It looks like an entire summer garden made it onto that plate. It also looks every bit as baroque as the music we were listening to while enjoying it.

Last night I was looking for a way to cook bluefish in a way other than that I have for a while, but my time was running out, and I did have all of the ingredients I would need to prepare it ‘Greek Style’, and that’s the route I took once again.

Aside from the excellence of the basic recipe (little more than a few words that I found in a 2008 Chowhound discussion I uncovered a little over a year ago), I think Friday’s very easy decision is also redeemed by the fact that the individual ingredients will vary every time I pull them up, so it’s never the same meal.

This time, one of those variations was in the size of the fillets that I found in the market, and to which my fishmonger Paul Mendelsohn had pointed me: They were much smaller than any I had worked with before, so the fish tasted both fresher, or lighter, and sweeter than usual, and there was a less of the ‘blue’ flavor, what some people will describe as ‘fishy’, but which I happen to enjoy.

There were also lots of vegetables.

• four small (4 1/2-ounce each) bluefish fillets from Pura Vida Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, rubbed with olive oil and a little Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside a vintage oval tin-lined copper au gratin pan, sprinkled liberally with a very pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and a finely-chopped piece of an ahi rico pepper (medium spiciness) from Alewife Farm, covered/layered with thin slices of one small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, thin slices of three different heirloom tomato varietals, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, and more than a tablespoon of chopped fresh oregano buds, from Norwich Meadows Farm as well, plus 9 pitted Gaeta olives from Eataly and several thin slices of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, the pan placed inside a 425º oven and baked for about 8 to 10 minutes, the fillets arranged on the plates and garnished with micro red basil from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• almost a pound of medium size Norland potatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, halved, mixed in a bowl with cut sections of what appeared to be 2 small-ish (4 ounces each) examples of second-growth fennel bulbs, if that’s a thing, from Neversink Farm, olive oil (not too much), sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, the potatoes and the sturdiest pieces of fennel arranged inside a favorite large shallow-sided unglazed extremely well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan and cooked in the same 425º oven for about half an hour, with the remaining pieces of fennel tossed into the pan at various times in the cooking process, depending upon their thickness, the vegetables then arranged together on the plates and garnished with flowering dill from Rise & Root Farm
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporao Alandra Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Le Parnasse Français’, with the music of Jean-Féry Rebel, Jean-Marie Leclair, François Couperin, Michel Blavet, performed by Musica Antiqua Cologne, conducted by Reinhard Goebel

It’s not that each is so photogenic, but that there are always multiples.

 

They’e also simply, literally, delicious.

Here the cleaned blowfish are still in the fishmonger’s tub:

Now home, on the counter, after breading:

And just after being placed in the pan of hot olive oil:

I never deep fry anything, although this recipe comes pretty close, at least for me. Even though the idea is to prepare the pan with only an eighth to a quarter inch of oil, I always regret using even that much oil to prepare any entrée.

But I have to say it works.

• twenty small blowfish tails, or a total of 18 ounces (which was less than half the size of those I cooked the last time) from Pura Vida Seafood Company, dredged in a little less than a third of a cup of a local Union Square Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from The Blew family of Oak Grove Plantation in Pittstown, N.J. that had been seasoned with plenty of sea salt, fresh-ground black pepper, and about half a teaspoon of freshly-ground whole yellow mustard seed (which is very difficult to find; my jar of McCormick brand came from the 7th Avenue Westside Market), pan-fried in olive oil about an eighth to a quarter of an inch deep inside a 13 1/2″ heavy cast iron pan, turning them over once (cooking less than 2 minutes on each side), by which time they had turned golden), served with quarters of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market
• a few small Jamaican burr cucumbers from from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced into thick disks, sautéed in olive oil until lightly browned, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, the heat turned off, the cucumbers mixed with a some chopped bronze fennel from Quarton Farm, and a large handful of tiny ‘wild’ tomatoes (‘Matt’s Wild Cherry’?) from Stokes Farm tossed in, both cucumbers and tomatoes arranged on the plates enclosed by the ring of blowfish, garnished with more bronze fennel
• a little bit of wonderful red watercress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery
• the wine was a California (all over California) white, David Marchesi Provare California Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Musica Nova: Harmonie des Nations, 1500-1700’, with Jordi Savall directing his ensemble Hespèrion XXI

It was a quickie.

