cooling off

 

We were to leave for three weeks in Germany the next day so I was interested in using as much of the fresh ingredients left in our refrigerator as possible.  I think I did a pretty good job, with absolutely no taste sacrifices. It also looked pretty good. The hardest part of assembling this one-dish meal was deciding which pan (that is, mostly, which size pan) I was going to use.  I ended up with a seasoned thick 11″ steel skillet, 1 3/4″ deep, and it turned out to be just right for the quantity of the ingredients and the amount of heat I wanted to work with.

• those ingredients included, not necessarily in the order in which they were placed in the pan, a couple tablespoons of olive oil; a few chopped ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm; 4 or 5 chopped spring shallots from Lani’s Farm; a generous amount of arugulion (a natural wild arugula and dandelion hybrid) from Berried Treasures; 7 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods; 6 eggs form Millport Dairy; a tablespoon of chopped lovage from Berried Treasures; sea salt; freshly-ground tellicherry pepper; a little Basque Piment d’Espelette which I had purchased from the French maker’s daughter at La Ferme Basque, Charlevoix, Quebec; and a nice explosion of radish micro greens from Two Guys From Woodbridge
• the wine was a New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling white, Domaine Saint-Vincent Méthode Champenoise Brut New Mexico NV
• the music was four symphonies of C.P.E. Bach and one harpsichord concerto, Norrington directing the Camerata Salzburg, with Florian Birsak on the keyboard

The Greenmarket-sourced crab cakes were as wonderful as always, and they hit it off with the radish micro greens; the salsa was a little different from so many earlier versions, and the ingredients somewhat more eccentric; and I think the addition of thyme sprigs worked pretty well with the excellent roasted local asparagus, shown below before it went into the oven.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (the ingredients are crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), heated in a heavy copper pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa composed of 6 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, which had been chopped and combined with salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a bit of homemade French Basque piment d’Espellate we had purchased in a small town north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec last year from the producer’s daughter, some dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, chopped peppermint from Lani’s Farm, some chopped stems of ramps from Berried Treasures, the crab cakes finished with a sprinkling of radish micro greens from Two Guys From Woodbridge
• eighteen asparagus spears from Phillips Farm, trimmed, the stems of the larger stalks peeled, then rolled, along with a handful of thyme sprigs, in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil and a little sea salt, roasted at 425-450º for about 15 to 20 minutes, removed to two plates, the juice of an organic lemon squeezed over the top
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2015
• the music was Mozart’s Divertimenti Nos. 10 and 11, Sandor Vegh directing the Camerata Salzburg

I think that the appeal, arguably inordinate, of both ramps and fiddlehead ferns lies in some combination of their perceived status as harbingers of the real growing season, their fleeting appearance, and their romantic character as forage plants. Together these very particular attributes mean they have a status not entirely unrelated to the plant which which lent its name to the 17th-century tulip bubble. If it were just about the taste, both the North American wild onion and the ostrich fern might occupy positions little distinguishable from any of our other vegetables, but we have raised both to a status little supported by the intrinsic value of either.

I’m writing this as a cook, one who is very aware of the genuine appeal of both of these plants, but still mindful of the fact that for most of us their most engaging virtue (as forage spoils) cannot actually be realized, since the ‘finding’ has been accomplished by others, who then sell them to us in farmers’ markets.

This meal included both of these spring treasures, as well as a certain number of ingredients whose supply is somewhat more regular.

No hurray: Like so many dishes which combine disparate ingredients, the taste of this one improved dramatically as it slid closer to room temperature.

• the ingredients of this pasta meal, in the order of their introduction into a large copper pan which made the sauce, included one clove of organic garlic from Trader Joe’s, thickly-sliced; 4 roughly-sliced ramps from Lucky Dog Organic; 4 ounces of fiddleheads from Tamarack Hollow Farm; 6 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods; a squeeze of organic lemon; dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia; sea salt and freshly ground pepper, all tossed with about 7 ounces of Afeltra Zito Corto Rigato which had been cooked al dente, served with some grated Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia scattered over the top of each shallow bowl
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Insolia 2013, from Philippe Wine in Chelsea
• the music was Pascal Dusapin’s ‘Etudes Pour Piano’, performed by Vanessa Wagner

Choosing the ingredients for this meal was easy. I went to the Greenmarket on Wednesday primarily to buy fish, and nothing else. The sign for Blackfish (aka ‘Tautog) jumped out at me as soon as I arrived at the Blue Moon stand, and so it would be; it’s one of my favorites.

