Gosh, this pasta is so good. Then every other Sfoglini product is as well. It’s just that, well, hemp is pretty special, even without the absurd extra-culinary associations someone who grew up in the American no-no land is never going to shake.

• eight ounces out of a box of Sfoglini hemp reginetti, boiled until just before it would have reached the point when it was al dente (about 10 minutes), drained and served with a mushroom sauce composed of roughly 6 ounces of chopped oyster mushrooms from Gail’s Farm in Vineland, New Jersey, cooked until almost soft in a large tin-lined heavy copper pan with a couple tablespoons of rich ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘, 2 smallish chopped ‘yellow shallots’ from Norwich Meadows Farm and 2 medium-size cloves of chopped garlic from garlic, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, and 2 teaspoons of chopped thyme from from Trader Joe’s Market on 6th Avenue added to the mushrooms and cooked until fragrant and soft, at which time another 2 tablespoons of butter was added, and, once melted, a tablespoon of coarse stone-ground flour (Oak Grove Mills Whole Wheat Flour from the Blew Family of Oak Grove Plantation, from their stand in the Union Square Greenmarket) introduced and stirred to make something of a paste, before a third of a cup of Noilly Prat Extra Dry Vermouth (I didn’t have an opened bottle of white wine handy) slowly poured into the pan while being slowly stirred with a wooden spoon, cooked until the mix thickens, some chopped parsley from Phillips Farms stirred in, before adding a couple tablespoons remaining from the very rich, complex juices of a chicken entrée prepared the week before, the whole mix seasoned with salt and pepper before the cooked pasta was turned into the pan and mixed with the sauce, the completed dish served in 2 bowls, with some grated  ‘Parmigiano Reggiano Bonat 3’ from Buon Italia sprinkled over the top, a bit of micro red mustard scattered around the edges
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) red, Castello di Gabbiano, Chianti Classico, 2015, from Philippe Wines
• the music was François Couperin’s four ‘Concerts Royaux, “..ensemble pieces for a mixed consort of instruments…”, composed in 1714 and 1715 for, obviously, the king (Louis XIV in his very last years), and published in 1722, here performed by Christophe Rousset leading Les Talens Lyriques

A fish bake.

Although there were some obvious differences and some less than obvious even to me, after I spotted the little fillets in the fisherman’s family’s stand, I almost immediately thought of this meal as a modest salute to the Great Lakes of what are generally describe as one’s ‘formative’ years.

I brought home exactly one dozen of these fresh beauties on Monday, but no more, although they were not expensive, since I was already worried about fitting them into a single non-reactive pan.

Because of the difficulty – or at least the anxiety anticipated with the idea – of turning over that many thin fillets more or less at the same time, I decided I would bread then bake them, obviating the flipping challenge. This is when I really started sliding, mentally back into the Midwest, since this is not how I usually cook fish of any kind.

Half an hour before I expected to begin their cooking I removed the perch from the refrigerator and placed them on a plate on the counter.

Then the process began in earnest, my excitement now including that of seeing them lying inside the perfect pan, a French antique I had recently bought and had re-tinned, exactly for times like this.

• twelve small coastal white perch fillets (a total of 15 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, submerged first in a mixture of 2 tablespoons of melted butter and 2 teaspoons of juice from a Chelsea While Foods Market organic lemon, then rolled in a mixture of roughly half a cup of homemade    breadcrumbs, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper and a large pinch of crushed dried habanada pepper [a paprika or another dried chili, or even crushed mustard seed would also work], arranged inside a very heavy antique low-sided,13″ tin-lined copper pan and set in an oven preheated to 500º, baked for roughly for a very few minutes, because of their size, or until the breading was crispy and golden brown, removed and allowed to cool for a couple minutes before serving, garnished with micro red mustard from two Guys from Woodbridge [the recipe was adapted from Livestrong.com]

• just under a pound of small sweet Natasha potatoes from Phillips Farms, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with some home grown basil from Barry’s Artsy colleague Becca

• some super sweet flat kale from Lani’s Farm, wilted inside a large antique copper pot in which one halved garlic clove from Norwich Meadows had first been allowed to sweat in a little olive oil until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Sancerre, Sommet Doré 2017, from Astor Wines
• the music was Lully’s 1683 tragédie en musique, ‘Phaéton’, Christophe Rousset conducting Les Talens Lyriques and the Chœur de Chambre de Namur

Lemon pasta, what a concept.

But then so is something called, ‘porchetta’, which preceded the pasta.

• four ounces of Principe Italian uncured roasted porchetta rolled in pancetta from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, drizzled with a little olive oil
• baby arugula from Alewife Farm, drizzled with a little olive oil
• slices of Pain d’Avignon seven grain bread (whole wheat, honey, sesame/sunflower/flax seeds, oats) from Foragers Market

I had prepared this delightful filled pasta at least twice before, but it’s always a little different.

