Sicily.

It was a Sicilian meal, well, creatively Sicilian. Calamari are definitely a Sicilian thing, and the wine was Sicilian. Lots of herbs familiar in Sicilian cooking showed up, like oregano (here from the Madonie Mountains, Sicily); basil (the Hudson Highlands, in New York); and there’s no dispute about the importance of anything fennel in Sicily, here fennel flowers (the Catskill Mountains, New York); there was olive oil of course (not from Sicily, but at least from southern Italy, Puglia; there was pepperoncino (the plains of Turri, Sardinia, the next island north of Sicily), and there was garlic (New York again); lemon was important (here the California Central Valley?); and there were also tomatoes (very Sicilian – via Spain – even if these came from the area in New Jersey the Delaware culture called, Tuphanne [cold water], today’s Old Tappan); there was one large zucchini, or at least a relative of the zucchini (this one grown in the Green Mountains of Vermont); finally, the northern Italian radiccchio of which there are some traces in Sicily, at least these days (had that not been the case, this little Sicily conceit would have been a deceit; the radicchio I used came from the our own north, that same farm in those same Green Mountains).

As for the dessert, peaches are Italian, although the 2 we had were from the Marlboro Mountains in New York (the farm is owned by an Italian-American family).

 

*Chicories are grown in Sicilian gardens, even though they appear to have been an invention, or re-invention of the north of Italy.

 

• a large enameled cast iron pan heated until quite hot, its cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and, while the oil was hot, about 13 ounces of rinsed and dried squid from Blue Moon Fish in the Union Square Greenmarket, bodies and tentacles, arranged very quickly in it, immediately sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and part of a crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, followed by drizzling a few tablespoons of juice from an organic lemon and some olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for 4-5 minutes, removed, distributed onto 2 plates, and drizzled with the cooking juices, pieces of lemon served on the side

piccolo squash in the market; trifolati minutes before removed from the heat

 

• a luscious, re-imagined classic summer-squash-and-tomato trifolati made by sautéing chopped pieces of an egg-shape piccolo summer squash (or ‘round green squash’) from Tamarack Hollow Farm with 2 sliced garlic cloves from Alewife Farm inside a large enameled cast iron pan, until the squash began to brown, followed by some of ‘the best cherry tomatoes‘, from Stokes Farm, along with salt and pepper, stirred well and cooked for 5 minutes, during which time pieces cut or torn from the core of a head of radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm were gradually added, the thicker parts first, the pan removed from the heat and some basil from Sycamore Farm, torn, added, the vegetables drizzled with olive oil, covered, and allowed to sit for 10 minutes to half of an hour or so [the recipe appears in “Italian Too Easy“], served on the plates sprinkled with fragrant fennel blossoms from Mountain Sweeet Berry Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Grillo, Ca’ Lustra di Zanovello, from Astor Wines & Spirits
• the music was Antonio Vivaldi’s 1728 opera, ‘L’Atenaide’, in a brilliant performance by Modo Antiquo, directed by Federico Maria Sardelli

The very good Melissa Clark salmon recipe I’ve been using lately really needs a few hours of lead time for its marinade to do its job properly, and last night I didn’t have any lead time at all.  I turned instead to a Mark Bittman recipe, ‘Four-Spice Salmon’, which I have found equally good. I’ve used it several times, although not since the beginning of last year. It too involves a ‘rub’, but it’s one which requires no waiting.

• a 14-ounce fillet of fresh wild Coho salmon from Whole Foods, seasoned with salt and pepper, rubbed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, sautéed over medium-high heat for a few minutes on each side in an enameled, cast iron pan [a little squeeze of lemon would normally be appropriate here, and maybe a drizzleof good olive oil, but I neglected to do either last night]
• thin yellow beans (haricots jaune/fagioli gialli) from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled in a large pot of salted water until barely softened, drained, heated in the same pan to dry, then set aside until warmed up, when the salmon began to cook, in a cast iron pan, with a small amount of  olive oil and some dried ramp blossoms (for a mild, complex, garlic-like effect) from Berried Treasures earlier this year, then seasoned with salt and pepper, and mixed with a handful of ‘Mexican gherkins’, from Norwich Meadows Farm, which had been halved and sautéed in a separate pan until they had barely begun to color on the edges, evrything sprinkled, once on the plates, with fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• a small handful of  ‘the best cherry tomatoes’, from Stokes Farm, halved, sautéed very briefly in olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, a mix of chopped herbs (parsley, lovage, tarragon, savory, thyme, and mint) stirred into the small vintage pyrex pan in which they had been heated
• a little wild water cress from Max Creek Hatchery, dressed with a good Campania olive oil, maldon salt and ground tellicherry pepper
• the wine was an Austrian (Kamptal) rosé, Schloss Gobelsburg Schlosskellerei Cistercien Rosé 2015
• the music was Matthew Locke’s 1675 ‘dramatick opera’, “Psyche’, performed by the New London Consort and the New London Consort Chorus, directed by Philip Pickett

