I was pretty excited to find cardoons in the Greenmarket on Monday. The excitement continued all the way through its several cooking processes – even while working inside a very warm and humid kitchen – and it survived the entire meal.

Barry, who is crazy about artichokes, which are related to cardoons (both are thistles) was less enthusiastic, because he thought they were too bitter, even after some extended boiling and sautéing (“a bit like eating only the outermost leaves of an artichoke”). I think I have a higher tolerance for weird, medicinal, or bitter flavors (it’s why Barry is almost always the one who tests the wine).

The recipe I used asked for mushrooms. I didn’t have any, although had I known I could have easily brought some home from Union Square. I was reasonably confident I could do without them, and with most recipes that would be possible, but here their presence would probably have moderated some of the acidity. The other recipes for these ‘artichoke thistles’ all seemed to involve either an oven or some deep frying, and I wanted to avoid both expedients.

I think I’ll know better what to expect next time, and there will definitely be a next time. I’ve assembled several new recipes even since preparing last night’s dinner.

There were herbs (there area almost always herbs), sage and parsley for the hake, peppermint for the cardoons.

• two hake fillets (a total of one pound), from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, dredged in local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour seasoned with plenty of sea salt and fresh-ground Tellicherry pepper, dipped in a shallow bowl in which one egg from Millport Dairy and about a tablespoon of Trickling Springs Creamery 2% milk had been beaten together with a fork, sautéed in 2 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, along with 3 very large fresh sage leaves from Phillips Farms, inside a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan for about 7 minutes, turning the sections half of the way through, then sprinkled with organic lemon juice from Whole Foods Market and the small amount of pan juices that remained, arranged on 2 plates, garnished with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm, served with lemon wedges on the side
• one stalk of cardoons form Alewife Farm, trimmed, cut into one-inch lengths, prepared (including blanching for about 20 or 25 minutes), along the lines of these instructions, placed without crowding too much, over medium heat inside a large heavy cast iron well-seasoned pan after several tablespoons of the same Organic Valley butter had been placed in it, had melted, and the had foam subsided, the flame reduced to medium-low, the vegetables sautéed, stirring occasionally, until they took on a bit of color, or for about 10 to 12 minutes, followed by one section of an orange/gold dried habanada pepper and one large clove of Rocambole garlic, chopped, from Keith’s Farm, cooked for a very few minutes, or until the garlic was tender, and finally about half a cup of fresh bread crumbs (a white baguette from Whole Foods Market baked a day or two before) and a pinch of salt, the heat turned up to medium-high, and the contents of the pan cooked, stirring occasionally, until the crumbs browned a bit and the cardoons fully tender (and, ideally, sweet), or about 5 minutes longer, the dish seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates, a bit of lemon juice and some chopped peppermint from Phillips Farm sprinkled over the top
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Ligeti, Murail and Benjamin: Musica Viva Vol 22’, George Benjamin conducting the Bavarian RSO and Pierre-Laurent Aimard

Fred Plotkin is the author of this simple pasta concept. It was one of several excellent very minimal recipes that appeared in an article, ‘Pasta From the Provinces’, which I tore out of the May, 1986 issue of ‘GQ’. The magazine’s pages have frayed and torn (they were printed before many of our friends had even been born), but the recipe has not; in fact it only gets better as its competition becomes increasingly complex in this increasingly complex age.

Fred writes that the recipe came from Signora Francesca Santonocito, “..an excellent Sicilian cook whose recipes I have come to know through her daughter, Luciana.” (it seems that most recipes, or at least the very best, are only restatements of ones created earlier, which were most likely themselves restatements).

I’ve made this dish a number of times, beginning inside my Broad and Water streets loft weeks after I cut it out of the magazine, but tonight, when Barry requested it, I realized we had not enjoyed it since I began writing this food blog in 2009.

Spaghetti with fried zucchini.

The only change I made to this classic last night was the addition of some fresh thyme.

