There’s butter everywhere. I think we’re in northern France.

We haven’t been there for a while, even in the kitchen, and in fact, the last time (and first) time I worked with this recipe it resulted in something quite different; maybe there was less butter. Also, the clams were bigger, way bigger.

I think I could work this recipe using olive oil next time. The green beans as well.

• four very fresh skate wings from Pura Vida Seafood, weighing just 13 ounces altogether, coated all over with 2 tablespoons of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper-seasoned local Union Square Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills Mills, the fish sautéed in 2 tablespoons of butter inside a large enameled cast iron rectangular pan for 3 minutes or so on each side, then removed to 2 plates, kept warm in a very ‘slow oven’, and a little more than a tablespoon of additional butter added to the pan, allowed to melt, and 8 littleneck clams, also from Pura Vida, tossed in, the vessel covered loosely with tin foil, the littlenecks cooked until they had opened, at which time one fresh medium habanada pepper and one small shallot from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, both sliced thinly, were added and stirred around until softened a bit, the heat then turned off with the clams still there, and the pan allowed to cool just a bit before 3 more tablespoons of butter were introduced and again pushed around with a wooden spatula until melted, the zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon and all of its juices, plus half a dozen thin sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm stirred around and the seasoning checked, the skate plates removed from the warming oven and the clams arranged on and around the fish, the plates garnished with red micro amaranth from Windfall Farms

• haricots verts from Berried treasures Farm, washed, trimmed but otherwise left whole,  blanched only until softened in a large amount of salted water inside a heavy stainless steel pot that had once been a part of Peter Hoffman’s Prince and Crosby Street farm-to-table restaurant Savoy, dried in the same pan over low to medium heat, shaking, then set aside in a bowl until the fish was ready to be cooked, at which time they were reheated in a tablespoon of butter inside a heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and mixed with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd St market
• the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde/Lima) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was an Opera Rara performance of Donizetti’s 1840 Paris opera, ‘Les Martyrs’, Mark Elder Conducting the Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment

There’s a reason the antipasto insalata caprese [Eng. Caprese salad, or the salad of Capri] has become legendary. It’s extraordinarily delicious when the ingredients are the best. Also, mozzarella comes from the Campania region, as do, arguably, the best tomatoes in the world, and Capri has been a jewel off the coast of Campania for thousands of years.

Last night for the first time I thought about the origin of this arrangement of such simple ingredients, and I posited that some hotel chef had probably come up with it in the 1920s or 30s.  It seems I was right. An excerpt from one account of the history of the dish, with its reference to the Italian art movement of the century, made it all more interesting than I had expected (even the Farouk anecdote which shows up on that site and elsewhere pales in comparison):

“..the first historical mention is from the early 1920s when it appeared in the menu at the Hotel Quisisana where Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, founder of Futurism, in the summer of 1924 raged against pasta calling it ‘outdated’.”

“outdated”. Great.

• an insalata caprese, here a spread of alternating layers of a house-made mozzarella classica from Eataly, slice heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and whole leaves of Genoa basil from Windfall Farm, sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground black pepper, drizzled with a great Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.)
• slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche

I had spotted the black pansotti in the display case the day before. It was beautiful. I knew I wanted to have it, to serve it, but I was already had fish for dinner that night in my bag, so I went back the next day.

• squid ink pansotti, with a filling of mascarpone, scallion, and lump crab meat, from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store, cooked very briefly, served with a sauce made by gently heating 2 Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic cloves in a little olive oil inside a heavy antique, high-sided coper pot until they had softened and become fragrant, adding a fresh medium size habanada pepper, sliced, near the end, stirring it with the pansotti for no more than a minute, then introducing the drained pasta and some of the reserved pasta water, cooking over a medium-high flame until the liquid had emulsified, a teaspoon or so of pink peppercorns tossed in and stirred, the mix arranged in shallow bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges, garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania/Ischia) white, Casa d’Ambra Ischia Bianco 2017, from Garnet Wines
• the music throughout the meal was mostly the album, ‘Martinů: Cello Sonatas Nos. 1-3’

This little restaurant doesn’t seem to have a theme, unless it’s described by the source for 97% of the ingredients used in the preparation of the meals it serves, that is, local farmers, fishers, and bakers. How else to explain pasta with peppers and tomato one night, sausage, kraut and boiled potatoes the next, and a fish fillet with Mediterranean and Jamaican vegetables the day after that?

