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

They seem to almost always weigh the same, and that means about three ounces (at least when they come from Eastern Long Island), and every one is as beautiful as the other, with a silvery skin without scales, and fresh pinkish-white flesh.  Handily, they are virtually without bones.  What’s not to like?  Because of their subtle flavor and delicate texture, fillets of John Dory (aka le Poisson de St.Pierre, Pesce San Pietro, Petersfisch, Heringskőnig, Zeus Faber, or the-funny-shiny-one with-the-sourpuss-face) are probably best served very simply.  That is pretty much how I handled these, even if I indulged myself by using two herbs.

• John Dory fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, arranged in a lightly-oiled baking dish, sprinkled with lemon juice, seasoned with salt, and pepper, brushed with a mixture of olive oil, chopped parsley from Manhattan Fruit Exchange and scissored chives from Whole Foods, baked in a 350º oven, skin-side down for 5 minutes, turned over, the other side brushed with the same mixture and the pan returned to the oven for another 10 minutes, served with parsley sprigs (this is the recipe, except that I substituted olive oil for the butter indicated, mostly out of respect for the very-Mediterranean vegetables that accompanied the fish)
• a compote of fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, garlic from Migliorelli Farm, a small can of ‘Muti’ Baby Roma tomatoes, a melange of olives (from Whole Foods) and a small handful of capers, served with chopped parsley from Manhattan Fruit Exchange  (the recipe is mostly the creation of Mark Bittman)
• the wine was an American white, Buried Cane Middleton Family Columbia Valley Chardonnay 2013

We never tire of this recipe .  It’s ‘La Gricia’, generally described as a traditional dish of the shepherds in the hills of Lazio, the province of which Rome is the center.   The name comes from the name of a valley which is no longer inhabited, perhaps by either sheep or shepherds.  I first came across this regional classic when the amazing inimitable Fred Plotkin once described it in the New York Times many years ago (in fact almost 26 years to the day before I prepared it last night).  In 1989, fascinated by its simplicity and apparent authenticity, I immediately cut the recipe out of the page and put it into my file, but I don’t think that I actually used it until years later, after we found ourselves dining at the Trastevere restaurant featured in Fred’s article.

That means that we first enjoyed it in 1996, in the form of Spaghetti alla Gricia, although we did not know its association with the clipping back at home, while sitting at a table in the little street outside Piccola Trattoria da Lucia.  We went back to the address in the Vicolo del Mattonato two days later, and at least once again the next time we were in Rome a year after that.  The founder, Lucia Antonangeli, had served ”la cucina de na vorta” [the cooking of once upon a time] at her eponymous trattoria from 1939 until she died in 1967.  Her grandson, Renato Bizzarri, who had himself succeeded his mother Silvana Cestier in running the restaurant, recognized us as soon as we sat down.  Now that’s a civilization!

Some time after we had returned to New York I found the old clipping in my ‘pasta’ file, amazed at the coincidence of our two encounters with La Gricia.  The recipe had come home to stay.

Since then the dish has become a standard – and a great favorite – in our own kitchen; I make sure that I always have the ingredients on hand, including, most essentially, a chunk of guanciale in the freezer.  If you don’t have access to guanciale, pancetta is almost as good, but it must be in chunk form.  I also prefer to use penne rigate, although a reasonably thick long pasta is probably just as correct, and perhaps as good, as the short, ridged form.

• the Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano penne liscia from Eatlay was boiled until barely al dente, some of the liquid reserved and the pasta drained and mixed into a large pot in which 8 ounces of guanciale from Buon Italia, cut in 1/2 to 1 inch square pieces, had been heated with 4 tablespoons of olive oil for about a minute, a bit of pasta water then added to the pot, everything stirred for a minute to emulsify the sauce; several tablespoons of freshly-ground black pepper added and stirred into the mix, which was then removed from the heat and about 3 or 4 tablespoons of roughly-shredded pecorino, also from Buon Italia, tossed in, the pot left standing for 30 seconds or so, the dish then served in shallow bowls, with more cheese and black pepper on the side
• the wine was an Italian white, Le Salse Verdicchio di Matelica 2013

The recipe is basically a (very basic) Thomas Keller formula.  I added some halved cherry tomatoes, both to introduce a bit of color, and to save the fruit from advancing beyond its prime sweetness.