• two round zucchini from Alewife Farm (10 or 11 ounces). sliced very thinly (approximately 1//16th of an inch), sautéed, without crowding, in 2 batches, turning once, inside a very large heavy cast iron oiled pan over a relatively hot flame until they had almost caramelized, scattered with chopped thyme leaves from Stokes Farm, before the squash was joined and mixed inside its pan by 8 ounces of Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano Spaghetto from Eataly, cooked al dente, and a little of the reserved pasta cooking water (to emulsify the sauce), seasoned with freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper and arranged in 2 low bowls, some Sicilian olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta, and a modest amount of freshly-grated Fulvi Pecorino Romano DOP, from Eataly, distributed over the top
• the wine throughout was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wines
• the music throughout was a recording of Beethoven’s three Razumovsky [or Rasumovsky] string quartets, opus 59, performed by the Alexander String Quartet

There were several internationally-sourced ‘spicy’ elements, broadly understood, in this breakfast, including Indian black pepper, a heatless Cornel habañero, peppery Connecticut nasturtium leaves, and a Basque piment powder.

Otherwise it was mostly bacon and eggs and toast.

• There were six pastured chicken eggs from John Stoltzfoos’ Millport Dairy Farm stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, fried sunny side up; Millport Dairy thick bacon, toasts from two different sturdy breads, a multigrain baguette (unbleached wheat flour, whole wheat dark rye, white starter, honey, sugar grain mix {millet, sunflower, coarse rye, oats, flax seed, sesame) from She Wolf Bakery, and a loaf of Balthazar Bakery sourdough rye from Schaller & Weber; stems of some baby French Leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm; Maldon Salt, freshly-ground Tellicherrry pepper, pinches of a homemade French Basque piment d’Espellate purchased in a small town north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec 3 and a half years ago from the producer’s daughter; more of the same mix of herbs assembled for the dinner of two days before , and for the tomato salad last night as well (a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm); a little Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, for the toasts that were too rigid for dipping into the egg yolks; and micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the music, which we listened to while we sat at the breakfast room window open to the garden, was ‘Olivier Messiaen: Complete Bird Music For Piano Solo’, performed by  Carl-Axel Dominique, in 3 CD discs (3 hours, 29 minutes)

Red or green?

The sausage was German, but with a bit of a kink (there was a lot of spice). Still, it was produced by a family-owned and now legendary New York German butcher shop, so we both thought of pursuing the idea of a German meal through a judicious choice of its accompaniments, even if it would be more of a creative, 21st-century and (narrowly) cosmopolitan German meal.

I had probably, without knowing it, been saving that package of Spätzle noodles for just such an occasion, as I hadn’t felt they represented the echt thing (which has to be egg noodles made by hand, at home), and I was reluctant to pass them off as such. This seemed to be the right moment to try them out.

We had first tasted these fantastic sausages, on buns, with condiments, at Schaller’s Stube, which is, naturally (was sonst?), a ‘sausage bar’. Half of the name, and probably almost half of the sausages special interest, comes from a certain ingredient, ‘hatch pepper‘, identified with New Mexico, and not with Germany.

So I thought it made at least some sense, at least using a little imagination, to accompany these capsicum-flavored sausages, and the German ghost pasta, with some really excellent tomatoes I had ripening on the breakfast room windowsill, since both peppers and tomatoes originated in the lands of what is today known as Latin America.

• four smoked hatch chile sausages from Schalle & Weber, pan grilled until they looked just a little blistery, served with a bit of ‘Meretina’ horseradish spread from Schaller & Weber and some organic German-style Texas-manufactured mustard from Whole Foods Market
• eight ounces or so from a packaged Swabian specialty, ‘Traditional German Egg Pasta Spaetzle’, made in Trochtelfingen, Baden-Württemberg, Germany
  by Bechtle (I don’t remember where it was purchased), cooked in a large pot of salted water for about 10 minutes, turned into a large high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which most of one thinly sliced red onion from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd St. farmers market had been sautéed, along with a little dried orange/gold habanada pepper, in a couple tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ from Whole Foods Market, until the onion was more than softened, the mix seasoned with sea salt and Tellicherry pepper, a couple teaspoons of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm added and tossed in, garnished on the plates with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• two large heirloom tomatoes from from Sycamore Farms, cut into wedges, tossed with a roughly-chopped section of the same red onion used with the Spätzle, seasoned with sea salt and Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with some Sicilian olive oil from Whole Foods, and a little white balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with the same mix of herbs assembled for the dinner of the day before (a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm)
• the wine was a California (Central Coast) rosé, Keith Hock Central Coast Rosé 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘The Eos Ensemble / Jonathan Sheffer ‎– Music For Merce‘, a choice inspired by our visit to the first rooms of the Museum of Modern Art’s Rauschenberg retrospective that day (we will be returning, probably more than once, to the exhibition)

We love whiting, but because we have it so seldom I’m only reminded of just how much once we sit down to enjoy it again.