There’s also the whim factor.

And the occasional very welcome input from the suppliers: On Wednesday the fisherman himself told me, “If you’re ever going to have blue, this is the time”, explaining that the ones he was showing had been caught the day before, probably by himself. We did have blue that night. It tasted as fresh as the report suggested, and it was absolutely wonderful.

Here is our fillet resting on the kitchen counter:

And here inside the au gratin pan, just before being put into the oven:

• one 15-ounce bluefish from Warren at American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, cut into 2 sections, 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 part of a serrano red pepper segment from Central Valley Farm, chopped, covered/layered with thin slices of one small red onion rom Norwich Meadows Farm, thin slices of one large ripe ripe orange heirloom tomato and 2 small green heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and more than a tablespoon of chopped fresh oregano buds from Norwich Meadows Farm; plus 8 or 9 pitted Gaeta olives from Eataly and several thin slices of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, the pan then placed inside a 425º oven and baked for about 15 minutes

• Jamaican burr cucumbers [Cucumis anguria] (while all cucumbers are originally from South Asia , these are indigenous to Africa, but have now become naturalized in the New World) from Norwich Meadows Farm, quartered, sautéed in olive oil until lightly browned, tossing in and stirring one thinly-sliced fresh habanada pepper, from Oak Grove Plantation, near the end, seasoned with sea salt, tossed with torn mojito mint/Cuban mint [L. mentha x villosa] from Willow Wisp Farm

• the wine was a Spanish (Castilla y León/Bierzo) white, Abad Dom Bueno Godello 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Marin Marais’ 1709 opera, ‘Sémélé’, performed by   Le Concert Spirituel

It was a Germanic meal, and a pretty darn good one.

• four ounces of Norwegian canned cod liver, King Oscar Lofot Torskelever (from the Schaller & Weber store, served with little more than pinches of a few condiments (freshly-ground black pepper, Sicilian wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, chopped celery leaves from , sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and a bit of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon)
• toasted slices of Orwashers Moroccan olive bread (rustic wheat, white flours; black, green, Kalamata; Moroccan spices)

The entrée was very German, with a few small tweaks, and while the local German sausage, with the New Mexican hot pepper was really, really good, I thought both of the vegetables were pretty astounding. It’s all about our terrific local farmers, and GrowNYC, for getting them to us.

I love cabbage of any kind, and Sauerkraut in any form, but I chose the less familiar (and Rhenish?) ‘Weinkraut’ for this meal, because we were going to be drinking a good riesling.

• the Wurst was German, with spice, so it was modern German: four smoked spicy Hatch Chile sausages, also from Schaller & Weber, pan seared until they looked a little blistery, served with a classic German mustard, Löwensenf Medium and a dollop (occasionally refreshed) of the contents of a tube of ‘Meretina‘ horseradish spread, again, soured from Schaller & Weber
• in Germany the potato dish is described as Saltzkartoffeln (salt potatoes): it starts with some incredibly sweet, buttery small fingerling new potatoes from a farm whose name, unfortunately, I had somehow forgotten to record when I bought them in the Union Square Greenmarket weeks ago, scrubbed, boiled whole and unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, barely a tablespoons of Organic Valley European-Style Cultured Butter added, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs that had first been browned in a little butter with a pinch of salt, garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street market
• the Sauerkraut was actually Weinkraut (wine cabbage), and not ‘sour’ at all: one chopped sweet medium Walla Walla onion from Alewife Farm, and one cored, peeled, chopped Idared apple from Samascott Orchards, sautéed in a tablespoon and a half of duck fat inside inside an enameled cast iron oval pot until softened, followed by one 16-ounce glass jar of sauerkraut (simply cabbage and salt) from Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket that had been drained and very well-rinsed in several changes of cold water, then drained once again, squeezed, and the strands separated, the cabbage braised with the vegetables, stirring for a couple minutes, then 9 smashed whole juniper berries, about the same number of bruised whole black peppercorns, one whole fresh bay leaf from West Side Market, a little salt, and a tablespoon of olive oil added and mixed in, and one cup of a Spanish Rueda, Nisia Verdejo Old Vines 2016 (we didn’t have any spare German wines) the liquid brought to a boil and simmered over a low flame, stirring occasionally, for less than half an hour, covered, then uncovered for about 20 minutes more
• the wine was, well, it’s complicated historically: an Austrian (Weinviertel) white, Riesling “Falkenstein” Dürnberg 2015, from Astor Wines
• the music wasn’t German or Germanic at all, although I suppose it could be described as part of a shared Frankish culture and history: Charpentier’s 1686 opera, ‘La descente d’Orphée aux enfers’