I didn’t really need any more vegetables, but I’m a sucker for a good display, and the people of Eckerton Hill Farm are masters at it. Lying next to a table laden with beautiful greens in woven wicker and miniature ‘bushel’ baskets was this display of ‘French Breakfast radishes‘. I decided that choosing them as a side would give me both roots and greens in one dish.

• a 1-pound fillet of Blackfish (Tautog in New England) from Blue Moon Fish Company, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Telicherry pepper, sautéed in a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan for about 4 minutes on each side, the skin side down first, drizzled with organic lemon juice, and finished with a dusting of Pollen Ranch Dill Pollen, divided into two and moved onto plates, the pan juices gently drizzled over each one
• one bunch of French Breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farm, washed, the leaves removed and set aside (the little white ‘tails’ could have been left on, but I removed them without thinking), and the roughly-chopped buds of a half dozen ramps from Berried Treasures, sprinkled with salt and pepper, sautéed in a little olive oil in another copper skillet for a few minutes, the radish leaves and the ramp leaves (cut as ribbons) added to the pan and stirred in, chopped lovage from Berried Treasures added, and more used to garnish the vegetables when they were on the plates  [I added a little white wine after sautéeing the radishes and ramp buds, and kept cooking, stirring, until the liquid had evaporated, but that step is certainly optional]
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Château Soucherie Cuvée Les Rangs de Longue Anjou Blanc 2014 , from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was by Heinrich Ignaz Biber, the album, ‘Mensa Sonora, Sonata Representiva‘

Because we’re leaving the country this Monday for Germany (Munich and Berlin) and will be away for three weeks, I’m beginning to, figuratively, extinguish the kitchen fire. It means I have to remember that there will be only a finite number of meals before then, and I’ve started to plan accordingly.

Tonight it was pasta in an unlikely marriage with collards.

I incorporated these delicious greens, which I had been keeping in the crisper for a few days, in a dish which used most of a lemon (both rind and juice) that had also been awaiting its turn to shine, along with the last of a jar of pine nuts that I had stored in the refrigerator when the market price was relatively modest. The medium was a package of a very good whole wheat pasta for which I had hoped to find a good excuse to include in a meal; this turned out to be the occasion.

The very simple recipe is from Martha Stewart.

• my ingredients included Garofalo whole wheat spaghetti, organic garlic from Trader Joe’s, dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, organic lemon from Whole Foods, and Pecorino Romano from Buon Italia
• the wine was a Spanish (Castilla y Leon/Uclés) white, Fontana Mesta Verdejo Uclés 2014, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was the album, ‘Yarn​/​Wire​/​Currents Vol. 2‘, and also, because we lingered at the table until fairly late, ‘David Brynjar Franzson: The Negotiation Of Context‘

The meal was pretty basic, assembled, except for the very fresh baby squid, from the stock of vegetables I happened to have already had on hand that evening.

Before the end of the meal however, the flavors of the 2 or 3 simply-prepared elements had combined to a wonderful and subtle effect, and, yes, there was a sturdy bread available.

• about one pound of squid, bodies and tentacles, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, dried, then very quickly arranged in a large enameled cast iron pan after it had been heated until hot on top of the range and its cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and, when that was also hot, the cephalopods added to the pan, quickly sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, one crushed dried Italian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, and then juice from an organic lemon, and some olive oil drizzled over the top before the squid was placed in a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for four or five minutes, removed, distributed onto 2 plates, and drizzled  with the cooking juices
• seven Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved and tossed with 3 chopped fresh or spring shallots (they look like scallions) from Lani’s Farm, some salt, pepper, and a little olive oil, arranged inside another, smaller ceramic pan and cooked at 400º for about 20 minutes, removed from the oven and scattered with chopped lovage from Windfall Farms, placed on the plates on top of a bed of ‘arugulion‘ which had been dressed only with a little olive oil
• slices of a rich multigrain bread form Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Falanghina Feudi di San Gregorio 2014
• the music was discs 5 and 6 of the multi-CD set, ‘Between Noise and Silence‘, collected works and tributes in memoriam to the composer Steven M. Miller

It was all very simple, except for the part about foraging for the tasty green ‘love children’ of arugula and dandelion.

