This is the German-isch meal I had anticipated in the immediately previous post.  It was to be an excuse to enjoy a pretty decent riesling, and an all-too-infrequent visit to the food of the Wagner ancestral Heimat.

The wine was in fact more than pretty decent, the food as well, and das Kocherei meant more than a little Sehnsucht nach dem Rheinland.

• one twelve-ounce smoked rainbow trout from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery in the Union Square Greenmarket, portioned for two servings, accompanied by a cream sauce, a mix of créme fraîche, a little plain yoghurt, both from Ronnybrook Farm Dairy in the Greenmarket, a little softened rich unsalted Kerrygold Irish butter from Westside Market, finely sliced scallions from John D. Madura Farm, organic lemon juice, ground white pepper, a bit of sea salt, and chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm
• four potato pancakes (kartoffelpuffer), part of a new frozen food venture being introduced by Franca Tantillo and Brian Zuckerberg at Berried Treasures, also in the Greenmarket, defrosted, heated on top of the stove in olive oil and a little butter, and served with a simple applesauce I had cooked for half an hour late that afternoon using 4 aging and slightly bruised small apples from Berried Treasures, some Red Jacket apple cider and a smaller amount of Eve’s Cidery‘s ‘Bittersweet‘ (“naturally sparkling cider; fermented in the bottle”), both from the Greenmarket, a little turbinado sugar and a pinch of cinnamon freshly grated from a stick I keep in the spice cabinet for these special occasions
• a red cabbage salad, arranged on a plate to the side, a somewhat loose interpretation of a Kurt Guttenbrunner recipe which I had cut out of ‘New York’ Magazine 10 years back, using part of a small cabbage from Paffenroth Gardens Farm and one aging Rhode Island Greening apple from Berried Treasures which I had been keeping in the refrigerator since early in the fall
• the bread was a small Eric Kayser multigrain and multiseed loaf, ‘Pain aux Cereales‘; the accompanying butter (this is Germany, after all) was unsalted Kerrygold Irish butter, from Westside Market
• the wine was a German (Nahe) riesling, from Kruger-Rumpf , Münsterer Dautenpflänzer Riesling Spätlese 2014, purchased from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• the music was Anton Bruckner, Symphony No.5, performed by Giuseppe Sinopoli and the Staatskapelle Dresden

looks a bit like mashed potatoes, but I actually don’t do mashed potatoes

 

..and this was so much better.

The cod was from Captain Phil himself, whom I had manager to catch at his family’s fish stall in the Union Square Greenmarket where I headed minutes after our train arrived at Grand Central from our wonderful, not-so-very-upstate Thanksgiving break.

It was 3:17 when I arrived, pretty late in the day for the market, even for me.  I hadn’t gone out looking for seafood, but in pursuit of a vegetable to accompany a dinner of smoked freshwater trout, already resting in the refrigerator. The plan was to enjoy some good German wine on a Saturday evening. I was only going to I say hello to the Karlins and their fish, but then I saw that they still had some gorgeous specimens remaining, and I also spotted the fisherman himself, on one of his rare appearances in the city.

I love cod.  I bought some cod.

I also like cauliflower very much, agreeing with Pliny the Elder, a naturalist, who (before he had died in the eruption of Vesuvius, had also managed to learn a thing or two about seafood, including cod, with which he may have become acquainted through Romano Britain contacts) wrote, “Ex omnibus brassicae generibus suavissima est cyma“/”The most pleasant tasting of all cabbages is the [young cabbage sprout]”  I don’t know what I was thinking when, also yesterday, I came across two small, perfect green specimens, perfectly, tenderly embraced by their outer leaves, but only took home one of them.

Once I was putting the meal together, I realized that, since our modest table wasn’t inside a fancy boite, even if I included all of the perfectly edible leaves and the upper stem, my little Brassica bud probably wouldn’t be enough vegetable for both of us. Maybe a garnish, but not really a proper ‘side’.

