It was the second time I had cooked this delicious simple dish, an adaptation of the one found on this site.  The extraordinary complexity of flavors, considering the minimal list of ingredients, was still a surprise; it was just as good this time around, and just about impossible to be satisfied with just one serving.  We didn’t have a cheese course.

• two large cloves of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced thinly, heated in a deep pan over medium-high flame, along with one finely-chopped not-so-hot Cayenne thin red pepper (with the seeds this time) from Oak Grove Plantation, until the garlic was almost starting to color, pieces of boned smoked eel from Blue Moon Fish Company added and tossed until warmed through, half of some savory pangrattato* prepared a little earlier mixed in and combined, the cooked and drained pasta (18 ounces of Setaro spaghetti chitarra from Buon Italia), added to the pan, tossed with the eel and pangratto and stirred over low heat for a couple of minutes, adding about a cup of the reserved pasta water while doing so, served in low bowls, where it was sprinkled with more pangratto and finished with ‘scissored’ chives (Goodness Garden, New Hampton, NY) from Union Market

*The preparation of the pangratto involved adding about a third of a cup of homemade breadcrumbs to about a fourth of a cup of olive oil in which two more thinly-sliced Norwich Meadows Farm garlic cloves and 3 anchovies from Buon Italia had been heated for a short while, stirring for 4-5 minutes, the mixture then drained on paper toweling and brought to room temperature

• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Insolia 2013 from Philippe Wine in Chelsea, which is located about 50 yards from our front door
• the music was that of Germaine Tailleferre, Chamber Music & Piano Music, the only female member of the group of French composers known as ‘Les Six‘; the music is terrific, and her story is very much of the twentieth century

We rarely have anything but a pretty basic breakfast, even on weekends, probably because we already get up so late that we don’t want to put off the day any more than we would already have by then. But sometimes a breakfast can’t really be thought of as ‘putting off the day’.  This one, of bacon, eggs, toast, and a few trimmings, was very much part of our day this past Sunday, and it turned out to be a super one (breakfast and day).  Besides, we started our Sunday so late that we didn’t have to steal from it later in the afternoon with a proper lunch, even if we suspected we would not start to eat dinner until after ten o’clock.

I love eggs, at any time of the day, and in any form, but I usually just can’t leave them alone without some device – or devices.  In this case it meant herbs and spices, some only a little more exotic than others.

The herbs inside the yellow cup in the picture above were a mix of parsley from John D. Madura Farm, thyme from Phillips Farm, oregano from Rise & Root Farm, plus tarragon and winter savory, both from Stokes Farm.  The spice in the red one was some crushed very complex-flavored and highly-pungent ‘India Special Extra Bold’ Tellicherry peppercorns (“Special refers to longer maturation on the vine, the extra bold refers to larger size.”) by Penzeys Spices.  After the picture was taken I also included a container of whole peperoncini from Buon Italia, crushed.

The salt was Maldon.

Both the eggs and the bacon (thick, country-style) were from Millport Dairy, in the Union Square Greenmarket, and the European-style (more butter fat) butter was ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter, Unsalted’, with 12g (18%) total fat, from Westside Market on Seventh Avenue.

The toast originated as part of a loaf of 7-grain bread from Eataly.

After preparing the condiments, the first thing I did was to heat the bacon very slowly in an enormous cast iron pan, which meant that less fat had accumulated after it had been cooked, and I fried the eggs in most of what had remained, reserving the rest for use in another meal. Barry, the toastmaster, began his duties just as I removed the bacon from the pan.

One tradition however that we observe every Sunday is starting off the day with music that is somehow ‘Sunday-ish’, at least in the Christian tradition. It’s a tradition from which each of us fully emerged, alive, thank goodness, long ago.  The choice of this music is made not out of nostalgia, but rather for the opportunity to listen to a part of the Western world’s great musical canon which is insufficiently represented in concert, and to listen to it in [at least a part of] the context for which it was originally written.

For me, the earliest form of this tradition began in Europe in 1961, when I first lived outside the U.S. and had ready access to live classical music performance, churches included.  In Munich, two years later, now a fully-confirmed atheist, I often went on Sundays with one or more friends to listen to music performed inside one of the shiny-new recently-restored great Munich churches, my aesthetic senses now proudly – and perhaps sadly – free of the veil of religious devotion (although understanding the powerful symbiosis of the two).  There we could listen to singers, a chorus, and a real orchestra performing some of the world’s most glorious (although even then becoming increasingly esoteric) music inside the kind of great spaces for which it was intended.  This sort of experience is not easily found in New York City today (and likely never was); when it is, there is usually an admission price involved.

