straight out of the oven, above, ‘carved’ and plated, below

 

I’d cooked Guinea fowl only once before since starting this blog 8 years ago, although I think I may have prepared it at least once before then, in the darker ages.  In recent years I’ve rarely served any form of chicken at home, and when I do I’m pretty picky about it’s source.

And then, on Friday, while I was at the Lucky Dog Organic stand, I again spotted the dressed Guinea hens which are usually arranged on the table next to farmer Rich Giles’ own vegetables.  They’re raised by his farmer neighbor, Jennifer Grossman, and, for me, the fact that they were there had automatically given them an imprimatur way back in 2014.  On Friday they were being offered at half the regular price, apparently because the client of a restaurant customer had cancelled an event after Grossman’s farm had already processed a number of birds.  They were now looking for a new venue.

I could not pass up this opportunity, especially as I knew I’d have the time to prepare a roast of some kind on Sunday, two days later, and a warm oven seemed like it would be the right sort of thing for that day, since it was expected to be pretty cold.  I would have bought two, saving one for another chilly day, but my freezer was already pretty busy.

Because I had an entire evening to do it, I had a lot of fun washing, trimming, chopping, and filling up all the prep cups prior to actually placing the bird in the oven.  There were root-ish vegetables in the pan with the hen, and some tender collard greens (fittingly, also from Lucky Dog Organic) were easily cooked and set aside while everything else was in the oven, so I was able to concentrate entirely on basting and, eventually, checking for doneness (that last part was a little scary, but everything worked out fine.

The meal was a great success, largely because of the quality of the fixings, and because of the good recipe I came across on line, on epicurious.com (I roughly halved all of the ingredients for the single bird I cooked).

There were leftovers.  Yum.  Something like this warm salad may be their eventual disposition.

• one 3-and-a-half-pound French Guinea hen from Mauer’s Mountain Farms, via Lucky Dog Organic, washed, dried then brought to room temperature, and prepared according to this Daniel Boulud recipe (with one exception, the addition to the sauce of a concentrated portion of the sauce poivrade in this venison dish) using ingredients from the January Union Square Greenmarket wherever possible, including: 4 garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm; 3 large German Butterball potatoes (halved) along with 2 smaller ‘red thumb’ potatoes, all from Berried Treasures Farm; 1 fresh bay leaf from Westside Market; 3 tablespoons of ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ from Whole Foods; 1 1/2 tablespoons of German-style whole-grain mustard from Whole Foods; 2 teaspoons of scissor-cut chives from Eataly; 2 large sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm; 2 large sprigs of tarragon, from Eataly; 2 sprigs of parsley from Whole Foods; 3 or 4 medium shallots from from Phillips Farm; 1/3 of a cup of chicken broth made with Better Than Bullion chicken base from Whole Foods
• tender collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic, washed, then braised in a heavy pot in which one halved garlic clove from Norwich Meadows Farm had been allowed to sweat in some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a wonderful French (Beaujolais) red, Jean-Paul Brun Terres Dorées L’Ancien Beaujolais Vieilles Vignes 2013
• the music was a superb album of contemporary work, ‘Mavericks’, produced by the American Modern Ensemble, which included compositions by Michael Lowenstern, Pamela Z, Sean McClowry, Robert Dick, Robert Paterson, John Eaton, William O. Smith, and Stuart Dempster

like meat and potatoes, but I mean that in a good way

 

The previous night we had enjoyed beef, but no potatoes.  Last night it was potatoes, but no beef. There was fish, not beef, yet even if it hadn’t been accompanied by potatoes, this fish entrée would have seemed as substantial as the proverbial meal of meat and potatoes.

I think it was what happened to the leeks inside the oven that almost totally altered a dish which I had prepared and enjoyed once before, at that time with one additional ingredient (a bit of bacon, described as optional by Mark Bittman, the author of the recipe).  I had inadvertently caramelized the leeks by the time I added the fish fillets and returned the dish to the oven, and this seemed to change almost everything.

Until we sat down and tasted it I was more than a little worried, but it was a delicious surprise, and a very hearty January meal.  I’ve decided to keep both recipes:  I’ll call the original, ’tilefish fillets with leeks, version 1′, and this one, ’tilefish fillets with leeks, version 2′.