My solution was to dip into the paper bags where the boiling potatoes hid out.  There weren’t enough red ‘new’ potatoes (which I felt I should sacrifice before they grew into ‘old’), so I added to the pot a few yellowish Kartöffelchen I had picked up that day.

• an almost perfect one-pound rectangle cut from a cod fillet, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to room temperature, divided into two equal pieces and seasoned with salt on both sides, the top (the former skin side) brushed with a little French dijon mustard which had been mixed with a very small amount of water to make it easier to spread (on that side alone), the pieces dipped in a mixture of the very last of my current stash of homemade breadcrumbs mixed with some finely-chopped parsley from Paffenroth Farms, then after a few crumbs were sprinkled on the other, open flesh side mostly for appearances, browned briefly, but only on the mustard and breadcrumb mix side, in a little olive oil inside a tin-lined copper au gratin pan, transferred to a 325º oven and cooked until the fish began to flake (about 8 or 9 minutes) [the recipe is based on Thomas Keller’s ‘Wild Cod en Persillade‘]
• one clove of garlic heated until pungent in a cast iron pan, over medium-low heat, then one rinsed, and filleted salt-packed anchovy stirred in until it ‘melted’, followed by the addition of some crushed dried peperoncino, one small Italian green cauliflower, or broccoflower, from Stokes Farm, separated into florettes, the top, or tender part of the stem sliced thinly, cooked until the vegetable had almost softened, and finally the outer leaves (which had been cut into one or two-inch sections), added, and the mix cooked for another two minutes
• three small oval red (inside and out) potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and four small round yellow (inside) German Butterball potatoes from Berried Treasures, boiled in salted water inside one of my old glass pots, drained and dried in the still-warm pot, rolled in a little olive oil, and sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm and chopped parsley from Paffenroth Farms
• the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
• the music was Schubert’s ‘Rosamunde, Fürstin von Cypern, incidental music to Helmina von Chézy’s Play’, D. 797 (Op. 26), performed by the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig, conducted by Kurt Mazur, with Elly Ameling and the Rundfunkchor Leipzig

 

so very Puglian, and that’s a very good thing

 

It’s a classic pasta preparation from Puglia, and I’ve prepared it many times, but last night when I began to revisit orecchiette con cime di rapa I had almost forgotten that this particular recipe, which I had started working with with many years ago, calls for fresh bread crumbs rather than dry. Unfortunately, at the time I was reminded of this, because I was looking pretty closely at the printed text of a dish absent for some time from our table, I didn’t have a single fresh crumb in the kitchen.

I haven’t been buying bread as often as I used to, so, for the same reason why there was no bread, there were barely enough homemade dry breadcrumbs in the overhead cabinet.

The dish works very well with the dry, but fresh crumbs, briefly sautéed like these, would be more fun, just as crunchy, but with a little bounce in the bite.

And then there was some excellent cime di rapa.

 

• half of a pound of an excellent artisanal Puglian pasta, Benedetto Cavalieri ‘Single Orecchiette’ and half a pound of broccoli rabe from Lani’s Farm, bottom stems removed and the rest of the greens roughly chopped, all boiled together in a large pot of salted water until the pasta was al dente, a cup of the water reserved just before the orecchiette was drained and tossed into a separate deep heavy pot in which 3 garlic cloves, 3 salted anchovies (rinsed and filleted), and more than one not-so-very-hot Cayenne thin red pepper from Oak Grove Plantation had been slowly heated until the garlic had colored lightly, everything (including a judicious amount of the reserved pasta water) then tossed/stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients before being served, sprinkled with half of a cup of dry homemade breadcrumbs which had been browned earlier in olive oil with a pinch of salt
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) red, Corvo Nero d’Avola 2012
• the music was Sibelius Symphony No.5, Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic

Everything here was at the peak of its flavor, and, since the prep was pretty simple all the way around, I would have found it pretty hard to mess up anything.

Technically the triad included two cruciferous vegetables, but they were different enough from each other to be treated as two distinct ‘greens’, and they were a terrific accompaniment to the fish.