Yesterday at home, with a bow to Beirut and to Paris, we played a recording of Gabriel Fauré’s ‘Requiem’.

seconds after the shrimp were placed in a seasoned 10-pound cast iron pan

 

With the arrival of Eco Shrimp Garden to the Friday Union Square Greenmarket, I now can buy fish on a single day which can serve as meals for two consecutive days. The very fresh decapoda, pulled out of water the same day they are sold, can keep for the next (actually, and even beyond, I understand) without any taste sacrifice.  This means that we are able to enjoy that night whatever I select from the Pura Vida stand, and still enjoy a seafood meal the next, even if I can’t make it to Union Square Saturday.

I wish I could claim it as my own, but the excellent recipe I used came from Mark Bittman; it was in a feature article inside the FOOD section of the New York Times, ‘The Pantry Made Me Do It: Shrimp, Simply Spanish‘.  The print version included the simple recipe text; unfortunately the link above only includes a four-minute-plus video, and in it Bittman ends up adding tomato, which I did not do.

This  was more than a recipe however. In his piece Bittman’s describes his attitude toward stocking his kitchen, and making do – or, in his case, much more than just making do – with what is on hand.  It’s an attitude to which I have aspired for a long time, and which I seem to be gradually obtaining. Next there was my happy discovery that I actually had on hand last night every ingredient he used in the recipe with which he illustrated his point. I was thinking, ‘who has a dried chipotle pepper, saffron, and good cumin seed together in the kitchen at the same time?’  Maybe I really am on my way to chef-hood.

 

• one teaspoon of chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, heated inside a (13 1/2″) cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, followed by the addition of a pinch of saffron, one whole chipotle pepper from Northshire Farm (do not squish) and a teaspoon of freshly-ground cumin seed, all of it stirred for a minute or two, then three-quarters of a pound of Hudson Valley farmed shrimp from Eco Shrimp Garden added, seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit, and the shrimp cooked until firm, turned once or twice in the meantime, served with a squeeze of lemon, and garnished with parsley from John D. Madura Farm
• yellow pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, reheated later in a bit of olive oil, in which thin slices of a small shallot had been warmed, then seasoned with salt and pepper and finished with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
• the music was Germaine Tailleferre, chamber and piano music

cute spuds

 

No, not all white fish tastes the same.  Like us, the Tilefish loves crab and lobster, which may help to explain why we love Tilefish.  But, contrary to what some people say or write about it, while the flesh is lean, tender and particularly sweet, no one will mistake it for crab or lobster;  more like cod that’s gone to heaven.

The vegetables accompanying the fish included a beautiful, very tender bouquet of collards I had bought a few days before, plus one ‘fluke’: ten baby ‘Papa Chaucha’, pressed into my hand that afternoon by one of my favorite farmers; both were Greenmarket finds of course. They were delicious; earthy and creamy, I’m definitely going back for more next week.

NOTE: ‘Papa Chaucha’ [‘ancient potato’] is a name which I believe covers all of the ancient breeds of potato, originally found all over Central and South America, although the Andes may be a more specific geography for these particular [cultivars?].  Franca’s Berried Treasures stall sign described her ‘Papa Chaucha’ (she had both these very small examples, and some larger) as Ecuadorean, added that the seed was given to her by one of the people who works with Dave Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island on one of his visits, and asked her customers for feedback.

• the basic Tilefish recipe, which I’ve used on more than one occasion, is this one from Melissa Clark, in which she generously suggests using any number of various herbs and several allium possibilities;  I used one 16-ounce tilefish fillet from Pura Vida, halved, well-dried, seasoned, placed it in several tablespoons of butter melted inside my new/old copper gratin pan, basted it with sliced young leeks from Ryder Farm (rather than scallions specified in the recipe, which I did not have) and, in the end, more than half a dozen different of the fresh herbs I did have (all from Greenmarket farmers), and finished with lemon juice
• a very few tiny ‘Papa Chaucha’ from Berried Treasures, boiled in salted water in a small pot, drained, dried in the same, still-warm pot, seasoned with salt and pepper, and rolled in butter
• some sweet, tender collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut as a rough chiffonade, then braised in a heavy pot in which slightly-crushed garlic from Phillips Farm had first been heated in some olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon white, A to Z Oregon Chardonnay 2013 (note that the link is to a 2014 vintage)
• the music was Modest Mussorgsky, ‘Boris Godounov’, Valery Gergiev conducting the Kirov Theater Orchestera and the Kirov Chorus (all of it)

something to keep up one’s sleeve, for emergencies, whether or not the emergencies involve unexpected guests

 

It’s always the same simple recipe, worked by the same cook, and in the same kitchen, but it turns out a little differently each time, and not just in its appearance.