The creative hand of Franca Tantillo, of Berried Treasures, had actually managed the hard part back on her farm in the western Catskills. She was also the one who had given her somewhat sturdy, spicy green the name, ‘arugulion’. I was told on Friday that the green was some kind of unprogrammed cross between arugula and dandelion that she had just come across on a patch of ground on her farm.

Even before I heard the story, I knew I had to try it.

The very uncomplicated recipe that follows is from ‘I’m Not A Cook‘.

It was so good, we decided to skip the cheese course, and ate it all. Besides, there was half a cup of a great cheese in the dish itself.

• eight ounces of Afeltra linguine from Eataly, cooked in a large pot of salted water until barely al dente, drained, reserving 1 cup of the cooking water, returned to the pot, tossed with 3 tablespoons of butter which had been siting at room temperature for a while and a little over 2 tablespoons of juice from an organic lemon, half of a cup of grated Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia tossed with the pasta (in batches, to avoid clumping), the reserved cooking water added as needed while doing so, to keep the pasta loose, 3 ounces of ‘arugulion’ added to the mix and tossed until evenly distributed (this took a little while), seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Telicherry pepper, a little extra lemon juice added, finished with a light drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Piedmont) white, Ferrando Erbaluce di Caluso La Torrazza 2013, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was from the recording of an October 17, 1944 performance in the Musikvereinssaal of Bruckner’s Symphony No. 8, the Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Wilhelm Furtwängler

I first walked into The Meat Hook in 2009, soon after they had opened on Frost Street.  The gradual dispersion of the Williamsburg gallery scene in the years after that meant that we soon lost contact with these excellent suppliers, but last Sunday we headed over to their new shop after a visit to ‘SEVEN-ish, Seriously Funny‘, installed by ‘Seven at The Boiler’ through May 22.

We picked up 2 beautiful flatiron steaks and a pound of excellent pork secreto. We enjoyed the pork that night, and froze the beef, which they had vacuum sealed for us, for another day.

Last night, on one of the 5 personal anniversaries we share, we treated ourselves to the steaks.

• 2 flatiron steaks (totaling just under 14 ounces) from the Meat Hook, defrosted in the refrigerator, brought to room temperature, dried, pan-grilled to rare-to-medium rare, drizzled with some local Lisbon lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island (this was the very last of David’s citrus), sprinkled with radish micro greens from Two Guys From Woodbridge, and drizzled with a little good olive oil
• sunchokes (12 ounces) from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, small ‘rootlings’ removed, trimmed, scrubbed, sliced very thinly (1/8 inch, but they probaly didn’t have to be that thin), tossed with barely a tablespoon of olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground Telicherry pepper, spread in one layer onto 2 Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pans (a single pan wasn’t enough, since they had been cut so thinly and needed a lot of surface), roasted at 425º for about 35 minutes, or until they were brown, tender, and crispy on the edges, dusted with dried fennel pollen from Buon Italia, and shuffled around in the pans with a wooden spatula
• a dozen spears of asparagus from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, trimmed and peeled, rolled in about a tablespoon of olive oil, and a little sea salt, roasted at 425-450º for about 15 to 20 minutes, served exactly as they were, unadorned, in all their freshness and goodness
• the wine was  a California (Sonoma) red, ROX Scott Peterson All Blacks Sonoma County 2013 from Naked Wines
• the music was ‘Glass Piece (for Annea Lockwood)’, by Steven M. Miller from the set, ‘Between Noise and Silence‘, of collected works and tributes in memoriam to the composer, from Innova Recordings

Two seafood courses are a little unusual for us, but these were for cause. My fish dealer suggested I get something extra to go with the tuna steak I had just picked out, and, forgetting that a little tuna goes a long way, I yielded. I didn’t want to put them together, and when I remembered that I had some very good watercress in the crisper and also some decent bread, I knew I had the makings of a first course.