• two leeks from Whole Foods, sliced, tossed with olive oil, spread in a glazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 425º for 10 minutes, after which a teaspoon of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm and 1/4 cup of white wine were added, the pan returned to the oven for 20 minutes more, during which time I added more wine as it became clear the leeks were caramelizing, after those 20 minutes, 4 Tilefish fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, were placed on top of the leeks, brushed with a little olive oil, and the pan again placed in the oven until the fish was done, the pan removed the fish garnished with more thyme, and served with the leeks
• small red potatoes from Stokes Farm, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm glass pot, halved, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with both chopped fresh winter savory and chopped fresh oregano, both from Stokes Farm
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Domaine Bellevue Touraine Sauvignon 2014
• the music, suitable for a king’s supper, and our own, was Jean-Philippe Rameau’s ‘Orchestral Suites’, performed by Jordi Savall and Le Concert Des Nations

I came across this cut of beef late in 2009, when we were checking out The Meat Hook, in Brooklyn, not long after it had first opened.  The meat was beautiful, the deep red of the lean flesh contrasting with the almost pure white of the thick layer of fat, each piece curved into a loop and impaled on a wooded skewer.  The butcher explained its origin and its properties.  I was intrigued, at least as much by the aesthetic and perhaps by the relatively exotic story of its origins (Argentina, we were told), as by the promise of excellent flavor, but it was only months later that I actually got around to cooking a culotte steak.  I had purchased it then from Dickson Farm Stand Meats, our even more local butcher.

It’s been a favorite for both of us ever since.  Although I hadn’t brought one of these lean, very flavorful steaks home for a while, partly because we don’t really eat beef very often, yesterday we may have enjoyed the best one yet.

For the best experience with this cut it’s essential to know what kind of steak you’ve brought home before throwing it on the fire.  The culotte is very lean, and could turn out more chewy than expected – or desired – unless certain procedures are followed.  Because it is so lean, it should not be cooked medium-rare, which would normally be our preference with beef, but rather closer to a medium doneness.

In the past I would always sear it on one side for 2 minutes, turn it over and sear the second side for 45 seconds, then place it inside a moderately-hot oven (375º) for 7 or 8 minutes.  Last night I approached the process very differently.

Earlier in the day, when I was inside the Dickson Farm shop in Chelsea Market, I discussed the virtues of the cut with a young butcher named Philip.  Clearly as well-grounded in the mysteries of the Kitchen as he was in the details of meat cuts, he suggested briefly searing the side of the steak with the heavy layer of fat in a heavy pan (I used a well-seasoned cast iron skillet) just enough to release some of the fat onto the surface of the metal, then cooking each of the sides for about 4 minutes over medium heat, and finally briefly searing the fourth, or top side (the one opposite the side with the fat).

The result was perfect.  The flavor was superb, and because we were able to slice the still-square-section steaks very thinly, and also almost certainly because of the quality of the steak, the meat was quite tender.

• one 11-ounce sirloin culotte (Picanha), produced by Wrighteous Organics, in Schoharie, New York, purchased from Dickson Farm Stand Meats, cut into two pieces, brought to room temperature, seasoned with good sea salt and freshly-ground tellicherry pepper*, seared briefly on the top, the fat side, turned, and cooked for about 4 minutes on each side, then the bottom side seared briefly, removed from the pan, drizzled with juice from a local hothouse Lisbon lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and some olive oil, allowed to rest about 4 minutes, then sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm
• very small parti-colored carrots from Rogowski Farm, tossed in olive oil with salt and pepper, and cooked in a Pampered Chef medium-sized pan at 400º until tender (the time will depend on size; these took about 15 minutes), finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
• mostly green kale, but also some purple leaves, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Duero) red, Creta Noble, Ribera del Duero 2013
• the music was Carlos Chavez, Symphonies No.4 and 2, from the album, Chavez: The Complete Symphonies / Mata, London SO

 

* Note: I’m still unresolved on the subject of the moment when a steak should be seasoned with salt, or pepper; this time I actually forgot about seasoning until after I had already started to cook the second side, and then I sprinkled that side, and, when it was done, the first side; I’m going to have to do more research on the subject

on the counter, the three basic elements, before…

 

…and on the plate, as it was served

 

What fishermen in New York ocean waters call ‘sea perch’ bears no relationship to the fresh water perch I grew up with.  The brilliant color of its scales and its skin would be enough evidence, but, since its  pinkish flesh cooks up white, we could be fooled had it not been seen in its earlier state.

The French know it as Rascasse, but there’s some confusion with names on the other side of the Atlantic because it apparently belongs to the family, ‘scorpaenidae‘, which also includes the scorpionfish.