It turned out to be a very red dinner, and the red extended well beyond our plates, because we had decided to listen to a 1987 John Adams opera in which a red China, a red army, a red detachment of women, a little red book, and also a few red faces, are prominently featured, however much the color red itself has to be left to the imagination in a recording limited to sound alone.

Both the dandelion and the salume in the antipasto were red.

• a few slices of uncured chorizo from Colameco’s ‘Spanish Brand Deli Selection’ at Whole Foods Market
• washed and dried leaves of red dandelion from Norwich Meadows Farm, drizzled with a good Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.), sprinkled with Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, a very small amount of balsamic vinegar poured over the top
• a few kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market
• slices of a Paris baguette from Orwashers Bakery in the 23rd Street greenmarket the day before

All of the major ingredients in the pasta sauce were so very red that I felt I had to garnish the dish with a fresh green herb once it had been placed in the bowls.

• two tablespoons of olive oil (adding more later, as necessary), heated inside a large antique high-sided copper pot before introducing one sliced medium walla walla onion from Alewife Farm and 4 chopped cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic, stirring over medium heat until the alliums had begun to turn golden and soften, a bit of peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia added near the end, followed by one cup of piquillo peppers from  Campo Rosso Farm, thickly-sliced lengthwise and seeds and pith removed, then one cup of ripe red heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, roughly chopped, and one tablespoon of fresh oregano buds from Norwich Meadows Farm, the mix stirred and cooked for about 5 minutes before adding 8 ounces of an Afeltra linguine from Eataly that had been cooked inside a large pot of salted water until barely al dente, then drained, reserving a cup of the cooking water, the pot stirred, along with more than half of the pasta water, until the liquid had emulsified, the pasta arranged inside shallow bowls and garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street Saturday greenmarket

• the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Fontezoppa Verdicchio di Matelica 2016, from Garnet Wines

There was a red desert as well, but I forgot to photograph it, so here are the strawberries ‘before’.

• thin slices of a terrific ‘Sour Cream Coffee Cake’ from Bread Alone, in the Union Square Greenmarket, with small ripe strawberries from Berried Treasures Farm, located in the ‘Black Dirt Region’ of New York State (her berries are described as a breed that’s a mix of domestic and wild stock) tossed on top, a portion of the berries macerated in a little turbinado sugar, topped with a small scoop of Talenti Vanilla Bean Gelato from Whole Foods Market

• the music throughout the meal, and long after, was the whole of John Adams’ ‘Nixon in China’, in a concert performance by Marin Alsop leading the Colorado Symphony Orchestra and a stellar cast; I think everything about the piece is magnificent, not least Alice Goodman‘s brilliant libretto, which is available here in its entirety 

This time at Sunday breakfast the bread was something of a star. As much as I like bread of any kind, with so much else going on on these hearty midday plates (serving as both breakfast and lunch), the bread is usually in a supporting role at best.