• four small-to-medium scallops from Pura Vida Fisheries, washed, drained and very thoroughly dried on paper towels (twice), generously seasoned with salt and pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of a local Lisbon lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a drizzle of good olive oil, then scattered with some sumac I had acquired that day for the first time ever, from Berried Treasures
• the last of a bunch of watercress from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, washed, dried in a rolled kitchen towel, and dressed with good olive oil, and juice from the same Lisbon lemon, salt, and pepper
• slices of a small baguette from Whole Foods

 

I then ‘gilded’ my favorite tuna recipe with some of the seductive vetch which remained in the refrigerator even after having already been a part of several meals. Because we had gotten home so late from Jersey City after a brilliant gallery show opening, and the thick asparagus I had brought home from the Greenmarket that afternoon would take some time and attention to prepare, and because I had half a dozen maturing potatoes of a certain delicious strain, I decided to accompany the fish with the tubers and a couple other spring elements, fresh scallion-like shallots and lovage.

 

• one 13-ounce tuna steak from Pura Vida Fisheries, halved, the tops an bottoms rubbed with a mix of a generous amount of dry fennel seed and one crushed medium dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, ground together, additionally seasoned with salt and pepper, then pan-grilled (a little longer than I would normally wish, which would be only a little more than a minute and a half on each side), finished with a good squeeze of a Lemon grown locally by Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a drizzle of good olive oil [the recipe is from Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, found in ‘Italian Easy’; Recipes from the London River Cafe‘]
• red thumb potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled in salted water until tender, drained, dried in the same pot in which they had cooked, a little olive oil poured in, the pan returned to the heat and the whole stirred with some chopped spring shallots (looking like scallions, but with a little rouge blush) from Lani’s Farm, divided onto the plates, finished with lovage from WIndfall Farms, and garnished with some chopped shallot leaves
• the wine was an Austrian (Wagram) rosé, Fritsch Rosé Zweigelt vom Donaulöss 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was the first two of the six CDs which make up the set, ‘Between Noise and Silence‘, collected works and tributes, in memoriam Steven M. Miller, from Innova Recordings

What to say about this simple assemblage? It was improvised, and almost anyone could have put it together. There was however, one exceptional ingredient, and it made the dish itself exceptional.

I was in Chelsea Market yesterday, browsing the platforms and shelves of Buon Italia, one of my favorite food shops anywhere. Counterintuitively, inside this emporium of Italian cookery I had actually been looking, with no success, for mace, preferably whole blade mace (it sounds like I know what I’m talking about, but that’s not altogether true).

Then I spotted it. The small plastic container was one of about a dozen arranged on a shelf some distance from all of the other dry herbs and spices, and the label read, in part, “Organic Wild Fennel Flowers”. I live in Manhattan, which would seem to make it as likely as also impossible to come across it; in any event, I had never expected to be able include this almost legendary ingredient in my modest home larder.

It was pretty pricey, but I bought one.

I think it’s going to change my life.

But first of all, I want to correct the misconception that this very precious herb can be described as fennel flowers. What I brought home, in spite of the print on the label, is fennel pollen, hand-collected in Italy from common wild fennel.  Second, I’m putting myself on notice right now, in the range of anyone able to read this post, that I will resist the temptation going forward of incorporating a pinch in every dish I put together.

• eight ounces of Afeltra spaghetti chitarra, cooked al dente, mixed with a quickly-prepared sauce composed of a little olive oil, 3 bruised garlic cloves from Trader Joe’s, one whole dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, 4 or 5 ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm (the roughly-chopped bulbs tossed in first, the leaves, sliced lengthwise, following later), 8 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, chopped fresh peppermint from Lani’s Farm, and a pinch or two of dry organic wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, both during the cooking and as a ‘topping’ once the pasta had been divided into shallow bowls
• the wine was an Italian (Alba) white, Vigneto Masera Stefano Massone Gavi 2014
• the music was the entire album, ‘Yarn​/​Wire​/​Currents Vol. 1‘, which was one of 3 we purchased tonight after that awesome ensemble‘s magnificent performance of Michael Gordon’s ‘Material’ at Miller Theatre