This meal was an excellent reminder.

• one 12-ounce whiting fillet from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, cut into 2 pieces, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, placed inside a heavy tin-lined oval copper pan and prepared something like this terrific Melissa Clark recipe (which can be used for almost any white fish fillet), using one thick thick scallion from Alex’s Tomato Farm (the 23rd Street Satuday market), Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, at least 4 tablespoons of a mix of 7 different chopped herbs (this time a combination of peppermint, bush basil, and oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, summer savory and thyme from Stokes Farm, fennel frond from Alewife Farm, and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm), briefly improvising a little aluminum foil for the cover mentioned in the recipe, and using a wooden spoon to repeatedly spread/ladle the scallion-herb butter over the fillets (there was plenty of room in the pan this time); the lemon juice was from an organic fruit from Whole Foods Market

But there’s much more to a good dinner than its protein stars, however wonderful they may be. These images include [most of] the herbs and vegetables I used this time, while they waited to dry, occupying virtually all of the counter surfaces of our kitchen.

• one white ‘Boothby’ cucumber from Willow Wisp Farm, sliced thickly, dried, sautéed inside a large high-sided tin-lined copper pan in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until the pieces had begun to color, turning once, then joined by several baby French Leeks (using the white sections and some of the lighter green) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and some sliced fennel stems, both from Alewife Farm, everything sautéed until somewhat caramelized, sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper added, and, when the heat had been turned off, a large handful of very ripe small golden cherry tomatoes, also from Alewife Farm, rolled around inside the pan with the rest of the vegetables until warmed through but still whole, the vegetables arranged on the plates and garnished with micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge

There had also been an antipasto.

• Applegate Naturals prosciutto from Whole Foods (a 4 ounce package), wrapped around the tines of a large fork, arranged on 2 plates, drizzled with a good olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly
• some really good red dandelion leaves from Norwich Meadows Farm, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with the same oil and a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon
• slices of a small “Medieval Baguette’, from Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse in Union Square Greenmarket

 

• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) white, Carabella Vineyard Pinot Gris Estate Chehalem Mountains 2014, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was Vivaldi’s only surviving oratorio, his 1716 ‘Juditha Triumphans’, a breathtaking work – and performance, Alessandro de Marchi conducting the Academia Montis Regalis

They were the largest and plumpest quail we have ever enjoyed. They turned out to be the tastiest as well, so we didn’t complain about the usual delicate carving operation required with tiny whole birds.

I could have flattened and pan-grilled them of course, saving some labor at the table and also avoiding a hot oven on a warm summer evening, but I was looking forward to seeing the little roasts arranged on the plates, and by using the air conditioning in the ‘breakfast room’, we were able to keep the dining table area cool.

We normally share 4 smaller quail between us for a main course, but these two approximated the weight of 4 of those raised in Georgia, so last night a single bird was enough for one serving.

The recipe had to be right, so I went looking for something suitable for roasting what I expected would be a special bird. I found this one on Simply Recipes, and, except for a few adjustments, I pretty much ran with it.