The loaf of Orwashers ‘Moroccan olive bread’ (rustic wheat, white flours; black, green, and Kalamata olives, and ‘Moroccan spices”) may be a new product for the bakery. Because of the olives, thinking that they might limit its general usefulness, I might not have made it my first choice at the 23rd Street greenmarket that morning, but there had been something of a run on the rest of their stock that day.

In the end, it was so good that when we sliced into it the next day, we decided not to toast it.

• besides the bread, there were 3 rashers of thick bacon and 6 fresh eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; a little sliced young red onion from Berried Treasures Farm and a bit of fresh habanada pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, both softened inside the pan before the eggs were broken into it; Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk, and fresh oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, all 4 scattered on top of the eggs; 3 differently-colored small heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm topped with fresh summer savory from Stokes Farm; and a garnish of a bit of red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the music was the album, ‘Messiaen: Les corps glorieux & Other Works for Organ’, with Kevin Bowyer playing the organ of the Glasgow University Chapel

The swordfish, I understand, is a terrific game fish, but my personal experience with its greatness has been limited to the kitchen and dining table.

Although I’ve heard some reports that it may not be for everyone, I think xiphias gladius is one of the best tasting fish anywhere, and we’re very lucky that this migratory giant regularly visits our own waters. It’s also one of the easiest seafood to prepare. Aside from a modest responsibility of ensuring that there be at least one sympathetic herb on hand, and one or more responsible seasonings, it’s mostly about knowing when to stop cooking, rather than how.

• one 16-ounce swordfish steak from American Seafood Company picked up that afternoon at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, halved, marinated on an ironstone platter for more than half an hour, turning once, in a mixture of olive oil, a tablespoon of fresh oregano (mostly buds) from Norwich Meadows Farm, a small amount of crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, a bit of fresh habanada pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, and a chopped section of a stem of Japanese scallion from Berried Treasures Farm, drained well and the steaks covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until just barely fully cooked all of the way through (think of the texture of a fresh good cheesecake), removed from the pan and arranged on the plates, sprinkled with a little Maldon sea salt, a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed on top, and garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• three quarters of a pound of some amazing sweet, fresh ‘White potatoes’ from Jersey Farm Produce Inc., 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 sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, tossed with torn fresh sage from Echo Creek Farm, also in the 23rd Street market
• five different kinds and colors of baby eggplant, collected over several visits to Norwich Meadows Farm in the Unions Square Greenmarket (hence no photograph), each cut into 4 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, 6 or so Kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, pitted, finely-chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled over a brisk flame, turning once, sprinkled with torn spearmint leaves from Keith’s Farm, arranged on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Liotro Inzolia 2016 (100% Inzolia grapes), from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘C.P.E. Bach: Concertos & Symphonies’

It’s a super fish, its flavor and texture poised between the most interesting of the rich oily seafood and the most delicate of white-fleshed varieties. I love it.

• four fillets (a total of one pound) of skinned local dolphinfish from Pura Vida Seafood (aka orata, or dorade, or, in the US, commonly attached to the Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’, which I really try to resist), dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped summer savory from Lani’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy oval vintage copper fish pan for about 2 minutes, skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for another 2 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with aluminum foil for a minute or two, which was then removed, and some thin-ish slices of Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper were introduced and very briefly sautéed along with the fish, which was then removed from the pan, along with the allium and the habanada, and arranged on the plates, the now richly-savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish, and some bronze micro fennel scattered on its side

• a large Strauss of minutina from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, drained, then barely wilted (it was cooked perfectly this time, and that’s actually very hard to do with this delicate thin green), in a bit of olive oil inside a large antique high-sided copper pot above a low-to-medium flame, seasoned with salt and pepper, finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon

• a small basket of white currant tomatoes from Alewife Farm, warmed inside a small vintage Corning  Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm (buds)
• the wine was a Portuguese (Biera) white, Quinta do Cardo White “Companhia das Quintas” 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Kalevi Aho: Wind Quintets Nos. 1 & 2’, performed by the Philharmonisches Bläserquintett Berlin