The basic recipe for this simple fresh pasta sauce, from Mark Bittman, is one I had cut out of the ‘New York Times Magazine’ 5 years ago, in the first week of August, and while I have associated it with summer, it sure looks summery in the picture, and, yes, it tasted summery, all of the vegetables and herbs were purchased at the Union Square Greenmarket in this last week of October.

One of the most interesting aspects of this preparation, at least for me, is the fact that it calls for neither salt (other than that added to the water in which the pasta was boiled), nor black pepper. Does that betray the peasant origin of the dish, since contadini might have often have had to depend solely on the product of their own fields for ingredients?

I think these tomatoes are betraying their awareness the season is ending; the micro radish greens don’t seem to have a clue however, and they’re probably right if they’re thinking their kind will be around all winter, snug in their high tunnels.

• eight ounces of Setaro penne rigate, from Buon Italia, cooked al dente, then tossed in a large bowl in which 3 heirloom tomatoes, an orange and a red, from Eckerton Hill Farm and a green from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into rough chunks, had been mixed, just after the pasta water had been places on the range, with 3 tablespoons of a decent olive oil, 3 lightly-crushed ‘German Hardneck’ garlic cloves from Race Farm, one medium-hot green Pasilla pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, a heatless orange Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, and about half of a cup of torn basil from Stokes Farm, stirred and allowed to sit until the pasta itself was ready, served in shallow bowls, finished with a sprinkling of homemade bread crumbs that had been browned in a little olive oil, topped with purple micro radish from Windfall Farms
• the wine was an Italian (Piedmont) white, Ioppa Vino Bianco San Grato 2015
• the music was Per Nørgård’s Symphony No. 5, the Oslo Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by John Storgårds

Lately I’ve been a little truant about visits to the Union Square Greenmarket: I’ve made dinners, on almost successive nights, using fish and meat not even produced inside our national borders. Although not anathema, it’s something I normally try to avoid.  I do have some weak excuses however.

On Monday it was Spanish sardines, and last night, Wednesday, normally a fish day for us, it was Quebec pork chops. I had wandered over to the Greenmarket around the middle of the day to pick up something with fins for dinner, but when I got there I learned that the ocean fisher people had not been able to make it that day, and that as a consequence, the freshwater guy had sold out early.

Again, as on Monday, I thought of a pasta entrée, but, again, as on Monday, it was not to be. This time I was at Whole Foods Market, essentially to pick up milk, when I came across something new in the meat case, some very fine-looking organic, pork (“Raised in open barns with outdoor access“) from a Quebec producer I had heard of. Largely because I had vegetables more suitable to a fish or meat dinner, I decided once again that the pasta could wait.

• 2 organic pork loin chops (totaling 1.05 lbs) from the French Canadian producer, duBreton, via Whole Foods, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy enameled cast-iron pan, one small finely-chopped floral-scented orange Habanada pepper (heatless) from Norwich Meadows Farm sprinkled on the top surfaces before half of an organic lemon was squeezed over them, after which the lemon was left on the surface of the pan between the chops, the pan placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the pepper pieces repositioned on the surfaces, the lemon squeezed over the top once again and once again replaced in the pan, the finished dish removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, and some red micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge pushed around inside the pan before the luscious pan juices were spooned over the top of the chops
• two small red new potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm glass pot, quartered, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with chopped thyme from Keith’s Farm
• red Russian kale from Keith’s Farm, sautéed in olive oil in which one bruised and halved German Hardneck garlic clove from Race Farm had first been allowed to sweat and barely begin to brown, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a dash of more olive oil
• the wine was a California (Santa Ynez) white, Literally Sauvignon Blanc California 2013
• the music was the album, ‘Complete Mozart Edition Vol 36‘, which includes ‘Zaide’ and ‘Schauspieldirektor’

Yeah, gorgeous.

And everything was minimal before I started.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (the ingredients are crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), seared/heated in a cast iron pan, 2 to 3 minutes for each side, served on 2 plates on top of a salsa composed of roughly-chopped heirloom tomatoes from Stokes Farm, a little chopped red scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a bit of homemade French Basque piment d’Espellate purchased in a small town north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec last year from the producer’s daughter, one heatless orange Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, a very small amount of dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, chopped julip mint from Stokes Farm, topped with a scattering of purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge; the salsa was itself placed on a ‘nest’ of wild arugula from Paffenroth Farms, which had been seasoned with a little oil, salt, pepper, and drizzled with lemon juice
• one not-very-large radicchio from Campo Rosso Farm, quartered, placed in a small unglazed ceramic oven pan (Pampered Chef, long ago well-seasoned), drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper, roasted at 400º for about 12 minutes, turning once, finished with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and, scattered with shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia
• unfortunately this time we’ve lost track of the information on the wine and the music (I’m embarrassed)

On Monday morning I didn’t feel like springing from bed early enough to have a decent chance at the selections offered at P.E. & D.D, Seafood, so I skipped the market altogether (that doesn’t happen very often) and decided my fallback would be pasta that night.