• Neapolitan Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano I.G.P. linguina cooked al dente, added to a large antique high-sided copper pot in which one bruised and halved Sicilian variety (rocambole) garlic clove from Keith’s Farm had been stirred in a little olive oil until almost softened, joined near the end of that time by 2 peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, a good portion of a cup of  reserved pasta water added to the oil, garlic, chilis, and the linguine, everything stirred over a medium-high flame until the liquid had emulsified, after which some chopped bronze fennel from Quarton Farm was mixed in, the pasta and sauce arranged inside shallow bowls, drizzled around the edges with a little more olive oil, and garnished with more of the fennel
• the wine was an Italian (Campania/Sannio), white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2016
• the music was ‘Desire Loop’ by Lori Scacco, whom we had met earlier in the evening at an event celebrating 2 Jennifer and Kevin McCoy art videos, in which she was responsible for the music design

(there weren’t enough hats to go around)

I spotted the lobster-red blur under the ice at her seafood stall, but Jan told me the two small cooked claws were all they had left that day of their catch of homanus americanus. That’s all I needed to hear: I could take home the lobster and a smaller than usual portion of some other seafood, and either combine them in a single course or serve them separately, the lobster worked into an appetizer.

I decided on the appetizer, after I found this recipe on line: a ‘lobster salad’ although the proportions of the ingredients called for were for something with 10 times more lobster than I was able to take home that day.

• four small Jamaican burr cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, unpeeled, sliced about 1/4″ thick, each used as a disk to support a dollop of a mix of chopped lobster from the fish monger’s only traps off eastern Long Island (after cracking the shells, I ended up with only 1 5/8 ounces meat, which equated to about $16 per pound); a couple tablespoons of a really good locally-prepared mayonnaise, Sir Kensington’s, plain, Classic Mayonnaise (made by ex-Brown students, with headquarters in SoHo); a bit of both a sweet habanada pepper and and a mildly-spicy aji rico pepper, both finely chopped; sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper; and a pinch or two of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company(purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market) [I think I should have included some lemon zest, but the mix was really good exactly as I had improvised it this time]

The main course was a house classic, except for the addition of tomatoes this time to the familiar baked dish of potatoes and cod. I think I added the tomatoes mostly because of the relatively small amounts of both fish and potato that I had available this time, but it worked really well, and the display was pretty spectacular.

They look, disconcertingly, a bit like strawberries, which may have been appropriate, since the farm from which both the potatoes and the tomatoes came is ‘Berried Treasures’, named for  Franca Tantillo‘s specialties, strawberries and potatoes.

The dish was assembled in 2 stages.

• two 5-ounce cod fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square greenmarket, cooked using the basics of a recipe from Mark Bittman which I had come across many years ago: the cod washed and rinsed, placed in a platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the pieces were completely covered, then set aside while a bed of potatoes was prepared for them by slicing lengthwise into 3 or 4 sections each (to a thickness of roughly 1/4″) a total of 10 or 12 ounces or so of La Ratte fingerling potatoes (including 3 red thumb fingerlings from Willow Wisp Farm to make up for the small number of La Ratte), tossing them in a large bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a large section of a large orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper (bought fresh last fall from Norwich Meadows Farm), arranging the potatoes, overlapping, in a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan, and cooking them for 25 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced, but not fully cooked, and then, the cod having already been thoroughly immersed in many fresh changes of water to bring down the saltiness (the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while it’s being handled it at this point; it’s kinda sexy), draining and drying the fillets before placing them inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzling them with a little olive oil and sprinkling them with some freshly-ground black pepper, then blanketing them with thin slices of several heirloom tomatoes (each the same kind, mahogany and red in color) from Berried Treasures Farm, the tomatoes also seasoned, lightly, and the pan returned to the oven for about 8 or 9 minutes (the exact time depends on the thickness of the fillets), removing the fish with a spatula (or, much better, two spatulas), along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought with each piece, and arranging everything as intact if possible onto the plates, returning to the pan for the remainder of the potatoes, the servings garnished with chopped bronze fennel from Quarton Farm

• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Pinot Gris 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Bach, Shostakovich: Preludes & Fugues / Olli Mustonen’

This menu seemed a little premature for September, game and roasted squash being pretty much an autumn meal, but fortunately the weather cooperated (I wouldn’t want to cook or serve this dinner in warm weather), and the the sun actually haded cross the celestial equator and headed south exactly 24 hours earlier.

I want to add that despite its appearances, and while it may be hearty, no butter was harmed in the making of this meal.

• two whole unboned pasture-raised certified organic quail from Abra Morawiec’s Feisty Acres Farm in Jamesport, Long Island, weighing in at a little more than 8 ounces each, washed and dried both inside and out, each cavity stuffed with a quarter of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a half share of the following mix: 4 rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, peeled and bruised a little, the leaves of 2 fresh thyme sprigs, also from Keith’s Farm, the leaves torn from one branch of fresh rosemary from Willow Wisp Farm, and one and a half tablespoons of a house Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market; the quail was then rubbed with olive oil and sea salt, trussed with string (basically just seeing that the legs were held together and the wings kept pressed against the breasts), the birds set aside and allowed to come to room temperature (allowing at least 20 minutes from the refrigerator altogether), at which time they were quickly browned on all sides inside a small heavy enameled cast iron oval pan and, using celery stalks to keep the birds breast-upright while they roasted (alternatively, using sections of fennel stems, or whatever suitable vegetable might be available) inside a 425º oven for about 18 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), the birds removed from the pan when done and set aside on a warm plate to rest for about 10 minutes, loosely tented with foil, while the sauce was assembled, beginning with discarding the celery 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, then 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 (it will look a bit like a chocolate sauce), the quail served on the plates with the sauce drizzled over the birds

