I included parsley this time.

While it was just as delicious as when I served the dish without it, my sentiment is that I probably prefer the more minimal version of aglio olio e peperoncino, especially if the pasta is of really exceptional quality.

• This is Mark Bittman’s recipe, which is pretty much what I did myself, using one small red cayenne pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, two garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, more than a third of a cup of parsley from Stokes Farm, and 12 ounces of Afeltra Spaghettone, a slightly fatter spaghetti, made in southern Campania with 100% Puglian grain, bronze-extruded and air-dried) from Eataly
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2013
• the music was from the album, ‘Franz Anton Hofmeister: Complete Works for Viola‘, celebrating a composer and music publisher, also benefactor to and friend of Mozart, who is far more worthy than the modest fame he enjoys today would suggest

(in something of a statement about my at-least-intermittent compulsiveness, the various heirloom cherry tomatoes are already divided into two quite equal shares before the rest of the course has been finished; but they were pretty)

 

But it really wasn’t about the tomatoes, and in fact they were barely even an afterthought.  It was about the sea robin again.

I had prepared this excellent fish twice before, with super success, even if I haven’t yet come up with an alternative to the recipe I’ve used each time.  I now consider sea robin a lucky find and a great treat – and, surprisingly, still one of the best bargains on this side of the Atlantic.  At least so far they haven’t generally been taken seriously as candidates for the dining table, usually considered ‘rough fish’ or ‘trash fish’ by people seeking their prized neighbors, striped bass or flounder.   In France and elsewhere in Europe they and their relatives, whether called ‘gurnard’ or ‘rascasse’, are more respected.

I’m going to link to an attractive recipe on another site here, but it’s probably more for my own reference when than for any public enlightenment.

• eight quite small sea robin fillet, or ‘tails’, from Blue Moon Fish, rinsed, pat dry, then placed in a pan of sizzling olive oil and sautéed over medium-high heat for barely 2 minutes on each side, transferred to two plates, a little lemon squeezed on top, then small spoonfuls of an olive tapenade sauce spread over or between the fillets, which were then garnished with fresh Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil leaves from Whole Foods, torn
• the tapenade had been prepared with Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, a little garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, one rinsed chopped anchovy, also from Buon Italia, salted rinsed capers from Buon Italia, ground black pepper, olive oil, and a few sprigs of fresh thyme from Phillips Farm, chopped
• a handfull of small heirloom cherry and grape tomatoes from Berried Treasures, halved, then added to the plates, and seasoned with Maldon salt
• yellow flat pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, then reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm
• a simple salad of spicy wild arugula from Lani”s Farm, tossed with one thinly-sliced shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm, very good olive oil, Italian white vinegar, salt, and freshly-ground pepper
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Joel Gott Sauvignon Blanc 2014
• the music was Richard Zimdars performing 20th and 21st-century piano compositions by a number of composers, from his album, ‘Character Pieces from Four Continents‘

I had not realized, before I put it on the table, just how appropriate this dish would be for a day on which we had revisited the Donald Judd house.

To begin with, it’s probably the second most minimal recipe in my kitchen ‘kit’ (the first has got to be this spaghetti aglio olio e peperoncino). but beyond that, while the sections of pasta I always use start out as round tubes (a shape not much encountered in Judd’s work or his SoHo house, once they have been cooked they flatten almost completely, and equally seductive rectangles emerge.  Although it may be something of a stretch, I imagine the shape as relating to Judd’s kit.

Every Italian bachelor, full-time or temporary, is alleged to know how to whip up one meal by himself, the dish of spaghetti with a simple sauce of garlic, oil and peppers I mention above. Maybe this simple tomato sauce (which incidentally goes with virtually any pasta) should be in the repertoire of every single girl (or homo), Italian or otherwise, since the recipe requires a little more lead time than the aglio olio e peperoncino, requiring advance planning most bachelors might not be up to.

The story of this dish begins with my visits to a West Village barber shop, beginning in the mid-eighties.  But it wasn’t just any barber shop, as I learned over time.

Nick’s Hair Salon, which sadly no longer exists, was located at 5 Horatio St.  It opened in 1956, fronting on the north sided of an extremely tiny (about 100 square feet) Greenstreets triangle bounded by Horatio, West 4th Street, and 8th Avenue.  Once it had been ‘adopted’ and planted, I would often point out its rich greenery to visitors from less densely-populated realms, as “one of our parks”).

Nick Soccodato was a lovely, affable, and gentle man (with a great full head of hair).

He was a barber and had been a barber, he once told me, from the time he graduated from his first job, which he described as hanging around shops and sweeping up the hair on the floor (I don’t recall where he said that was, but it may have been the same location he eventually owned). Nick was also a dealer, a very special dealer. At some point in the history of his shop he began a second career, dealing in food, Italian food, specifically the vegetables and fruits associated with his family’s Italian bel paese, the Agro Nocerino , and most specifically, with the San Marzano tomato, which has been, and always will be, associated with the area.

I don’t know, but Nick and his Italian nephew, Savino Zuottolo, might have created the American market for San Marzano tomatoes almost on their own, in the back of the business that was later called, ‘Nick’s Hair Styling‘.

I had occasionally seen people come into the shop and walk out with packages, cans, and jars of Italian food, but I hadn’t thought much of it, probably marking it up as just another eccentricity of the owner and a staff not without such things.  But one day I found myself talking to Nick about his family’s homeland.  I told him how much I loved the Campania, on every level, and also told him that I loved cooking, generally using the simplest Italian dishes, and usually southern Italian, as my models.