Only after I had plated fish and the vegetables did it occur to me that they would have looked so much better had I thought ahead and included some color, like any one or more of the tomatoes in various colors sitting on the window sill across from the table. Still, even unembellished, the entrée was scrumptious; I don’t think it could have been improved.

Porgy is a magnificent fish, as I’ve written here before, and these pale-green long eggplants (I did not get their name from the farmer, but I will ask) were incredibly juicy and sweet.

 

• two 5 1/2-ounce Porgy fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, dried, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan-seared, along with a thinly-sliced red scallions from Rise & Root Farm, over medium heat inside an oval copper pan in a bit of butter and a little olive oil, the fish basted, using a small brush, with the the scallion butter and oil for about 2 minutes, more or less continually, then carefully turned over, the heat reduced to low, a cover (I used aluminum foil) placed on the pan and the filets cooked for about another minute before the cover was removed and 2 or 3 tablespoons of mixed fresh herbs thrown in (I used parsley, lovage, tarragon, savory, thyme, and mint this time), after which the basting continued for about another minute, or until the fish was cooked through, at which time the fillets were arranged on the 2 plates, and a small handful of stemmed oxalis from Alewife Farm was thrown into the pan, stirred for a few seconds, scooped up with the juices and sprinkled on top (the recipe has been slightly modified from one written by Melissa Clark)
• three medium long pale-green eggplants from Campo Rosso Farm, split lengthwise, scored, brushed with a mixture of oil, finely-chopped garlic from Keith’s Farm, and chopped fresh budding oregano from Stokes Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning once, then sprinkled with fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm [the basic recipe is here]

 

There was fruit, for a simple dessert.

• six small green figs (unfortunately, their origin unknown) from Eataly

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a South African (Paarl) white, J. Joostenberg Estate Die Agteros Chenin Blanc 2015, purchased at Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music included symphonies/sinfonias by Franz Josef Haydn and WIlhelm Friedmann Bach, performed by Giovanni Antonini conducting Il Giardino Armonico

Until the night before cooking this meal I hadn’t thought about the fact that there had been no meat entrée on our table in almost 2 weeks. It was probably my thinking about the purple carrots I had bought a few days earlier that made me think I should prepare something, with a little substance than seafood, a frittata, or a light pasta, something, well,.. ‘meaty’.

Just before the meal I found myself extending the idea of ‘substantial’ to thoughts about a sauce, something I rarely do to the very simple recipe I regularly use.

Some of you may know of and even share my interest in ‘garum‘ (at least from afar). It seems I may have tripped over a vegetable near-equivalent, although one with a taste far less difficult to acquire. Just about a week before this meal I had served a flounder fillet with a ‘tomato butter’. I did not use all of the tomato sauce, so I put what remained in the refrigerator, sealed, later adding to it more seasoned heirloom tomato juices, produced in preparing a later meal (I’m no longer sure which one).

Last night I tasted this still-curing little treasure, and decided it would definitely work with the duck.

 

To introduce the meal, there was the most minimal of appetizers, as an excuse to enjoy the remainder of a bottle of wine we had started the night before.