• cod fillets from American Seafood (two, which I cut into two and one half pieces for each portion), brought to room temperature and seasoned with salt, the top of each piece brushed with dijon mustard mixed with a little water, dipped in a mixture of homemade breadcrumbs and finely-chopped parsley from Eataly, browned briefly, crumb side down, in a heavy iron pan with olive oil, then transferred to a 325º oven and cooked until the fish begins to flake; near the end of the cooking time I added halved cherry tomatoes from Shushan Hydro Farm, arranging them on the fish sections after they were plated
• small Brussels sprouts from from John D. Maderna Farms (yes, in January!), tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, roasted in a 400º oven for twenty minutes or so
• the wine was a French white, Vin Passion Château du Champ des Treilles Sainte-Foy Bordeaux 2012

Still trying to address my stash of root vegetables,  I feel that I made some progress with this meal, whose whole was even greater than the sum of its parts, even as the parts were pretty terrific.  I would be happy to take credit any day of the year for a dinner that tasted this good, but certainly much of its success was purely chance.  The three major elements and the treatment of each, except perhaps for the duck breast, to which I was committed as soon as I decided to defrost it last night, were pretty much cobbled together at the last minute.

• a small (11 ounces for the two of us) duck breast from Pat laFrieda, purchased at Eataly, its fatty side scored with hash marks and brushed with a mix of salt, pepper, and a bit of sugar, and allowed to rest for about half an hour before being pan-fried, finished (four minutes or so on each side) with a squeeze of lemon, some chopped rosemary from Queens County Farm, and a drizzle of olive oil
• small golden beets from Eataly, trimmed and scrubbed, the stem end then peeled, the roots cut into thirds (yeah, ‘thirds’, just to make it difficult, but mostly because of their middling size), tossed with olive oil and fennel, then spread, rounded side down, onto an oven pan on a surface of kosher salt, and roasted at 450º for about 45 minutes, sprinkled with freshly-ground black pepper, served with shavings of a good Parmesan cheese
• Savoy cabbage  from Hoeffner Farms, outer leaves only (in order to preserve the remainder of the cabbage for another day), sliced very thinly, seasoned with salt and pepper and sautéed in butter over medium high heat for about 25 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until tender and the leaves had begun to brown and crisp slightly at the edges
• the wine was a Spanish red, Vivanco Crianza Rioja 2010
• the happy, generous music was Mozart and Da Ponte’s ‘Le Nozze di Figaro’, with René Jacobs conducting Concerto Köln and Collegium Vocale Köln

Although they start out in in the northeastern part of the great “Southern Sea”, and not the Atlantic, Salmon fillets, (usually previously-frozen, from Whole Foods) are a reliable alternative when I’m unable to bring home fresh local seafood from the Greenmarket.  I missed my fish monger both on Saturday and today, presumably because the weather over the last few days meant fishing was pretty much out of the question, at least if you weren’t operating from large trawlers.

In picking salmon, I had also decided that it would offer one of the best excuses for serving some of the sturdy root vegetables I’ve been accumulating lately.  Unfortunately there’s a limit to how many I can incorporate in one dish, and tonight I was more interested in using whatever vegetable I had in the crisper that was most likely to spoil soonest.  The pairing of salmon, with a spicy coating, and fennel (which is not even a root), roasted slowly with nothing more than garlic, turned out to be inspired even if it had been determined largely by necessity.

• a five-ounce fillet of wild Sockeye salmon from Whole Foods, seasoned with salt and pepper, rubbed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, fried over medium-high heat for a few minutes on each side in an enameled, cast iron pan
• a generous-sized bulb of fennel from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, split into twelve wedges, sautéed in a large iron pan over medium high heat with chiles and fennel seeds until the fennel began to color, then, with garlic added, the heat lowered and the pan covered, cooked for about ten minutes more, stirring occasionally, a generous amount of chopped fennel fronds added at the end [recipe from “Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe”]
• the wine was a California red, Meiomi Pinot Noir 2012 Santa Barbara/Sonoma/Monterey