I think.

Anyway, it’s delicious.

• six fillets of red sea perch (a total of one pound) from American Seafood Company, brushed with olive oil and some chopped green garlic from Lani’s Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, then broiled 4 inches from the flames for about 4 minutes until the skin was crisp and the fish cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which 3 rinsed, filleted salted anchovies from Buon Italia were heated until they had fallen apart, finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
• a small amount of ‘Evenstar Smooth’ kale from Alewife Farm, barely wilted in olive oil in which one clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked until beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• five Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, heated in olive oil with one chopped scallion from John D. Madura Farm, along with some chopped thyme from Stokes Farm and part of one red cayenne pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, finely chopped
• the wine was a Spanish (Rueda) white, Naia D.O. Rueda 2014, from Verdejo old vines
• the music was Carlos Chavez, Symphonies No.1 and 3, from the album, Chavez: The Complete Symphonies / Mata, London SO

‘Dinner in the din[ing room], nothing could be finer’. We had family, one of whom had never been to New York, so we decided not to stay in the breakfast room.  The red placemat should have been a dead giveaway, even if I hadn’t described the location, which involved a mahogany table.

We started out with a salume, continued with shellfish, followed that with a cheese course, and finished with a gingerbread pastry.

• thinly-sliced Alto Adige Speck from Eataly, each piece rolled around the tines of a fork and put on a plate, drizzled with some very good olive oil, accompanied by mixed baby greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, the greens seasoned and dressed with good oil and drops of local hot house Lisbon lemon
• the salume was accompanied by slices of a loaf of ‘rustic classic’ from Eataly
• the wine was an Australian (South Australia) sparkling, Taltarni 2011 from Chelsea Wine Vault

 

• sea scallops from Pura Vida Seafood, washed, rinsed and dried very thoroughly, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of Lisbon lemon juice, a drizzle of olive oil, and scissored little chive plants from Rogowski Farm, placed on a bed of pea shoots from Alewife Farm [the basic recipe, minus the chives and the shoots, is included in Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’, ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘]
• parsnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed thoroughly, sliced, mostly into 1/4-to-1/2″ discs, tossed with olive oil, several garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, unpeeled, salt, and pepper, roasted in a 425º oven for about 30-40 minutes
• ‘Evenstar Smooth’ kale from Alewife Farm, barely wilted in some olive oil after one clove of peeled garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, had been cooked in the oil until it was beginning to brown, finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Santa Barbara) white, Rasmussen Chardonnay 2014

 

• the music throughout was our happy conversation

This is one of the most satisfying meals in my modest portfolio; I owe it all to Mrs. Soccodato, whom I unfortunately never met, the non-Italian wife of my erstwhile Italian, West Village barber, Nic Soccodato.

• Setaro Penne Rigatoni, from Buon Italia, about 12 ounces, served with three quarters of the simple tomato sauce described in this post, in which I used 3 garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, one 28 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes, and 3 large whole leaves of Gotham Greens Rooftop basil purchased last summer at Whole Foods (which I had wisely dried and frozen between small squares of waxed paper and stacked inside a soft plastic sealed container)
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) red, Tenuta Rapitlà Nero d’Avola Campo Reale 2013
• the music was Q2 streaming, most notably including Uuno Klami’s ‘Northern Lights’

This pretty simple recipe, which I first came across only three months ago, has quickly become my favorite way to enjoy fresh cod.

Last night Barry’s mother Earline joined us, and the number of my muses immediately doubled.  This cod en persillade was absolutely the very best tasting – and looking – and touching – to date.

• two 8-ounce fillets of fresh cod from American Pride Seafood, brought to room temperature, seasoned with salt on both sides, then only the top side (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, the two pieces dipped into a mixture of homemade breadcrumbs mixed with some finely-chopped parsley from Whole Foods, browned briefly, but only on the side coated with the mustard and breadcrumb mix, 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 15 minutes this time, because the pieces were thick), sprinkled with scissored slices from half a dozen whole baby chive plants from Rogowski Farm [the recipe is based on Thomas Keller’s ‘Wild Cod en Persillade‘
• late-season small-leaf cavolo nero, or black kale, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, briefly wilted with olive oil and two halved garlic cloves from from Berried Treasures Farm, after the garlic had first been heated in the oil, and finished with a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of a sweet Frost Lisbon Lemon, grown locally by Fantastic Gardens of Long Island,
• two baby fennel ‘bulbs’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, and their stems, sliced roughly and slowly braised for a few minutes in olive oil and a large, slightly-squished garlic clove from Berried Treasures, most of a red cayenne pepper from Oak Grove Plantation and 6 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from While Foods added and cooked until softened, the mix seasoned with salt and pepper and finished with a squeeze of sweet lemon and chopped fennel fronds
• the wine was a Spanish (Galicia) white, Benito Santos Igrexario de Saiar Albariño 2014
• the music was Yle Klassinen, streaming

very happy with this meal

 