I have to assume the source of most, it not all of the ingredients was different, but this encounter with a very basic recipe differed significantly from an earlier preparation, and also from any of the many other times we’ve enjoyed it over the years.  I usually turn to this Mark Bittman minimal ‘quick meal’ after we’ve been out until quite late, when there’s no time to prepare anything more ambitious. Note that there are others, equally as handy.

We never get tired of it.  It’s probably a little like the kind of reanimation that comes upon hearing a familiar piece of music, perhaps a favorite, in different performances, even if the principle players might remain the same.

• Bittman’s instructions for this meal, as included in his, “Summer Express: 101 Simple Meals Ready in 10 Minutes or Less”, read, “Put a large can of chickpeas and their liquid in a medium saucepan. Add some sherry, along with olive oil, plenty of minced garlic, smoked pimentón (I used ‘pikant’ this time) and chopped Spanish chorizo.”  (I used Olé ‘Spanish Style Dry Cured Paprika Chorizo, made in the U.S., from Brooklyn Fare, on Schermerhorn Street, which we had opicked up oin the way home from a performance one block away, and garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm)
• the wine was a Spanish (Murcia) red, Olivares Altos De la Hoya Monastrell 2012
• the music was the Piano Concerto No 3 of Nikos Skalkottas

It’s very hard for me to imagine anyone dreaming up this recipe for the first time.  It wouldn’t seem to be a natural approach for preparing any fish, but its author, Mark Bittman, says, “The recipe can be finished with almost any firm fish fillet.”   Here we have a piece, or pieces, of a familiar, undramatic white fish fillet, and slices of white potato, paired with tons of bay leaves and almost a cup of the strongest, most bitter black olives around. The whole idea seems so counter-intuitive, and yet, except for approaches that are even more simple, like this one, I consider it one of the best fish recipes I’ve ever come across.  It’s also one of the easiest, and nearly the most foolproof.

• Three monkfish fillets from Blue Moon Fish Company, weighing just under a total of a pound, and almost a cup of pitted black oil-cured olives, roasted on top of a bed of thinly-sliced and seasoned German Carola potatoes (yellow-fleshed, buttery) from Berried Treasures Farm which had already been roasted in the same pan, until slightly crispy, with a generous amount of olive oil and 15 or so bay leaves from Westside Market, the monkfish finished with a sprinkling of chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm
• a small salad of wild arugula from Lani’s Farm, dressed with good olive oil, a small squeeze of organic lemon, salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, topped with one tiny heirloom tomato, segmented, from Berried Treasures
• the wine was a French (Rhone) white, Côtes du Rhône Samorëns Ferraton Père & Fils 2013
• the music was Sibelius, Symphony No. 2, with Paavo Berglund conducting the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra, which premiered it in 1899, when it was conducted by the composer

Yes, it seem that this meal was genuinely vegan, but we only realized it after we had sat down to it (which tell us all something about our usual dining habits).  In any event, it was really, really good, and also an excellent companion to a good bottle of wine, something I would worry about if I were ever to give up all animal products.

The recipe was my own invention, representing both what I had on hand and my almost insatiable appetite for excellent artisanal pasta, also always on hand.

• two finely-sliced garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm sautéed in olive oil in a deep enameled pot large enough to hold the pasta once it was cooked, followed by a tablespoon or so of dry fennel seed, heated until pungent, 2 thinly-sliced medium red onions, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, added and stirred until almost fully soft, 2 handfuls of very small ‘lunchbox’ peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm, plus 3 late-season (and therefore pretty mild) thin Cayenne red peppers from Oak Grove Plantation, each seeded, deveined, and halved or quartered and also sautéed until tender, the completed mix seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, combined in the sauce pot with cooked and drained Setaro penne rigatoni from Buon Italia (about fourteen ounces of a larger package), including some of the reserved pasta water, which was emulsified over low heat, the whole tossed with fresh chopped oregano from Rise & Root Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, Villa Antinori Toscana 2013
• the music was Sibelius, Symphony No. 1, with Paavo Berglund conducting the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra, which premiered it in 1899, conducted by the composer

The preparation of the skate is familiar to both of us, but it was one of the best ever, the fish cooked just right, the polenta coating perfectly crispy, and the bronze fennel innovation gave a favorite a subtle twist.