The swordfish steak was buttery, lemony, and herbal, the Brussels sprouts crispy and nutty, and the kale was sweet and almost chewy before it almost melted in the mouth.  There wasn’t a great deal of color in this entrée, but I remember that’s pretty much the deal once fall arrives.

The swordfish recipe came from a ‘Bon Appetit’ in 20015.  The treatment of the Brussels sprouts and the kale is my own.

• one 9-ounce swordfish steak from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, cut into two pieces, dried, sprinkled with salt and a mix of different peppercorns, coarsely ground, browned in olive oil on one side (about 3 minutes) inside an enameled cast iron pan, then turned over and transferred to a 400º oven for maybe about 7 or 8 minutes, or until barely cooked, placed on warm plates while a seasoned butter (2 tablespoons of softened butter, a mix of ground pepper, a bit of salt, some finely-chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, and chopped parsley from John D. Madura Farm) was added to the pan and, over medium heat, and scraped together with the cooking juices to collect the brown bits from the bottom before the sauce was poured over the steaks
• Brussels sprouts from S. & S.O. Farms, tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, and roasted in a 400º oven for about half an hour, finished with a squeeze of lemon and some more olive oil
• loose curly purple kale leaves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, wilted with olive oil in which two slightly-crushed Calabrian Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) white, Monopole Cune white Rioja wine 2014
• the music was a profound performance of Sibelius, Symphony No.4, by the New York Philharmonic conducted by Leonard Bernstein, and it was played twice!

it’s looking like we’ve left summer behind us

 

I occasionally check out the display case in the Whole Foods meat department when I pass it on the way to goodies at the back of the store that I can’t get at the Greenmarket. The other day a small sign in front of a row of veal chops attracted my attention, especially since I didn’t remember ever seeing veal in the store before.  A printed note just below the price said that the meat had come from a ‘Provitello Farms’, in Elba, New York.  That was the kind of specific local sourcing I would not have expected from an emporium the size of Whole Foods, so I did some research when I got home, to see what it was about.

A few days later I was back.  It was a Sunday, I had made no other arrangements for dinner, and I had decided, as an omnivore and someone very conscious of the sources of the food Barry and I consume, to be as reasonable as possible on the subject of veal, meaning, essentially, the morality of its consumption.  I was acquainted with all of the arguments on both sides, but my family history, my understanding of the place of a young calf, otherwise useless to any market, in the broader context of domesticated livestock, and my awareness of the huge variations to be found in the treatment of this particular animal, led me back to the meat counter I had investigated earlier in the week.

A word on the potatoes.  They came from Berried Treasures in the Greenmarket, where they are labelled ‘Pata Chaucha’ (my translation would be ‘new potato’).  It was my first full outing with an Andean heirloom variety whose seeds had been given to the farmer, Franca Tantillo, by an Ecuadorean, David, one of the people who works with Dave Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island.  As new potatoes, they might properly have been stored in a cooler place, like the crisper drawer, but last Wednesday  I had put them inside a paper bag in my larder.  When I pulled them out I noted to myself once again that they would not have won any beauty contests; they might even have aged in those few days.  After I had roasted them however I realized beauty was not the story. They were absolutely delicious, incredibly nutty, and with a texture not unlike the very best grilled or roasted eggplant, but juicier.  Wonderful.

• two small veal loin chops from Jurian Bartlese‘s small Provitello Farms, in Elva, New York purchased at Whole Foods [its source, and the arguments for its production explained pretty well here], dried, rubbed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, brought full to room temperature, seared in an small cast iron enameled pan, rubbed with crushed Calabrian Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, roasted in a 375º oven for about eight minutes, turning once, allowed to rest for five minutes before being drizzled with the pan juices, a squeeze of lemon, olive oil, and a scattering of finely-chopped young scallions from John D. Madura Farm, and chopped thyme from Hawthorne Valley Farm
• South American Pata Chaucha (heirloom potatoes) from Berried Treasures, scrubbed, halved, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and a mix of chopped sage from Norwich Meadows Farm and chopped rosemary from Hoeffner Farms
• loose curly purple kale leaves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, wilted with olive oil in which two slightly-crushed Calabrian Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Piedmont) red, Brovia Dolcetto d’Alba Vignavillej 2012
• the music was, first, Mahler’s Symphony No.1, performed by Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic, followed by Christopher Rouse’s ‘Der Gerettene Alberich‘

minimal, ungenerous? but it took so long to eat that it still felt like enough

 