• one 5-inch black futsu squash (I can’t praise these bumpy, heavily ribbed Japanese members of the moschata family highly enough) from Alewife Farm, scrubbed, halved, the seeds removed, cut into one-inch wedges, brushed lightly with olive oil and rubbed with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and one large section of a golden dried habanada pepper, (I actually tossed it all inside a bowl this time, to make it quicker and easier) arranged on a large, unglazed, well-seasoned ceramic pan and roasted in the 425º oven on one side for 15 minutes, turned onto the other side and allowed to roast for 15 more minutes, removed from the oven and transferred to a large copper sauté pan in which 2 cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic had been gently heated in a bit of olive oil along with some roughly-chopped sage from Echo Creek Farm

• one bunch of broccoli rabe, or rapini, from Willow Wisp Farm, washed and drained several times, trimmed, very roughly chopped, and, with much of the water still clinging to the greens, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in which one large halved Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic clove had been heated in a little olive oil until softened, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little more olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) red, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Pinot Gris 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Les Elements: Tempetes, Orages & Fetes Marines’ (The Elements: Tempests, Storms, & Celebrations of the Sea), with Jordi Savall conducting Le Concert des Nations 

It was breakfast without bacon and without tomatoes.

Also new this time: No broken yolks, and somehow the whites came off with something of a geometric perfection as well.

• the list of what there was: blue eggs from Millport Dairy Farm free-range Americauna chickens; husk cherries from Oak Grove Plantation that were there because I had forgotten to add them to the small second helpings of pasta served the night before; beautiful red watercress from Max Creek Hatchery; lightly-toasted slices of a rich, moist She Wolf Bakery polenta sourdough boule; micro red chard from Two Guys from Woodbridge; and, on the eggs, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, chopped fresh habanada pepper from Alewife Farm, fresh chopped dill from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on West 23rd Street, and dry fenugreek (I love fenugreek) from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company, also at the Saturday Farmers Market
• the music was Messiaen’s ‘Catalogue d’oiseaux’, performed by Jocy de Oliveira

Looks a bit like a corne copia, or in this case, a patera copia, but it was definitely, in the language closest to the vulgate that succeeded classical Latin, una deliziosa scodella di abbondanza.

It is very Italian, but it was conceived on 23rd Street.

• eight and a half ounces of al dente Afeltra 100% Grana Italiano Penna di Rigata [sic] from Naples, via Eataly Flatiron, with a sauce which began with a little olive oil heated inside a large antique high-sided thick-walled copper pot in which 2 cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic were slowly cooked until they were beginning to color and soften, accompanied during that time by one whole peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, after which 2 small fresh habanada peppers from Alewife farm were added and briefly heated before the pasta itself was introduced into the pot, along with some reserved pasta water, everything stirred until the liquid had emulsified, and then a half dozen small halved Pomodorino del Piennolo del Vesuvio (yeah, they grow all over Mount Vesuvius) from Norwich Meadows Farm were slipped into the pot and moved about, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper to taste, mixed with chopped lovage from Quarton Farm and a small amount of torn basil handed to me by Franca of Berried Treasures Farm, the pasta arranged in shallow bowls, topped with what Oak Grove Plantation’s Union Square Greenmarket stall labelled ‘Ground Husk Cherry Tomatoes’ (the fruits of this species of physalis, of the nightshade family, are also known as husk cherries, groundcherries, Cape gooseberries, just for starters), and drizzled with olive oil around the edges
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany/ Bolgheri) white, Antinori Vermentino 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘L’immagine di Corelli’, featuring Arcangelo Corelli’s six violin sonatas from his opus 5 (published January 1, 1700), performed by Susanne Scholz on violin, and Michael Hell on harpsichord

How many names can one fish support?

Cynoscion regalis: I want to call it Squetauge, because I like the sound, because it’s what they call it in Rhode Island, and because it’s what it was called by Americans long before there were any Europeans, Africans, or Asians to name anything.

Weakfish is the name by which it is generally known, I think, but it there are many other ways to designate this excellent eating fish.

My fish monger calls it ‘sea trout’, although it’s no relation to the true trout.

I go through this exercise about fish names a lot, with all sorts of species that we consume at home or elsewhere, but the reason I’m making something of it this time is that while I’ve cooked cynoscion regalis at least 5 times before, ‘sea trout’ didn’t show up on this blog site when I was standing at the fish stand trying to remember what I usually call that fish in the plexiglas window.

