF Symphony Orchestra Baden-Baden, and the Experimentalstudio of the Heinrich-Strobel-Foundation of the SWF Freiburg

 

I don’t think I could say bluefish is my very favorite finned seafood, but it’s somewhere near the top, and, besides, it’s never boring.

Occasionally a special variant comes to the market and the love affair begins all over again. I’m talking about the catch of quite small fillets I found at the Union Square Greenmarket on Friday.

The fillets were beautiful, but the whole fish were a pretty spectacular sight (here nestling with a fluke).

I bought the fillets, because, well, they’re easier to cook, and also easier to deal with when they arrive on the plate. I also knew that I wouldn’t have looked forward to scaling them, but at $6 a pound, they certainly would have pleased anyone’s budget.

There was slightly too much fish to fit inside my heavy oval long-handled copper pan, so I drafted my new round 13″ pan into service.

It was April, so it wasn’t surprising the there was no fresh oregano anywhere in the kitchen. Even while I was still at the Greenmarket I was thinking about what to substitute, and then I spotted a table of beautiful tiny basil plants. One of them was particularly beautiful, since a purple variety of what I’m assuming is a lettuce had hitched a ride to the market.

• six small (20 ounces, or 3 1/3-ounces each) bluefish fillets from Pura Vida Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, rubbed with olive oil and a little Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside a vintage 13″ tin-lined low-sided copper pan, sprinkled liberally with a very pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and a bit of crushed dried Espelette pepper (medium spiciness) from Alewife Farm, covered with thin slices of one small-to-medium red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, thin slices of 6 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, plus 8 or 9 pitted Gaeta olives from Eataly and several thin slices of both a Whole Foods Market organic lemon and a small Persian lime raised by David Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, the pan placed inside a 425º oven and baked for about 8 minutes (the fillets were quite small), the fillets arranged on the plates and garnished with basil leaves, roughly-torn by hand

• two handfuls of small ‘red mustard greens’ (in fact they were all quite purple) from Lani’s Farm, drizzled with a few drops of a very good olive oil, Badia a Coltibuono, Monti del Chianti from Chelsea Whole Foods, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly ground black pepper, a bit of lemon juice squeezed on top
• slices of a crunchy organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• the wine was an Australian (South Australia) white, Chardonnay Salena Overland 2017, from Garnet Wines (where it is unaccountably indicated as from Austria)
• the music was the Aaron Jay Kernis 1993 album, ‘Still Movement With Hymn’, Alistair Neale conducting the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra

I must have appeared flummoxed.

Warren said I should have the squid.

The fisherman was right. We love squid [58 results show up on this blog], it had been a while since I’d served it, it was definitely very fresh. preparing it as I do is a pretty low key operation, and it was delicious.

• once the oven had been heated to 400º, just over a pound of very fresh squid, bodies and tentacles, from American Seafood Company, rinsed and very carefully dried, quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until hot and its the cooking surface brushed with olive oil once the oil itself had become quite hot, immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a good section of a peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and a section of light-colored home-dried habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last season), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by a full 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods lemon and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside the hot oven and the squid roasted for just 5 minutes, by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, the squid removed and arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices that had been transferred to a footed glass sauce boat
• just under a pound of amazingly sweet Natasha potatoes from Phillips Farms, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with scissored fresh chives, also from Phillips Farms
• one bouquet of cavolo nero (aka lacinato, Tuscan kale, or black kale, and other names as well) from Eckerton Hill Farm, the leaves stripped from their stems (which is difficult when the cabbage leaves are as then as these were) wilted briefly inside a large heavy antique tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil after several halved cloves of garlic, also from Norwich Meadows, had first been heated there until fragrant and softened, the greens seasoned with salt and pepper and drizzled with a little more oil

• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany/Maremma) white, Santa Margherita Vermentino 2017, from Philippe Wines

• the music was a live recording of a tribute concert entitled ‘Glenn Gould – Remodels’, which was a part of a series of exhibitions and concerts dedicated to and marking the 2017 85th birthday of Glenn Gould, curated by Ryuichi Sakamoto, with Alva Noto+Nilo, Christian Fennesz, and Francesco Tristano

[the image of their Maremma vineyard is from the Tenuta Sassoregale site; the ‘Glenn Gould Gathering’ album cover is from Leticia García (twitter @Ms_Golightly)]

It seemed like a great excuse to modify what has long been my routine preparation of seared duck breast. I had some mushrooms left over from the night before, and combining them with the duck seemed like a fine idea.