There was also a primi, so the relatively small secondo seen in the image above would probably have felt like enough for a satisfying dinner even if we hadn’t spent a lot of time peeling those five or six fresh shrimp.  Grilling with the shells however, even pan grilling, is important for realizing the full taste of some wonderful fresh decapods.

I arrived at the Greenmarket just in time to grab the last of Jean Claude’s shrimp on Friday.  Since they weighed in at somewhat less than what I would have preferred, I just added a first course to our dinner;  this one could not have been easier to prepare, and it featured another great sea creature.

• less than half a pound of fresh whole Hudson Valley ECO shrimp, cut all of the way up the middle of their backs with a small kitchen shears (but still retaining the shells, as well as the heads and the tails), tossed with perhaps only two thirds of a dressing consisting of 1 large garlic clove from Northshire Farm mashed in a mortar along with a fourth of a teaspoon of salt and mixed with 2 tablespoons of lemon juice, ground black pepper, and most of one not-so-hot Cayenne thin red pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, finely-chopped, then one fourth of a cup of olive oil poured into the blend in a slow stream, while stirring, to emulsify it, and almost 2 teaspoons of super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia added at the end, and left to marinate for less than 15 minutes; one lemon, cut into segments, lightly brushed with a little of the dressing, pan grilled until grill marks appear, and transferred to plates, immediately replaced on the pan by the shrimp, turned once, for about 4 minutes, or until cooked, served with the remaining dressing
• husk cherries from Norwich Meadows Farm, tossed with a handful of torn delicious ‘wild’ arugula from Lani’s Farm, dressed together with good olive oil, a drizzle of organic lemon, salt, and pepper, served in a bowl on the side [note; once again I forgot top halve the little fruits, which made picking them up about as tedious as removing the shells from the shrimp]

 

Before the shrimp we enjoyed a primi which was simply what had remained from the main course of a meal we had a few days earlier.

• two cazuelas holding a small amount of the smoked eel pasta served last Sunday, a little reserved pasta water stirred in, slipped into a 350º oven for about ten minutes, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with a crunchy pangratatto
• the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Le Salse Verdicchio di Matelica 2014
• the music was Poppy Ackroyd

thinking the award for most photogenic fish fillet goes to the oily fish family

 

In the first minutes after arriving at the fish stall in the Greenmarket I thought my choice would be swordfish or blackfish/tautog, maybe a sea bass or hake fillet, but when I saw these beautiful herring I couldn’t resist their beauty, even though I had no idea what I was going to do with them.

In the evening I went for very simple approach, one which involved lots of lemon, and a good helping of chiles, and tamed the fish with a tomato-caper salsa, and twice-cooked potatoes. It was very similar to the treatment I had often given to mackerel, originally a Sicilian-inspired recipe from Michael White.

seasoned, ready for the grill pan

 

plated

 

• eight one-and-a-half-ounce herring fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, washed, dried, dusted with the zest of one and a half lemons, one and a half dried peperoncini, crushed, salt, and freshly ‘ground’ (I always use an ancient wooden mortar) pepper, placed skin side down on a ridged grill pan, cooked for 1 or 2 minutes, turned and cooked for 1 or 2 minutes more, drizzled with olive oil, served with lemon ‘eighths’, and a tomato-caper salsa
• a salsa of halved red grape tomatoes from the gentler southern jersey climes of Kernan Farms, tossed with olive oil, salted capers which had been rinsed and drained, some finely-sliced fresh garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, lemon juice, salt, and pepper,
• four German Butterball potatoes from Berried Treasures, scrubbed and boiled in salted water until just tender, then drained and dried, cut into approximately one-inch sections, cooked in 3 tablespoons of oil over high heat until beginning to brown lightly (about 5 minutes), the flame turned down, one sliced medium clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm added and cooked with the potatoes for about 3 more minutes, or until both potatoes really are brown and garlic crisp, seasoned with salt and pepper, served alongside the fish and salsa
• the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) white, Casa de Mouraz, Dão Blanco ‘Encruzado’ 2013, from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• the music was an album of works by the almost-forgotten eighteenth-century composer Marianna Martines (hers is an amazing story)