Note that the biggest challenge in preparing this dish is the delicacy of the skate: It’s always difficult to keep the pieces in tact, but don’t worry, as the sauce can work wonders in disguising any aesthetic inadequacies.

• small skate ‘wings’ from P.E & D.D. Seafood, dredged in coarse polenta from Citarella which had been seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, fried very briefly (3-4 minutes on the first side, a bit less on the other) in a bit of olive oil until golden brown, removed from the pan and (ideally) placed on warm plates, the heat below the pan turned down, knobs of butter, some chopped shallots and finely-minced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm added, the allium stirred and cooked (‘sweated’) briefly, the flame then turned off entirely, and lemon juice, chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm and a bit of chopped parsley from Tamarack Hollow Farm added to the pan along with a little more butter, all of it stirred once again until the butter melted, the sauce then scattered/poured over the fish
• golden or orange cherry tomatoes from Berried Treasures, halved, then dressed with a good olive oil, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, drops of white balsamic vinegar, and chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Matthew Iaconis Napa Valley Chardonnay 2014 (a Burgundy style, it’s Matt’s wine, and comes to us via Naked Wines)
• the music was an entire album of flute concertoes and symphonies by Friedrich II Hohenzollern

I had some eggs which I did not want to forget to use, so I decided I’d make a frittata for dinner.  We love frittatas. We are also big fans of most any vegetable, not least romanesca broccoli, as I’ve shown recently.   The next day in the Greenmarket I spotted a beautiful head of this art deco treasure which appeared to be exactly the right size for the purpose.

• one large thinly-sliced garlic clove from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in heated olive oil in a seasoned 10″ cast iron pan for about 30 seconds, small flowerettes of romanesca broccoli from Hoeffner Farms, and chopped fresh hot red pepper from Oak Grove Plantation added and cooked for another minute, some of the torn green pointed leaves which enclose the head introduced just before the end, seasoned with salt and pepper, 2 tablespoons of water added, a pyrex glass cover placed over the pan, its contents cooked over moderate heat until the vegetable was crisp-tender, removed from the pan and set aside to cool a little before it was stirred into a bowl in which 8 eggs from Millport Dairy which had been beaten and seasoned with salt and pepper, the contents of the bowl poured into the original pan, which had been returned to the burner where it had heated a tablespoon of oil, the eggs and romanesca cooked over moderately low heat until the edges had set, sprinkled with a half cup of grated parmesan cheese and transferred to a pre-heated 350º oven for about 12 minutes  [the dish can be served warm, but not hot, or at room temperature]
• the wine was an Italian (Veneto) sparkling, Di Maria Prosecco DOC Famiglia Botter
• the music was Carl Heinrich Graun’s opera, ‘Montezuma‘ 

 

While these are baby squid, perhaps they are not baby squid (which might be only 3 to 6 centimeters long, including their heads).  They are however small, tender, and very tasty. I serve this dish often; the size of the cephalopods varies according to local market availability, but they are always delicious, and always very easy to prepare.

The recipe is included in Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’ ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘.  The book is a treasure.

• three quarters of a pound of baby squid, bodies and tentacles, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, dried, quickly arranged in an enameled cast iron pan after its cooking surface had been brushed with olive oil and heated on top of the range until very hot, then sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia and one crushed dried pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, then a good squeeze of lemon juice and some olive oil drizzled over the top, and placed in a pre-heated 400º oven, roasted for four or five minutes
• one baby fennel bulb from Norwich Meadows Farm, rolled in a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, pan-grilled until tender and slightly carbonized, then tossed with chopped fennel fronds [note: since I forgot to add some finely-minced garlic this time, we missed out on the zing otherwise expected]
• redbor kale (or winterbor kale), finely-curled and a striking dark purple-red in color, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted with olive oil in which thinly-sliced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil [in the picture the kale is inside a low black non-vintage, and non-radioactive Fiestaware bowl]
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Fuori Strada Grillo 2014 (whose gorgeous soft packaging, incidentally, is safe for the water bottle holder on you bike)
• the music was the Calder Quartet playing the Thomas Adès string quartet, ‘Arcadiana’