• after turning on the oven, and while waiting for it to heat to 400°F, two whole unboned (8+ ounce) pasture-raised certified organic quail from Abra Morawiec’s Feisty Acres Farm in Jamesport, Long Island, were washed and dried inside and out before each cavity was stuffed with a quarter of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and half of the following mix: 4 garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm, peeled and bruised a little, the leaves of 2 sprigs of fresh thyme sprigs from Stokes Farm, the leaves of one sprig of fresh rosemary from Keith’s Farm, and one and a half tablespoons of Sicilian olive oil from Whole Foods Market, the quail then rubbed with olive oil and sea salt, trussed with string (holding legs together and wings against the breasts), the birds set aside and allowed to come to room temperature (allowing at least 20 minutes from the refrigerator), at which time they were quickly browned on all sides inside a small heavy enameled cast iron oval pan and, using sections of fennel stems to keep the birds breast-upright while they roasted (or celery stalks, or whatever suitable vegetable might be available), for about 20 minutes, but most importantly, until an instant-read thermometer registered 150º (the meat should also feel slightly firm, and the juices run pale pink when the bird is punctured with a skewer), adding half way through almost half a cup of white wine, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2016 (a very good chicken stock would be an alternative), the birds removed from the pan when done and set aside on a wooden plank or warm plate to rest for about 10 minutes, loosely tented with foil, while the sauce was assembled, beginning with discarding the fennel stems and placing the roasting pan on a burner above medium heat, adding a little chicken stock or wine (I used a sherry, Lustau, ‘Papirusa’ Light Manzanilla Sherry, from Sherry Lehmann), deglazing the pan by scraping any browned bits off the bottom, bringing the liquid to a simmer, pouring it into a small pot or sauté pan with about half a cup of a (hopefully inexpensive) balsamic vinegar, increasing the heat to high and boiling the liquid down to a syrup, or until it is able to coat the back of a spoon, the quail served on the plates with the sauce drizzled over everything and the birds garnished with micro nasturtium leaves from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• one small fennel bulb from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, sliced in half, then into wedges, sautéed in olive oil , along with some of the more tender stems, along with a little chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, served garnished with chopped fennel fronds

• red Swiss chard from Willow Wisp Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm had been heated, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little olive oil
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, using 2 Portuguese grapes (Touriga and Tempranillo), from Naked Wines
• the music was Jean-Philippe Rameau’s 1749-1756 opera, ‘Zoroastre’, the last of the composer’s tragédies en musique to be performed in his lifetime, William Christie conducting Les Arts Florissants ‎

It was a symbiotic relationship: The squid had to marinate for about half an hour, and the zucchini, which would take almost that long to prepare and grill, could be served warm or room temperature.

• twelve ounces of cleaned squid, bodies and tentacles, from Blue Moon Seafood, marinated for about half an hour (half of that time in the refrigerator) in a bowl containing a mixture of the zest and juice of most of one lemon, minced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, Sicilian olive oil, super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, removed from the marinade, drained, pan-grilled briefly over high heat, arranged on 2 plates, sprinkled with fresh organic lemon juice from Whole Foods Market, scattered with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm, finished with a drizzle of olive oil

• two round zucchini (10 or 11 ounces) from Willow Wisp Farm, sliced about 1/4 inch thick, brushed with a little olive mixed with minced garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt and Tellicherry pepper, pan grilled over a medium high flame, turning three times, partly in order to encourage some grill marks from the pan process on top of the range, arranged on a platter, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with olive oil and torn mint from Norwich Meadows Farm, transferred to the plates when the squid had been cooked
• the wine was a Spanish (Rias Baixas) white, Martin Codax Albarino 2016, from Philippe Liquors and Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Barockes Welttheater: Schmelzer Sonatas and Ballets‘, featuring the music of Johann Heinrich Schmelzer, from the later 17th-century Habsburg courts, performed by the Freiburger Barockconsort

The pork chop recipe is a classic, but I may never have worked with cuts this thin before. It meant that it was more difficult to get the kind of juiciness characteristic of this cooking treatment, but by cutting the original recipe’s oven time almost in half (the recipe is described here), I came pretty close to the ideal.

 

• two not very thick 8-ounce pork chops from the Schaller & Weber store, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and a generous amount of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy oval enameled cast-iron pan, half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed over each, after which the lemon was left on the surface between the chops, the pan placed in a 425º oven for only about 5 minutes, flipped over, a crushed fragment of an orange-gold habanada pepper sprinkled on top and the lemon squeezed over the top once again, and replaced in the pan, which was returned to the oven for another 5 minutes, the finished chops then arranged on 2 plates, some of the pan juices poured over the top of each, the remainder poured into a sauce boat for use at the table [I had intended to garnish the chops with some purple micro radish but then forgot to do so, so they look a bit more simple than they do sometimes]
• red dandelion leaves from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with some good olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly, juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
• There was also a salad, arranged inside a low bowl next to the plates (barely visible in the picture), consisting of layers of 3 differently-colored heirloom tomatoes and one small red onion, all from Norwich Meadows Farm, topped with chopped bush basil and torn mint leaves, the herbs also from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with white balsamic vinegar, Maldon salt, and Tellicherry pepper, and mixed together by each of us at the table.