Holidays and weekends shouldn’t be the only occasions for special meals, and besides, what’s ‘special’ when you’re trying to do your best all the time?  Still, I have to admit that this was pretty special, and while I served it on an ‘ordinary’ Monday, that wasn’t my original intention.  It was supposed to be Sunday dinner.  The fact is, earlier last week I had gone back and forth in my head about whether to marinate these venison chops 24 hours ahead of time, and in the end decided to play them quite straight (no marinade).  So I missed my cue for removing them from the refrigerator, and did not realize it until almost 10:30 Sunday night.

The new plan for that night was to put together a dish of rich pasta, and make the venison wait 24 hours.

Fortunately nothing suffered from the delay, and certainly not ourselves (the cacio e pepe was delicious).

I had interrupted the sauce preparation just in time, and it might even have profited from the overnight rest.  At least I can avow that it tasted wonderful and even more rich than it looks above.  My interest is normally in minimal, quickly-assembled meals, but I understand the passion for intense spicy sauces (usually thought of a cold weather thing in northern Europe, but a warm time thing around the Mediterranean and in south Asia); last night it was very cold outside, and we were delighted to have the oven working to heat both ourselves and this rich meal.

This venison talk inspires at least one more thought: I understand why a medieval or renaissance-era lord – and lady – would prefer the robust taste of game to so-called, ‘butcher’s meat’, especially after being out riding all day, hunting animals (or men).  Moves tells me I only walked 1.6 miles the day we sat down to this meal, so a single chop for each of us was plenty.

The inspiration for the meal began with an accidental sighting of a sign at the Quattro’s Game Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, ‘Fresh Venison’.  Before this I hadn’t seen them advertising game more robust than pheasant, so I investigated further and, after a conversation with, I think, a member of the family, I ended up purchasing 2 chops from her.  At the time I thought I might have been too stingy bout the amount, but on the day I cooked them I was certain I had gotten it right.

I had very recently purchased David Waltuck’s beautiful big volume, ‘Chanterelle: The Story and Recipes of a Restaurant Classic’, and it was my inspiration for preparing them (the picture on the page facing the recipe is awesome); earlier I had seen a Mike Robinson video (I’d never heard of him until I googled ‘cooking venison shops’) which had already persuaded me to cook them as simply as possible.

I didn’t have any venison bones, so I had to try to reproduce the ‘venison stock’ called for in Waltuck’s recipe;  I think I did pretty well, and even the color looked right.

• 2 venison fallow deer loin chops, less than half a pound each, from Quattro’s Farm, seared quickly on top of the stove, then placed inside a 425º oven for only about 4 minutes (they should be pink and not rare), then placed on top of a very rich pepper sauce which had been prepared earlier
• the sauce poivrade started with a large unpeeled, coarsely-chopped carrot, a medium onion, unpeeled, quartered, one unpeeled garlic head, sliced horizontally, one large celery stalk, cut into 1-inch sections, all placed in hot olive oil inside a large, enameled, cast iron pan, the heat reduced to medium and the vegetables cooked until brown and soft (about 10-15 minutes; half a cup of white wine and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar poured in, the contents cooked, stirring, and scraping up the bits on the bottom of the pan, brought to a boil until the liquid is almost evaporated (about 5 minutes), four cups of stock [venison stock is specified, but I used a combination of various stocks I had in the freezer, mushroom, lamb tongue, veal tongue, plus some very good low-sodium commercial beef and chicken stock], brought back to a boil and cooked until reduced by half (around 25-30 minutes); the sauce now strained through a fine mesh strainer set over a medium saucepan, the vegetables pressed, in order to squeeze as much of the juices into the pan as possible, 1 teaspoon of telicherry pepper and 1/4 teaspoon of sichuan peppercorns added, the liquid simmered over medium heat until the sauce was reduced to 1/2 cup (about 20 minutes); 1/2 tablespoon of butter and 1/2 tablespoon of whole wheat flour kneaded together to form a paste, then whisked into the saucepan, breaking up any lumps, the heat raised to bring it to boiling, then immediately reduced to medium, or low, simmering just long enough to eliminate any flour taste (about 5 minutes), then strained, again through a fine-mesh strainer, into a small saucepan, where it can be kept warm (or carefully re-heated) until ready to be placed on the plate
• brussels sprouts from van Houtem Farms, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, spread onto a large, very well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan in a 400º oven and cooked until tender and slightly carbonized (the time will depend on size, but these took barely 15 minutes)
• very small white carrots from Rogowski Farm, also tossed in olive oil with salt and pepper, and cooked in a Pampered Chef medium-sized pan at 400º until tender (again, the time will depend on size; these took about 15 minutes), but here finished with a combination of chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm, chopped parsley from Whole Foods, and scissored whole baby chive plants from Rogowski Farm