• twelve ounces of fresh ravioli rounds from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store (filled with ricotta, lemon zest, marjoram, nutmeg, and mascarpone), boiled carefully until barely cooked through in a large amount of well-salted water, drained, some of the pasta water retained, then slipped into a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had been melted, stirred over medium-high heat along with some of the reserved pasta water until the liquid had emulsified, then almost a tablespoon of lightly crushed pink peppercorns (Fr. baie rose, It. bacca rosa), which are actually not pepper, from Dean & DeLuca [where I had discovered it in their beautiful little tins in their Prince Street shop way back in the early 80’s] added, the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls where it was topped with the zest, or la scorza, from half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and garnished with micro red mustard (micro mostarda rossa) from Two Guys from Woodbridge

 

• the wine for both courses was a California (clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
• throughout the meal we enjoyed was the gorgeous music, and epic cultural, geographic, and historical tour of the 14th-century Muslim world and some of the lands beyond, from the album, ‘Ibn Battuta: Le Voyageur d l’Islam (The Traveler of Islam), 1304-1377’, produced by Jordi Saval and Hespèrion XXI

The most significant thing about this breakfast is that I managed to get 6 eggs to the table with every yolk intact. This is not always the case on Sunday mornings. Yay me.

• joining the eggs, which were from the pastured hens at Millport Dairy Farm and here dusted with freshly ground black pepper, sea salt, a pinch of crushed dried red Espelette pepper (a French basque variety that has largely replaced black pepper there over the last 4 or 5 centuries) from Alewife Farm, and some dried Sicilian fennel pollen from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, was 4 thick slices of bacon from pastured pigs, also at Millport Dairy Farm; 3 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods Market that were warmed in a little bit of some very good Trader unfiltered Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil and scattered with one small chopped Norwich Meadows Farm scallion and a little home grown basil from Barry’s Artsy colleague Becca; local (regional) Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, also from Whole Foods Market, on a small plate to the side, for the toast; micro red mustard; lightly toasted slices from a loaf of Gran Daisy Pugliese bread from Foragers Market
• the music was Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s 1670  ‘Leçons du Vendredy Sainct’ (Passages for Ash Wednesday), René Jacobs conducting Concerto Vocale

The best steak.

The plate suggested the New York steak house classic: Steak and potatoes, with something green on the side. There were even chives, but they weren’t to be found on the baked potato, and the vegetable proved that everything green is not spinach. Actually, I think everything was very different.

We don’t eat out much, and I think neither of us has been to a real steak house more than once in our lives.

In fact, we don’t eat beef of any kind very often, but when we do it’s normally a steak, and the steaks I’ve chosen more and more are of a single perfect cut, the sirloin cap steak (aka ‘rump cover’, ‘rump cap’, or ‘culotte’ in the United States, and ‘coulotte’ in France, ‘picanha’ in Brazil). There are reasons for this, and we’re reminded of them every time we’re able to enjoy the texture and the flavor of this great cut.

I’m noting right now, for my own records at least, that for once no fancy micro greens showed up for dinner. Maybe it was an unconscious obeisance to the sturdy fare served in the classic steak houses that still remain in this city.

• one perfect, frozen 23-ounce picanha/culotte steak from Sun Fed Beef in the Union Square Greenmarket, defrosted, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, seared for less than a minute on the top, thick, fat-covered side inside a dry oval heavy enameled cast iron pan, then the 2 long sides cooked for 3 or 4 minutes each and the ends briefly seared, removed from the pan at the moment it had become perfectly medium-rare (checking with an instant-read thermometer), carefully cut crosswise into 2 pieces of the same weight, arranged on warm plates, a bit of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed on top, followed by a drizzle of a little of Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra unfiltered virgin olive oil, scattered with scissored fresh chives from Phillips Farms, the steaks allowed to rest for about 4 minutes before being served

• just under a pound of La Ratte potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with olive oil, a small amount of crushed dried habanada pepper, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted inside a large seasoned Pampered Chef ceramic oven pan, cut side down, inside a 400º oven for about 20 minutes

• one not-so-large bunch of high tunnel-raised cavolo nero (aka lacinato, Tuscan kale, or black kale, among other names) from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted briefly inside a heavy antique medium size tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil after several halved cloves of garlic, also from Norwich Meadows, had first been heated there until fragrant and softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and drizzled with a little more oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Catalonia/Priorat) red, Sao del Coster Priorat 2015, from Crush Wine & Spirits

• the music was Bernhard Gander’s album, ‘Bunny Games’, the music performed by Klangforum Wien, here meaning Hsin-Huei Huang, Krassimir Sterev, Emilio Pomárico, Johannes Kalitzke, and Sylvain Cambreling

 

[image of Gander’s album cover from KAIROS]