nightshades, with a little fish on the side

 

The meal ended up a great mix of flavors (and colors, clearly) but it was almost entirely fortuitous, to the extent that I feel my role was only to only to guide it into place.

I had bought the tuna in the morning, and the red grape tomatoes in the picture, far more than are shown here.  I expected to use the tuna that night, but not the tomatoes, since I already had some golden cherry tomatoes ripening on the windowsill.

Once I started assembling the meal I realized that 10 tiny cherry tomatoes wouldn’t even be enough for a proper garnish, so I added some of my red grape purchase to the bowl where I had put them.  Although mostly accidental, the mix turned out to be inspired; they made a great team.

The choice of another vegetable was almost a tossup, the decision ultimately resting on deciding what I already had should be used first, but at the same time would go well with the tuna.

I had been attracted to the eggplant on a Greenmarket visit two days earlier.  These four happened to be the very last of the larger examples remaining in the plastic pan in the farm stall. I thought the sign had said ‘Fairy eggplants’, although I should have known that that wasn’t what they were.   But I was in a hurry, so I just paid for them and headed home.

They turned out to be absolutely delicious, at least as good as any other type I’ve cooked, and my experience with eggplant has always been very, very good.  It was only after dinner that I took the time to investigate on line what they really were.  I found that they were Thai eggplant, of which, I’m not surprised, there are many varieties.

Supposedly Thai eggplant becomes increasingly bitter as it ages.  These had obviously not aged.

I love the vegetables.

I had already washed and dried a little arugula, which I thought I would somehow marry with the golden tomatoes, but I realized that didn’t sound promising, and it was about then that I decided to marry the two different tomatoes.

The arugula was good enough to stand on its own, so I put it into bowls on the side, by itself, very simply dressed.

• one tuna steak from Blue Moon Fish Company, divided into two, rubbed with a mixture of dry fennel seed and one dried peperoncino, ground together, additionally seasoned with salt and pepper, then pan-grilled for only a little more than a minute or so on each side, finished with a good squeeze of lemon and a drizzle of olive oil
• four small Thai eggplants from Lani’s Farm, halved, seasoned by being placed face-down in a shallow bowl containing a mix chopped fresh oregano from Rise & Root Farm, salt, pepper, and olive oil, then rolled in the marinade, pan grilled until tender, basting occasionally
• a mix of golden cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures and grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms (in Southern New Jersey), halved, rolled in olive oil, salt, pepper, a tiny drizzle of white balsamic, and chopped tarragon from Keith’s Farm
• arugula from Lani’s Farm, washed, dried, torn, dressed with good olive oil, salt, pepper, and a small drizzle of organic lemon
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Fiano Taburno Sannio 2014, purchased at Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• the music was Paula Matthusen’s ‘Pieces for People’

This can be put onto the table in half an hour; no exaggeration. Unable to give any more time than that to preparing dinner, I did just that two nights ago.