 

There was a cheese course. A dab of an Italian quince compote was added to the plate after the photograph below was taken (a very welcome guest).

 

• the cheeses, all from Consider Bardwell Farm, were, from left to right, ‘Manchester’ a goat cheese, ‘Pawlet’ cow cheese, and a still-unnamed blue goat cheese,
• there were garnishes on the plates, of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper and chopped dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm
• toasts made from slices of a She Wolf Bakery multigrain baguette (unbleached wheat flour, whole wheat dark rye, white starter, honey, sugar grain mix {millet, sunflower, coarse rye, oats, flax seed, sesame)

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Lodi) white, F. Stephen Millier Angels Reserve Chardonnay Lodi 2016, from Naked Wines 
• the music throughout was Man Bartlett’s ‘Meditation for a morning commute‘, vocals and ambient sound recorded live on a downtown A train using only an iPhone (apeDelay, Echo Pitch, Reverb, Audiobus and AudioShare iOS apps), which he had composed today, followed by his 2016 album, ‘Space on Earth‘, described by the artist as “..the first album from a body of work I’ve been hearing in my head since 2012. Around that time I was becoming increasingly overwhelmed by the nonstop onslaught of New York, so I started thinking about sound as a meditative and transformational medium; basically as a way to calm my eyeballs and counter-stimulate my brain.”

I’ve now prepared this dish twice, and last night it was at least as delicious as the first time. There is a lot going on in it, but I’ve become convinced that bluefish was made to be richly accompanied: It’s not like this strong fish is likely to be easily overwhelmed by anything, even this combination of tomato, onion, wine vinegar, dark olives, lemon, a spicy pepper, and a couple of herbs.

The okra looked very good inside the farmers’ tent in Union Square, and I picked it to accompany the fish, because, as something of a Hellenic staple, it would pair well with a fish preparation described as Greek.

I would usually add a bit of pepperoncino to the okra, but since I was using some with the fish, I decided to substitute a bit of dark dried habanada; the results were subtle, adding a complexity to what is normally a pretty straight-forward green vegetable.

• two two bluefish fillets (a total of 14.5 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rubbed I with olive oil a little Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, placed inside an oval tin-lined copper au gratin pan, sprinkled liberally with a very pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a bit of dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, covered with some thinly-sliced red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, one very ripe thinly-sliced red heirloom tomato, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, some chopped fresh oregano from, again, Norwich Meadows Farm, 8 pitted and halved Kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, and more than half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods, again, sliced thinly, the fish baked at 425º for 15 minutes, served sprinkled with buds of fresh oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, and fresh dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm
• a couple handfuls of okra from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed over a high flame in a very large cast iron pan with a little olive oil and a good part of one dark dried habanada pepper, seasoned with sea salt
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Alexander Goehr: Marching to Carcassonne / When Adam Fell / Pastorals’, with Peter Serkin, the BBC Symphony, the London Sinfonietta, and the conductor Oliver Knussen

The little tumbleweeds on the top of the eggs are dill flowers, still attached to the top of their stems.

Although it was a very late breakfast, it had to be a substantial one, since we would only be eating one other meal yesterday.  It was our 25th anniversary, and we had reserved an 8:30 table at Faro, our favorite restaurant.

In addition to the dill, there was also bacon, and eggs, and toast, plus spring shallot, Maldon salt, Tellicherry pepper, harissa, basil, and nasturtium.

As for the Calabrian peppers barely visible at the top of the picture, to be honest, neither of us touched them during the meal; I think I had put them there only for the color.

• The sources for the breakfast were bacon and eggs from Millport Dairy; lightly-toasted slices of a multigrain baguette from the 23rd Street Saturday greenmarket stall of She Wolf Bakery (unbleached wheat flour, whole wheat dark rye, white starter, honey, sugar, and a grain mix of millet, sunflower, coarse rye, oats, flax seed, and sesame; a portion of one spring shallot from Alewife Farm, gently warmed in olive oil; torn basil, also from Alewife Farm; a dab of sun-dried chilli-pepper harissa from NYShuk Pantry; and dill flowers from Eckerton Hill Farm
• the music was the album, ‘Mouton: 1515 – Sacred Works‘, music of the French renaissance composer Jean Mouton