white carrots in the just-beginning-to-be-seasoned medium-sized ceramic pan

 

• the fabulous wine was an Italian (Sicily) red, Etna Rosso Calabretta Azienda Vinicola 2001 from Flatiron wines  [we had originally purchased this wine for a meal of hare, celebrating New Year’s Day 2015, and fortunately we had bought two at the time]
• the music was Pierre Boulez, ‘Pli Selon Pli’, in a performance with the composer conducting the Ensemble Intercontemporain, Christine Schäfer the soloist; it’s amazing how well this stuff ‘holds up’, and in fact now seems sorta hummable, after all these years

the venison was aborted

 

It was Sunday, and I was going to prepare a meal which would have included two beautiful fallow deer chops, from the Union Square Greenmarket, and two late-season vegetables.  I had a great time putting together a rich sauce, with a complex faux-venison stock, but 2 or 3 hours in, all wheels stopped when I reached for the venison in the refrigerator and realized I hadn’t taken them out of the freezer.

I dotted the sauce with butter, put it into the refrigerator, returned the vegetables there, and Barry carefully re-corked the luscious Sicilian wine we had anticipated revisiting, and placed it in the icebox as well.  Yes, I also transferred the chops from the freezer and set them near the wine.

It was now late in the evening and I had to come up with an alternative, ideally as satisfying as the meal originally planned, and one which required very little preparation time.

My answer this time was cacio e pepe, to which I was introduced almost exactly 14 years ago, by Amander Hesser, and the former Mr. Latte, and which I have cherished ever since.

It was as sturdy as a venison dinner, and no less delicious.  We had the venison the following day, so I suppose I could also call this a primi.

• the simple recipe is in the link, “I was introduced”, above, and the ingredients this time included 10 ounces of Setaro spaghetti chitarra from Buon Italia (I didn’t have bavette, or linguini fini, but we’re not religious about shapes in this house), Parmigiano-Reggiano and pecorino Romano cheeses, also from Buon Italia, and unsalted ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘
• the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2014, from Phillippe Wines
• the music was Pier Francesco Cavalli’s ‘Xerxes’, with Rene Jacobs both conducting and singing the title role, as countertenor

Yes.  And colorful.

 

• two 8-ounce pollock fillets from American Pride Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, seasoned with salt and pepper and placed in a buttered baking dish, spread with a mixture of soft butter, zest from what may have been a Frost Lisbon Lemon, grown locally by Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and scissored whole baby chive plants from Rogowski Farm, baked 12 to 15 minutes at 350º, removed to plates and spread with the cooking juices and sprinkled with a small number of salted capers which had been rinsed, drained, dried, before being briefly heated in a little hot olive oil
• a handful of golden radishes from Lani’s Farm, roasted at 400º for about 20 minutes on a small ceramic oven pan with branches of thyme from Stokes Farm, then sprinkled with more thyme, now chopped
• two quite small purple (lilac?) cauliflower heads from from Van Houtem Farms, cored, the florets separated from each other, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, spread on another ceramic pan and roasted in the same hot oven, for barely 15 minutes, since they were so tender, then finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods

• the wine was a California white, David Akiyoshi Chardonnay Clarksburg 2014, from Naked Wines
• the music was, early in the meal, Schubert’s ‘Trout Quintette’, streaming from Yle Klassinen as, Schubert: Forellikvintetto (Emanuel Ax, piano, Guarneri-kvartetti, sekä Julius Levine, kontrabasso), followed by a Moscow Studio Archives recording of Alfred Schnittke’s ‘Concerto Grosso No. 1 / Cello Concerto No. 1’