• 7 and a half-ounce fillets of Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’, Sea Trout, or Ocean Trout) from Pura Vida Seafood Company, marinated for more than half an hour, first in the refrigerator and then on the kitchen counter, in a mix of a fourth of a cup of olive oil, 2 minced cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic, and 7 different chopped or torn herbs (1 crushed fresh bay leaf from West Side Market, parsley and spearmint from Phillips Farms, rosemary from Willow Wisp Farm, lovage from Quarton Farm, and marjoram buds from Stokes Farm), drained, reserving some of the marinade, then sautéed, or fried, for about 2 minutes inside an antique lightly-oiled (one tablespoon), heavy tin-lined oval copper pan which had been pre-heated to medium-hot, skin-slide down first, then turned and cooked for another minute, arranged on the plates, brushed lightly with a bit of reserved marinade, garnished with micro red chard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• five really special very ripe Mountain Magic tomatoes, halved, heated inside a small vintage Pyrex blue glass pan in a little olive oil, turning once, seasoned with sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper,, arranged on the plate garnished with a bit of basil, the gift of Franca Tantillo of Berried Treasures Farm
• one bunch of collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, stemmed, washed 3 times, drained (some of the water retained and held aside to be added, as necessary, while the greens cooked), cut roughly and braised gently until softened/wilted inside a large, heavy enameled cast iron pot in which 2 cloves of Keiths Farm rocambole garlic had been heated until they had softened, seasoned with salt and black pepper, finished with a small drizzle of olive oil
• slices of a She Wolf Bakery polenta sourdough boule
• the wine was a California (Napa) red, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1726 opera seria, ‘Scipione’, in a performance by Les Talens Lyriques conducted by Christophe Rousset

Mostly back to the Mediterranean, after a short detour in German lands.

• one pound of rinsed and carefully dried squid bodies and tentacles from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, arranged without touching if possible, inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until quite hot and its cooking surface brushed with a thin coating of olive oil, once the oil itself was quite hot, the cephalopods immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, one small crushed dried pepperoncino calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, one large chopped fresh habanada pepper from from Alewife Farm, some sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by a drizzle of a few tablespoons of Whole Foods Market organic lemon, and some olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for 5 minutes, removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with a bit of the cooking juices that had been transferred to a glass sauce pitcher
• La Ratte potatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while inside the large, still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware glass pot in which they had cooked, a tablespoon or so of olive oil added, seasoned with Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, tossed with chopped dill from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market
• four small San Marzano tomatoes from Quarton Farm, each sliced in half and placed face down on a plate which had been spread with sea salt and pepper, the surface dried somewhat with a paper towel and placed in a hot grill pan and turned once, finished on the plates with a bit of olive oil, a few drops of balsamic vinegar, and the very last leaves, torn, of those that had remained on a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Terredora Falanghina 2017, from Garnet Wines
• the music was a genuine oddity, ‘Les Mystères d’Isis’, an 1801 adaptation, for the Paris opera, of Mozart’s ‘Die Zauberflöte’, by Ludwig Wenzel Lachnith, with a new French text by Étienne Morel de Chédeville

German-isch again.

Well, actually it was more than just, “-isch”. It was pretty German, but with Mexican and French touches in the wine and the music.

• four links of Schaller & Weber Bauernwurst (a smokey pork and beef sausage, with pepper, garlic and marjoram), heated inside an oval enameled cast iron pan until the skin had blistered, served with a classic German mustard, Löwensenf Medium (and, not in the picture, a luscious German pepper pickle, Hengstenberg 1876 Red Pepper Steak Sauce, both purchased at the same Schaller & Webber store, which has been located for almost 80 years in what was once the Manhattan German community of Yorkville 
• ten or 12 ounces of small sweet and delicious Pinto (or Pinto Gold) potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled with a good amount of salt in the water only until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while inside the large, still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware glass pot in which they had cooked, a tablespoon or so of butter added, seasoned with a bit of Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sprinkled with toasted home-made breadcrumbs and garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• one pale yellow Hungarian pepper from Stokes Farm, cut lengthwise into quarters, and 2 aji dulce peppers (not hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm, the seeds and membranes removed from both, sautéed over a high or medium high flame inside a large, heavy, antique high-sided copper pot until slightly caramelized, one medium fresh habanada pepper from Alewife Farm added near the end, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper and tossed with leaves of a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge, torn, and served with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Napa) red, Macario Montoya‘s Sin Fronteras El Mechon California Red Blend 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music too was, in a way, sin fronteras, since it celebrated an event that “..culminates in a grand procession of the Human Race, dancing and singing in praise of Liberty. [without frontiers]”; it was ‘Le Triomphe de la République ou Le Camp de Grand Pré’, by Francois-Joseph Gossec, performed by I Barocchisti, conducted by Diego Fasolis