• terrific rustic Italian breadsticks, Mario Fongo grissini integrali, from Buon Italia
• the wine was a New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling rosé, Gruet Brut Rosé

 

• one 13-ounce boneless duck breast from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a little turbinado sugar (in our kitchen, the bowl of sugar has been infused over time with a vanilla bean), the duck left standing for 45 minutes or so before it was pan-fried, fatty side down first, in a tiny bit of oil over medium heat, usually draining the oil part of the way through (to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired), but I decided not to this time, removed when medium rare and cut into 2 portions to check for doneness (that is, not so done), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of organic lemon, a coating of ‘tomato butter’ [described above], a sprinkling of oxalis from Alewife Farm, and drops of a very good Campania olive oil (the tenderloin, removed earlier from the breast and also marinated, is always fried very briefly near the end of the time the breast itself is cooking)
• wild watercress from Max Creek Hatchery, dressed with the Campania olive oil, salt, and pepper

 

In the photograph at the top of this post the carrots look charred, in reality, it’s an attribute of their color[s] (that is, purple outside, lighter, almost orange, inside, before they are cooked), a little intentional caramelizing on their edges, and the available light.

 

• purple carrots from Paffenroth Farms, scrubbed, lightly-scraped with a paring knife, cut into small diagonal pieces, and, to avoid a hot oven last night, sautéed until tender on top of the range in a large seasoned cast iron frying pan, some sea salt added while doing so, then sprinkled with freshly-ground pepper and served scattered with fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• the wine with the main course was a California (North Coast) red, the gift of a friend, Cartlidge & Browne Merlot 2013

• the music for most of the meal was the album, ‘Miklos Rozsa’s Double Life: Concert Music For Strings’

We eat at home almost every night, but it was an anniversary, so we had made dinner reservations for Saturday night, at a restaurant in Bushwick which we had really liked on a previous visit. A few hours before we were to leave the apartment, knowing we would have to battle some mean heat and humidity before we got there, we decided to continue enjoying our good humor and cancel, vowing to do it another day.

We had done without it all day, but I now turned the AC on in the kitchen and breakfast room area, then checked the refrigerator and the larder to see what I could put together.

I came up with something that, under those circumstances, really had no right to taste as good as it did.

• a caprese salad which repeated the process of the night before, but on a much smaller scale, and this time included a ‘bed’ of leaves from a head of radicchio from Tamrack Hollow Farm
• slices of a loaf of Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ from Foragers Market

 

• about 8 ounces of Setaro Penne Rigatoni, from Buon Italia, tossed with a sauce which started with 2 chopped garlic cloves from Alewife Farm and a tablespoon or so of dry fennel seed heated in olive oil inside a large cast iron enameled pot until fragrant, adding a little cherry bomb/red bomb pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, finely slivered, and a couple handfuls of seeded and chopped sweet peppers of various colors and shapes from Campo Rosso Farm, were sautéed until softened, finished with one good-sized, bulbous red scallion from Rise & Root Farm, sliced, again sautéed until soft, the mix emulsified with some of the reserved pasta cooking water, then scooped into bowls, and garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge

 

• the wine was a New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling rosé, Gruet Brut Rosé
• the music was Antonio Vivaldi’s very silly, but absolutely beautiful 1731 opera, ‘La Fida Ninfa’

We had a pretty special guest for dinner. The meal had to be special too.

I expected the evening was going to be warm, and at least a little humid, but I wanted us to be able to sit by the open windows next to the roof garden; at least some of the meal plan had to address the subject of kitchen heat.

There would have been a first course in any event, and it would be one which did not require cooking, but since the fish I had purchased were slightly smaller than I would have liked, and because there were suddenly more perfectly-ripe tomatoes sitting on the windowsill than I had expected, it ended up a wee bit larger than I would normally have set out.

I had picked up some black sea bass at the market that morning, because I love the fish, and I was pretty sure our guest would too. It also had the attribute, at least as I have always prepared it, of requiring only about 3 or 4 minutes of direct heat, and that entirely on top of the stove.

I chose the vegetable which would accompany the fish, thin green beans, both for their freshness and beauty and the fact that they could be parboiled well ahead of time, avoiding heating up the kitchen around the time we would be sitting down (they were very briefly reheated over a low flame just before serving)

We hung around in the parlor before the meal, nibbling on some very good whole wheat rustic Italian breadsticks from Buon Italia, and sipping some very good sparkling wine, with an awesome color.