Later in the day however, while visiting Chelsea Market to pick up some staples at Buon Italia, I naturally found myself peeking in, first at Dickson Farmstand Meats, to see what they had to offer, and then at The Lobster Place, where I found some beautiful Spanish sardines. They sardines weren’t local, but they were clearly very fresh, a fish which is something of a novelty for us, and definitely in seafood territory, which is where we almost always expect to be on Mondays.

The image below is of the sardines and trimmings just before they were put into the oven.

And of course there were sides.

• six Spanish sardines from The Lobster Place, cleaned in front of me while I waited at the counter, cleaned by the staff at The Lobster Place, seasoned, placed inside an oiled ceramic dish exactly the size for accommodating them in one layer, sprinkled with lemon zest, Gaeta and black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia, pitted, a handful of sun gold tomatoes from Ryder Farm which were first pricked then baked beforehand for 15 minutes, and one small finely-chopped floral-scented orange Habanada pepper (heatless) from Norwich Meadows Farm, all drizzled with more olive oil, baked for 10 minutes in a 400º oven, served with a slight drizzle of olive oil and lemon segments
• two red potatoes (white flesh) from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, boiled, drained, dried in the pan, rolled in olive oil, scattered with a bit of sliced red scallion, a bit of crushed dried rosmarino di sicilia of Azienda Agricola Gandolfo Filippine, from Buon Italia, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper, then sprinkled, once on the plates, with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• wild arugula from Paffenroth Farms, dressed with a good Campania olive oil (Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’), freshly-squeezed lemon, salt, and pepper
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Insolia 2014
• the music was Ferruccio Busoni’s ‘Doktor Faust’, performed by the Bavarian State Opera

As good as it looks, every time, although the cast changes, as does the hour of the performance.

The last time I put something like this together it was for the first meal of the day, a Sunday, in early spring. The first time it appeared on our table was three months earlier, just before the winter solstice, when it had been a dinner. This time it was in the middle of autumn, again a dinner.

The somewhat rough formula has worked beautifully each time, even if it’s now farther than ever from the original inspiration.

The image above represents one of two servings each of us enjoyed; it ended up as the entire meal: we were more than satisfied, continuing to the cheese course I had prepared to serve.

• the ingredients this time were, in order of their appearance inside a glazed ceramic oven dish: a little butter; 2 heirloom tomatoes from Stokes Farm; some wilted red Russian kale from Keith’s Farm; finely-chopped pieces of a Creminelli Campania Italian salami from Whole Foods; chopped Japanese red scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm; 8 eggs from Millport Dairy; sea salt; freshly-ground black pepper; one finely-chopped small orange (heatless) Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm; a finely-sliced section of a hot cherry pepper from Oak Grove Plantation  dabs from a small jar of an aromatic seasoning blend with the name, L’eKama, on top of the eggs once the portions were on plates; and purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, David Akiyoshi Reserve Chardonnay 2015
• the music was the complete Richard Strauss/Hugo von Hofmannsthal extremely entertaining masterpiece, ‘Ariadne Auf Naxos’, with Voigt, Heppner, Dessay, and Von Otter, Giuseppe Sinopoli directing the Dresden Staatskapelle, in his valedictory (we lingered)

 

I think I’m running the risk of being too obsessed with the aesthetics, neglecting the relative simplicity I have always wanted to dominate in these meals.

The fish was wonderful, but after it was served I had to admit to myself (and Barry) that there a little too much going on in the presentation. I sometimes find it hard to ignore adding colorful ingredients like those tomatoes and the purple micro radish when a better decision might be to put them aside for another meal.

I should probably have stopped with the cayenne and paprika dusting, but it’s really hard to shut a sun gold tomato outside of any meal.

• two 8 or 9-ounce fillets of Tautog (known in New York as ‘Blackfish’), Seatuck Fish Company, in the Union Square Greenmarket, more or less prepared using this recipe by Caroline Rossock, with the exception of heating inside the pan before the fish was added one finely-chopped small orange (heatless) Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, and substituting for the sage, a mixture of thyme, rosemary, and marjoram from Stokes Farm plus winter savory from Keith’s Farm, using, specifically, pitted Kalamata olives from Whole Foods, dusting the fillets with a 50/50 mix of an excellent cayenne pepper and a good dulce paprika instead of the Aleppo Pepper, now unobtainable, and finally, halfway through the cooking, throwing into the pan a handful of pricked sun gold tomatoes from Ryder Farm, and finishing the fillets on the plates with some micro purple radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge and a drizzle of olive oil

• flowerets from a ten-ounce white cauliflower from Norwich Meadows Farms, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and part of a cherry pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, finely-chopped, scattered on an unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at the same 425º used for the fish, finished with parsley from Keith’s Farm, chopped, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, ROX Scott Peterson Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2015 from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Music of Poul Ruders, Vol. 6‘, from Bridge Records

I’ve finally found a seasoning pepper I will actually be able to spend some money on.