For sharing my interest with him, I was rewarded with a tour of the barbershop’s back room, where cans, jars and packages of dry stuffs were stocked and displayed something like a much smaller version of the wonderful emporium, Buon Italia, in the Chelsea Market.  I already knew that the various sized cans of San Marzano tomatoes were the stars, but my eyes really lit up when I spotted the packages of short sections of huge tubes of dried pasta.  I thought their contents were absolutely, beautiful, and as perfectly minimal as a bunch of long spaghetti.

I had never seen anything like that pasta before, and I had to take some home.  I had the wits to ask Nic what kind of sauce it would traditionally be served with.  In his answer he described relaxed Sunday afternoon meals of a Paccheri with a simple tomato sauce using canned San Marzano plum tomatoes, and he promised he would ask his wife to copy her recipe and he would give it to me.

I, or rather, we, have dined like Barone ever since, regularly enjoying minimal feasts of paccheri served with Rose Soccodato’s simple San Marzano tomato sauce.  I didn’t remember her name when I transcribed the instructions to my file, so the recipe has always been known as ‘Mrs Nick’s Simple Tomato Sauce’ in our kitchen.

I can’t recommend it enough, but please do not to try it with anything other than San Marzano tomatoes, although, as with so many food source questions, even with ‘Denominazione d’Origine Protetta (DOP)’ printed on the can, exactly what that means may not be perfectly clear.

 

THE RECIPE

In an enameled cast iron pot or other non-reactive pan, large enough to hold the pasta after it’s been cooked, sauté 2 or 3 cloves in 4 to 5 tablespoons of olive oil, but only until the garlic is pungent.

Add one 28-ounce can of San Marzano tomatoes (already-chopped or whole, and ideally without basil), crush the tomatoes with a wooden spoon if they are whole,  sauté uncovered at high heat for 5 minutes, stirring a few times to reduce the liquid (yes, the juices will spatter a bit; I use a black apron and check the surrounding environment after this step).

Reduce the heat to very low, so the sauce is barely bubbling, add salt and freshly-ground pepper to taste, and simmer for a full 30 minutes.

Add a few whole leaves of fresh basil and continue simmering for 15  minutes more, again stirring occasionally.

Note: The sauce can be prepared a little ahead of time, so there’s no competition with the boiling pasta.

When the pasta has cooked, drain it and add it to the pan, or mix sauce and pasta in a warm bowl.

Serve, but do not add cheese.

 

• Setaro Paccheri from Buon Italia, served with the simple tomato sauce described above, using garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, one 28 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes, and two very large whole leaves from a package of Gotham Greens Rooftop basil purchased at Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscan) red, Morellino di Scansano ‘Mocali‘ 2013, a gift of friends
• the music was from defunensemble‘s double CD, ‘Define Function‘ https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/define-function/id1041575914

Day boat Long Island Cod. But there’s also this sad story about cod.

• a single cod fillet (just under one pound) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, halved, sautéed slowly for about four or five minutes (along with a one and a half tablespoons of minced garlic, from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had been begun to color in the oil), then flipped, and two thirds of a cup of chopped parsley from Stokes Farm added to the pan, stirred a bit and the fish sautéed for a few more minutes before it was removed to two plates, and the juices spread on top of the fillets
• four ‘Mountain Magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, quartered, added to the plates, and seasoned with Maldon salt
• yellow flat pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, then reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Champalou Vouvray 2014 (Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant)
• the music was more from the albums we were listening to yesterday, violinist/composer Todd Reynolds’ 2CD composite album, ‘Outerborough‘

I don’t really know what was inside the pasta other than shrimp, since Buon Italia didn’t include a list of the ingredients on the package, only on the shelf, and I didn’t realize that until I arrived home.  I’m going to try to remember to look the next time I’m there.

• prezzamolata di gamberi from Buon Italia, with a sauce of thinly-sliced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in olive oil, one tiny fresh red pepper from Roots to River Farm, finely-chopped, ‘Mountain Magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, pepper, and chopped Tarragon from Stokes Farm

 

The dessert was a small plate of fruit and cheese.

• two Bartlett pears from Locust Grove Fruit Farm, and thin slices of  ‘Barden Blue’ and ‘Rupert, from Consider Bardwell, both cow cheeses
• the wine was a California (Central Valley) white, JC van Staden Pinot Grigio 2014
• the music, streamed on Spotify, included a good part of violinist/composer Todd Reynolds’ 2CD composite album, ‘Outerborough‘, which features a number of genre-crossing composers

We hadn’t eaten meat in 9 days, although that was certainly no hardship for us.  After enjoying a small duck breast, from Long Island or Pennsylvania, on October 22, we had feasted, in succession on Long Island eel; ‘Hudson River prawns’; zucchini-filled pasta made 2 blocks away; penne with local Romanesco; and New York-local-waters-sourced mackerel, crab cakes, scallops and Grey Triggerfish.

We broke our inadvertent fast last night with some delicious pork chops from upstate NY.  The duck and pork recipes have been among my favorites for a long time, but I’ve added some new choice ones from among the meals which those two dinners bracketed.

• two 8-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farms, thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper, seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of an organic lemon was squeezed over them and left in the pan, which was then placed in a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again), removed from the oven, sprinkled with chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm, and the pan juices spooned over the top
• eight ‘Mountain Magic’ tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, added to the pan in which the chops had roasted after they had been removed, stirred in the juices until warm, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil from Whole Foods
• Brussels sproutsfrom Van Houton Farms, tossed with salt, pepper, and some olive oil, and roasted in a 400º oven for about half an hour
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Matthew Iaconis Napa Valley Chardonnay 2014 (in a Burgundy style, it’s Matt’s wine, and it comes from Naked Wines)
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 9, Claudio Abbado leading the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, only months before the conductor’s death