You have to have all the ingredients, or similar ingredients, perhaps even more ingredients, already in your kitchen.  Although it may not be really necessary, since the pasta cooks in just 2-3 minutes, it helps to be able to get fresh cold water from the tap without having to let it run first.  [As we don’t have that, and I suspect it’s because we’re the only people in our apartment line of who use their kitchen, to minimize my preparation time, I drew water for the pasta pot earlier in the evening]

• ‘caccio e pepe’ ravioli from Eataly, finished in a pan with olive oil, more black pepper, part of one whole peperoncini from Buon Italia, crushed, some of the reserved pasta water added and emulsified over low heat, slices of one orange heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm introduced, gently tossed with the pasta, the mix placed in two bowls, chopped oregano from Rise & Root Farm sprinkled over the top (the photo was snapped before I had drizzled a bit of more olive oil on the dish)
• the wine was a California (Central Valley) white, JC van Staden Pinot Grigio 2014
• the music was ‘Monk Mix (CD1): remixes and Interpretations of Music by Meredith Monk‘

not an Advent wreath, but it does look festive; probably tastes much better

 

For years I had been trying very hard to find a way to use salsify.  The vegetable had long fascinated me, at least partly for its homeliness. The fact that I could find almost nothing in the way of a recipe in any of my books or files didn’t help.  It also didn’t help that I was unaware that ‘oyster plant’ was another name for the same vegetable, meaning that it was actually under my nose all along.

I had often seen black salsify in the Greenmarket, but the stalks always seemed to be too narrow to deal with easily if you aren’t just going to add it to a soup or a stew, especially since the vegetable has to be peeled.

Then last week, when I spotted this beautiful row of white salsify displayed in the Greenmarket by one of my favorite farms, I finally decided to take some home.  I first picked up five or six, put them in a bag, and had already exchanged some banter about the root before I asked how much they would cost.  I heard, “20 dollars a pound”, and thought it was a part of the banter.  It wasn’t.

I thought, wow, vegetables sure have come a long way since the days when they only grew (and often died) inside supermarkets, and apparently I’m not the only one who esteems them above meat today.  I returned all but one stalk to the row where I had seen it, but three days later I returned for one more.  I still didn’t know what I would do with the vegetable, but I didn’t think I wanted to be caught short when I did.

Now I wish I had bought four.

Last night, starting too late as usual, but interested in marrying the scallops with the salsify, I looked on line once again, I found a mere sketch of an attractive recipe, but one which I decided I could work with, and it could put a meal on the table in about an hour.

The original recipe is so simple it seems like it’s intended as only a framework for others to play with.  In my version there were some serious liberties taken, one of which included a substitute for the watercress.  I didn’t have watercress, but I did have some extraordinarily luscious arugula. Those very fresh greens were so good that I ended up using a reckless amount, which meant I had to place it next to the scallops and salsify, not on them;  I decided on a circle – only for the geometric efficiency of course.

Other changes included dressing the arugula with good oil, salt, crushed pepper, and a drizzle of organic lemon.  I also Pan grilled the scallops, as I do usually, and, especially because they were fairly small already, I did not halve them.  I parboiled the thinly-sliced salsify, then sautéed it, but next time I’ll simply slice it into ¼-inch segments and caramelize them in butter. The next time I will also try for more salsify, and larger scallops (I won’t halve them), and whatever green (or ‘red’) I use will be in a smaller amount, and sprinkled over the salsify (but maybe not the shellfish).

I want to ask everyone out there reading this to please ask for salsify when you’re in your local greenmarket.  It’s a delicious vegetable, and its preparation is absolutely nothing to be afraid of, but It’s pretty expensive right now, and I can only think it has something to do with rarity.

• two handsome salsify roots from John D. Madura Farm, scrubbed, peeled, cut into thin slices, blanched, drained, and dried on paper towels, sautéed in olive oil until the slices began to turn brown, then seasoned with salt and ‘India Special Extra Bold’ Tellicherry peppercorns, and spread onto the center of two plates, topped with 14 small scallops (nine ounces) which had been washed, rinsed and dried, seasoned with salt and the same ‘special’ peppercorns, pan grilled, turning once, finished with a squeeze of lemon juice and drizzled with olive oil
• very fresh, very, very sweet and tasty young arugula from Lani’s Farm, washed, dried, and spread around the circumference of the plates, drizled with a little good olive oil, salt, pepper, and a squeeze of lemon juice
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay Clarksburg 2014
• the music was Michel van der Aa’s Violin Concerto