Each year I’m amazed (well, overwhelmed) by the huge variety and numbers of hot peppers displayed by Greenmarket farmers, a bounty which begins in mid-summer and continues until the frost. While I bring them home regularly, it’s normally in very small amounts if I’m going to use them fresh.

That means we enjoy these particular capsicums for mere pennies, and that never seemed quite fair.

Recently I came across something very different, a small, very attractive, yellow-orange, very ‘floral’ pepper which has absolutely no fire. It’s delicious, and I expect that I will be using it in quantities – and in more dishes – than I could ever before have imagined.

It’s not expensive, but I will be buying them in unfamiliar quantities.

It’s called a Habanada pepper. I first came across it 2 weeks ago in Union Square, under the canvas of Norwich Meadows Farm. It’s a fairly new hybrid, “the first truly heatless habanero (hence the haba-nada)”, according to the Cornell Small Farms Program. It was developed by a good man some consider a wizard, Cornell professor Michael Mazourek, who reportedly had asked himself, “what if there was a pepper I could share with my friends who didn’t like hot peppers so they could taste what I love without the heat?”.

We’re so glad he wanted to know, and that he created the answer, although this does not mean that I’m going to cut down on full-heat peppers.

At her vegetable (and Chicken) stand last week, Haifa, half of the couple which founded and runs Norwich Meadows Farm, told me that she also dries these peppers, using them all through the winter after the fresh are no longer available.

After being so impressed with what they had done with this simple pasta, when I returned to the market on Saturday, I took home a large bag. The contents are now in a wooden basket on a north windowsill, but I’m thinking of sewing them on a string.

• two slivered ‘German Hardneck’ garlic cloves from Race Farm and one Habanada pepper, seeded, sliced thinly, and cut crosswise into small strips, heated inside an enameled cast iron pan in olive oil until both were pungent, a little sea salt and freshly-ground pepper added, before a 12-ounce package of cooked Rana spinaci e ricotta [spinach and ricotta] ravioli from Eataly, was introduced into the pan and carefully mixed, 2 sliced ripe heirloom tomatoes (different varieties, in 2 shades of red) from Norwich Meadows Farm added to the pan and gently stirred, the pasta finished in bowls scattered with portions of a small handful of pan-roasted pine nuts, a drizzle of olive oil, and chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm.

Later there was fruit.

• Concord grapes from Troncillito Farms

• the wine was an Italian (Friuli-Venezia) white, Scarpetta Frico Bianco delle Venezie 2014
• the music was a George Lewis album, ‘Hexis’, Lewis with The Monash Art Ensemble

I fiddled with this recipe a little each time I’ve brought it out. It was originally the late Kyle Phillips‘s terrific approach to cod, although it looks like I’ve only used it with hake until last night. I’ve finished it with with various toppings; this time I used fresh fennel flowers, and before that I played around a little more, adding a very special, incredibly delicious, not-really-hot-at-all new orange pepper variety to the pan before introducing the fish.

This one was better than ever, and for most of that I may be able to thank the heatless pepper.

The cod looked like this just before it was removed from the pan.

And these are some very special peppers. Haifa, of Norwich Meadows Farm, told me that she dries them to enjoy all year round; after my experience with this meal, I have to go back to get a stash to do the same.

• one 15-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, handed off to me at noon that day at their Union Square stand by the owner and fisherman, Phil Karlin himself, which I divided expertly into 2 equal portions before they were dredged in seasoned coarse stone-ground flour and dipped in a beaten egg from Millport Dairy, sautéed briefly (about 3 minutes on each side) in butter along with a few sage leaves from Stokes Farm that I had dried over the last weeks, and one finely-chopped small orange (heatless) Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, drizzled with about 2 tablespoons of lemon juice, tranferred onto the plates, the juices remaining in the pan distributed over them, followed by a sprinkling fennel flowers from Rise & Root Farm
• yellow zucchini (‘Goldbar zucchini’) from Sycamore Farms and dark green zucchini from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced thickly, brushed (actually, massaged) with a combination of olive oil, finely-chopped German Hardneck garlic from Race Farm, salt, and pepper, pan grilled, turning once, until cooked though, then arranged on a platter, sprinkled with some chopped ‘Julip mint’ from Keith’s Farm and peppermint from Stokes Farm, drizzled with a little olive oil
• the wine was a California (Santa Ynez) white, Literally Chardonnay California 2013
• the music was an album of music by Roman Haubenstock-Ramati, ‘Mobile for Shakespeare’

I had planned to put together only a plain pasta dish last night, although it might have included this squid ink fettuccine already in the larder, but while I was at Whole Foods to pick up milk and juice, I remembered they carried some decent fresh crab meat, from Virginia (which is not really so far down the coast, and therefore almost local). The crab ended up describing the dinner.