• the wine was a California (Lodi) sparkling, Folk Tree Pétillant California Sparkling Wine 2014

 

• a caprese salad, asembled with various kinds of heirloom tomatoes from from Campo Rosso Farm, very fresh store-made mozzarella from Eataly, basil leaves from Sycamore Farm, Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and a Campania olive oil, D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’
• a superb bread, a baguette monge, from Maison Kayser
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2014

 

• three 5-ounce sea bass fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, dredged in seasoned coarse stone-ground flour which had been spread across a plate, then dipped in a mixture of one egg from Millport Dairy Farm which had been whipped with a few tablespoons of chopped parsley from Stokes Farm, sautéed for a couple of minutes in a mixture of butter and olive oil inside a heavy enameled cast iron pan pan, skin side down first, then turned, sautéed for little more than another minute (until the fish was cooked through; the time will vary each time with the size of the fillets and the height of the flame), removed from the pan and placed on 3 plates, the heat below the pan now turned off, and the juices remaining in the pan scattered with some oxalis aka ‘wood sorrel’ from Alewife Farm (the stems first removed) and pushed around with a wooden spatula for a moment, the juices then divided on top of the three fillets, finishing with a squeeze of an organic lemon from Whole Foods, and, finally, the bass dressed with more (fresh) oxalis leaves
• haricots verts from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, left whole, blanched, drained and dried in the pan over heat, shaking, set aside until just before sautéing of the bass was to begin, reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and stemmed fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2015

There was a cheese course; it included a fruit.

• There were 4 great cheeses, all from Consider Bardwell Farm: ‘Manchester’, a goat cheese, ‘Pawlet’, a rich cow milk cheese, and their 2 new-ish blues, ‘Barden Blue’, a cow cheese, and an awesome goat blue which has not yet been named (although I’ve suggested they call it ‘Wellen’)
• ripe green figs from Eataly (the store, remarkably, could not tell me where they had been grown)
• the wine was a California (Central Coast) rosé, Keith Hock Exit 43 California Bollicine in Bianco 2014

 

• the music throughout a long meal was mostly that of Johann Christian Bach; one of the albums was the 6 early Symphonies, published in 1765, performed by Sir Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields

Our breakfast on many Sundays includes bacon, toast, and eggs – with trimmings – but most days we stick with various dry cereals, a few mixed raisin breeds, and a very good milk or a good Amish farm yoghurt (plain, occasionally with maple sugar). This formula doesn’t require planning (or thinking), it’s also fast, not unhealthy, and easy (the last not no trivial consideration when I’m cooking a full dinner every night).

Probably half-consciously revisiting my experiences living in Germany ,and other parts, instead of the American cereal breakfast I’ll sometimes have one or two confitures, with rich butter and some fresh or toasted bread, when there’s a particularly interesting loaf, or part of a loaf, in the ancient tin breadbox on the kitchen counter.

This past Thursday Barry and I both sat down to a tiny late-morning feast on that order; it was inspired by two relatively-recent gifts, wonderful homemade jams from friends.

• ‘fresh-squeezed’ orange juice from Whole Foods
• a jar of spectacularly-delicious wild strawberry jam Barry received as a gift from Lisa Steinhauser-Gleinser, artist, writer, art historian, bicyclist, and a beautiful Potsdam friend we had only known on line until she joined us and other friends to celebrate Barry’s birthday at Prater, in Berlin this spring; and a jar of homemade blackberry jam from Russ Spitkovsky, artist, founder of Carrier Pigeon, master printmaker, and the studio director (and gardner!) at Guttenberg Arts, whom we had only met on our first visit last Sunday
• slices of a fresh loaf of Sullivan Street Bakery’s ‘Commune’, which Barry had run out to get that morning
• there was coffee, espresso for me, iced espresso for Barry

Gorgeous. And good-for-us. Also, very simple, very quick.

 

• eight ounces from a package of Setaro Nodi Marini from Buon Italia cooked until al dente, tossed into a large enameled cast iron pan in which thin slices sections of red scallion from Rise & Root Farm and a small amount of chopped cherry bomb/red bomb pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm had been sautéed until beginning to soften, a generous amount of very ripe whole sun gold tomatoes from Down Home Acres added, the mix seasoned with sea salt and freshly-chopped Tellicherry pepper, stirred, and emulsified by stirring further over a low flame with a little reserved pasta water, served in bowls, drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs which had been seasoned and toasted in a little olive oil, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, San Quirico Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2014
• the music was an album of works by Miklós Maros, Jouni Kaipainen, Atli Heimir Sveinsson, Erik Bergman, Kaija Saariaho, and Usko Meriläinen, performed by the Cluster Ensemble

I love these colors, and they taste as good as they look.