The execution however wasn’t perfect for either duck or mushrooms, nor for one of the 2 vegetables that accompanied them. I’m blaming it on my haste in working at placing dinner on the table earlier than I have been lately, and strain of working on all 4 elements of the meal at just about the same time.

The flame under the duck was probably too hot, which left the skin and fat more charred than I would prefer (although, because of the fat and the sugar, without compromising the flavor), and it probably explains why it was necessary to keep the breast in the pan longer than normally in order to arrive at the same stage of doneness I as always.

I also went just a little too far in cooking the mushrooms and largely neglected the ‘crispy-ing’ and the seasoning of the cabbage. The potatoes were perfect however, but then the recipe is also.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm (the tenderloin removed, but seasoned like the rest of it, then fried very briefly near the end of the time the larger section was cooking, then halved), the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife and the entire breast rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing on the counter for about 45 minutes to an hour before being pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat [see above discussion] for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat strained can be used in cooking at another time, if desired), the breast removed when medium rare, cut crosswise into 2 portions and checked for the right doneness in the center, which means definitely no more than medium rare, and maybe even a bit less, drizzled with a little juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon and some olive oil, the halves transferred to very warm plates sitting on top of the oven a mushroom dish was prepared inside the pan where they had cooked
• the heat below the pan set to medium-high, all but 1 tablespoon of drippings removed and a little olive oil added before tossing in 4 or 5 ounces of sliced blue oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation and two sliced shallots from Phillips Farms, the two sautéed, stirring, until the mushrooms were tender, or for about 6 minutes, then seasoned with salt and pepper, 2 tablespoons of marsala (Pellegrino Superiore S.O.M. Dry) added, and stirred with the mushrooms until the juices had thickened, scraping up the browned bits, or about 1 minute, divided and arranged on the plates around the duck, mushrooms and duck sprinkled with parsley
• part of a cored Savoy cabbage (7 ounces?) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a heavy medium-size tin-lined copper pot until wilted but still a little crunchy, stirring occasionally, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, 5 or 6 slightly smashed juniper berries mixed in, a few tiny drops of balsamic vinegar added and the mix stirred over the heat for only a moment, arranged on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil

• six or seven ounces of small La Ratte potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, a pinch or two of crushed dried habanada pepper, arranged on a small seasoned unglazed ceramic Pampered Chef oven pan [see picture above], roasted in the oven for 15-20 minutes at 400º
• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) red, Hermanos Pecina Rioja Joven 2017, from Crush Wine
• the music was the album of works by the contemporary Spanish composer Alberto Posadas, ‘Erinnerungsspuren’ [memory traces], performed by pianist Florian Hoelscher

 

Crumply, curly things.

It would be something light, to follow a rich dinner the night before. But I didn’t know what I was going to cook until a few minutes before I started, except that it would include one of the interesting dried artisanal pastas we have in our larder (actually, it’s a former closet in our second bedroom). Then I talked to Barry about the relative merits of the other things we we might include in the dish. I soon had a plan, and he saw to an appropriate wine.

• eight ounces of Sfoglini ‘Whole Grain Reginetti’, cooked only barely al dente, added to a large vintage high-sided copper pot in which the sliced white of one early green garlic stem from Phillips Farms had been heated in a little olive oil over a medium flame until it had softened and become fragrant, and, following the pasta, a dozen or more pitted Gaeta olives from Buon Italia in Chelsea Market were tossed in, and a couple handfuls of ‘ruby streak’ mustard from Alewife Farm, a pinch of a crushed (dried) hickory-smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, and a bit of freshly-ground black pepper, then almost 3 quarters of a cup of reserved pasta water was added and the mix stirred over high heat for a minute or two, or until the liquid had emulsified, to make a proper sauce, some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge mixed in and the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, sprinkled with some pine nuts that had been browned only a little inside a small seasoned cast Iron pan, and garnished with more kale, plus more chopped lovage, finished with a little olive oil drizzled around the edges
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany/Chianti) red, Castello di Farnetella Chianti Colli Senesi 2016, from Philippe Wines

• the music was a marathon broadcast of an incredibly rich sequence of recordings of Billie Holiday performing, on WKCR, streaming, on the occasion of her birthday

 

[the image at the bottom, ‘Blue Billie’ 2002, is from LyleAshtonHarris.com]