I had prepared something fairly similar early in 2015, using a very simple recipe by Frank Camora, but with a very different pasta.

• one seeded medium-hot cherry red pepper from Eatlay, heated gently in olive oil along with one two German Hardneck garlic cloves from Race Farm, all sliced thinly, until they started to sizzle, the heat turned up for a short time while a quarter cup of white wine was added, the pan removed from the heat and about one quarter of an 8-ounce container of crabmeat, Little River Brand, which I believe is from the Chesapeake Bay, purchased at Whole Food, added to and crushed in the oil, the pan returned to a very low heat where the contents begin to emulsify as a sauce; in the meantime half a pound of pasta (Al Dente Pasta Company artisanal squid ink fettuccine), which had been boiling for barely 3 minutes in a large pot of salted water, 3 cups or so of the water removed near the end, for adding to the mix later, the fettuccine drained and tossed with the sauce (which was removed from the heat just before), the remaining crabmeat then added and stirred in, along with the addition of enough pasta water to continue emulsifying the mix, and a generous amount of chopped parsley and lovage from Keith’s Farm sprinkled into it and garnishing the bowls when served
• lemon quarters were served on the side, to be generously squeezed onto the pasta

There was a cheese course, with almost the very smallest amount of cheese. It included figs, and toast as well, the excuse being that the bread itself contained fruit.

• a bit of ‘Slybro’ goat cheese from Consider Bardwell (there were 2 small pieces on each plate), fresh black, or ‘Brown Turkey’ figs from Eataly, and thin toasts from a loaf of organic whole wheat raisin bread from Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian (Friuli-Venezia) white, Scarpetta Frico Bianco delle Venezie 2014
• the music was from the album, ‘Approaching Dutilleux‘, from the Riot Ensemble, and it included Arne Gieshoff’s wonderful, ‘Wucherung’ (2014), for solo oboe; as usual for this composer, it’s an absolutely fantastic piece: to me all musical instruments are alive, at the very least from the moment they are heard, but Rebecca Cass’s oboe sounds very much like a living, breathing, and very human being; even people who think they’re not interested in new music – or classical music – would likely be moved by this elegant, and, I suspect, deceivingly simple work, and not just while relaxing in good company after a good dinner

After the luxury and pleasure of another Sunday breakfast like this one, I could almost be tempted to forgo making any meal that does not involve eggs in one form or another. I won’t, if only because I wouldn’t want dishes like this to ever become routine.

But these ‘breakfast’ forms are pretty easy to assemble, and they open themselves up to infinite variations; I’ve hardly even begun to go there.

This one was made non-routine, in an unanticipated way, when I picked up a neat-looking loaf of bread at Whole Foods a few days ago (I didn’t have the time to hunt further, as I normally would).  There was noting in its appearance behind the small cellophane window, or in the name on the label itself, that would have indicated it was a raisin bread.

It was a raisin bread. I almost never buy raisin bread. It makes a difference if your bread has raisins.

It did this time. It was actually a very interesting addition to what was already a pretty diverse company of flavors in this breakfast.

• eggs and thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm; sliced Japanese red scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm; one small mild Grenada yellow seasoning pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm (flavor of a habanero, a fraction of the heat); some rich nonpareil ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘; a mix of 5 chopped herbs remaining from last night’s meal (parsley, julip mint, and lovage from Keith’s Farm; marjoram and rosemary from Stokes Farm); Maldon sea salt, freshly-ground ‘India Special Extra Bold’ Tellicherry peppercorns; a Middle-Eastern-style seasoning blend, ‘L’eKama‘ from NY Shuk; organic whole wheat raisin bread from Whole Foods, toasted only lightly; and micro basil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the music, this being a Sunday, was ‘sacred’ (nothing is sacred to us, but it’s a Sunday morning tradition here), one of Giovanni Gabrieli‘s early 17th-century Sacred Symphonies, the 50-minute-long, Symphoniae Sacrae II (1615). An aside: I may be wrong, but I believe the world would not hear another ‘symphony’ that long for almost 200 more years, or another choral symphony before then either