On my second run-through in preparing spigarello, I remembered to slip the leaves off of their somewhat sturdier stems, but I forgot my other major admonition: be sure to blanch this green before sautéing it. Unblanched, it was more than a little bitter, at least until we squeezed more lemon and drizzled more oil on top. Three times will be perfect, nah?

• two small (5 or 6-ounce) tuna steaks from Blue Moon Fish Company, rubbed top and bottom with a mixture of dry Italian fennel seed and one and a half dried Itria-Sirissi chilis, peperoncino di Sardegna intero, from Buon Italia, first ground together in a mortar-and-pestle, the tuna additionally seasoned with salt and pepper, pan-grilled for only a little more than a minute or so on each side, finished with a good squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil, and a scattering of purple radish micro greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• spigarello (Cavolo Broccolo a Getti di Napoli, or Minestra Nera) from Norwich Meadow Farm, stems removed, washed, drained, sautéed in olive oil in which one chopped garlic and a small amount of a chopped cherry bomb/red bomb pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm had first been softened, sprinkled with a little Limoneira lemon juice and drizzled with olive oil [note: these greens really have to be blanched for a couple minutes to tone down their natural bitterness, and I failed to do that this time]
• one yellow heirloom tomato from Keith’s Farm, sliced horizontally into four disks and placed on the plates, where it was drizzled with a good Campania olive oil, D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’, seasoned with Maldon salt and Tellicherry pepper, sprinkled with fresh fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• slices from a loaf of ‘Commune’ from Sullivan Street Bakery

There was a cheese course.

• three great cheeses from Consider Bardwell Farm: ‘Dorset’, a rich, buttery washed-rind cow milk cheese, and their 2 new-ish blues, ‘Barden Blue’, a cow cheese, and an awesome goat blue which has not yet been named (although I’ve suggested ‘Wellen’)
• very thin slices of ‘Commune’ from Sullivan Street Bakery

 

• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) rosé, the sturdy Calabretta Terre Siciliane IGT Rosato 2014, from Astor Wines & Spirits
• the music was some of the symphonic music of Joseph Boulogne, chevalier de Saint-Georges, champion fencer, virtuoso violinist, and conductor of the leading symphony orchestra in Paris in the late 1790’s. Born in Guadeloupe, he was the son of a wealthy planter, and his African slave, Nanon

The colors don’t stop, and still they only begin to reflect the complexity of the flavors.

Last night I also invited a new vegetable to the table. A spiny cucumber with a tail, and a very tasty cucumber it is. Before I sautéed it I tasted it raw, and it was delicious, but I wanted to treat it as a warm aside to the fish I had bought on Monday. The Jamaican burr cucumber is native to West Africa, but it seems to have arrived in our young republic, by way of Jamaica, in the late eighteenth century, where, according to early-twentieth-century naturalist Julia Ellen Rogers, they now “..wind their branching tendrils over the shrubby growth of neglected fence rows, along the river banks, and hang their spiny fruits where all can see, ..the wild representatives we have of a great botanical family, that has furnished us many useful garden vegetables and fruits“.

 

• two hake fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, dredged in seasoned flour and dipped in a beaten egg from Millport Dairy, sautéed in butter and a little olive oil with some oregano buds from Stokes Farm for a few minutes, or until cooked through, drizzled with organic lemon juice, tranferred to 2 plates, any juices remaining in the pan distributed over them, along with some tomato-red scallion-tarragon ‘butter’ left from the dinner the night before, followed by a sprinkling of micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• Jamaica burr cucumbers [Cucumis anguria] from Norwich Meadows Farm, quartered, sautéed in olive oil until lightly browned, seasoned with sea salt
• a salad of chopped heirloom tomatoes (2 colors) from Keith’s Farm, mixed with sliced red scallions from Hawthorne Valley Farm, seasoned with maldon salt and freshly ground tellicherry pepper, dressed with a Campania olive oil, D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’, and a white balsamic vinegar, placed in low bowls on top of leaves of radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm and sprinkled with torn basil from Sycamore Farms
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, David Akiyoshi Chardonnay Clarksburg 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was the Bridge Records album, ‘Music of Stefan Wolpe, Vol. 7‘