spaghetti chitarra with garlic, tomato, red chili, chopped dill

spaghetti_tomato_dill

For me it was a virtually a night off (but I still did the dishes).

  • eight ounces of Setaro spaghetti chitarra from Buon Italia, with a simple sauce which included olive oil, garlic from Willow Wisp Farm, part of a small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, chopped, one red heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm and one green heirloom tomato from Stokes Farm, a few very sweet, very ripe cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, and a sprinkling of chopped dill from Willow Wisp Farm
  • the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2014
  • the music was  ‘[Johann Jacob] Froberger, Suites and Tocattas‘, played by Christophe Rousset

smoked trout, dill mayonaise; potato and cucumber salads

smoked_trout_potato_cucumber

We’ve been collecting a few rieslings over the last months, but hadn’t had entrées suitable for this special wine. This past week I decided it was time, so I thought of putting together a simple meal of trout accompanied by a couple of more-or-less-Germanic vegetables.

I was aiming for fresh whole trout, but this past Wednesday, the only day on which Dave Harris and his Max Creek Hatchery are in Union Square, there was, literally, a run on the market. Blue Moon, the other fish seller who would normally have also been there that day, had to cancel because Hermine had been hanging around, stirring up the waters off eastern Long Island, making it too dangerous for a boat to go out the day before.

Dave mostly doesn’t have to think about hurricanes or cyclones (he’s located very much inland, far west of Albany). He and his truck were there all set up, but not surprisingly, the fresh trout went fast. He told me he hadn’t known that he would be the only game in town that day, or he would have brought more stock down from the north. When I got there, a little past noon, there were no more fresh trout, but he still had some of the smoked, and that’s what I built that night’s meal around.

The model was pretty German, but the elements were almost entirely local. This time ‘local’ included the wine as well. The Treleaven dry riesling wasn’t just a New York state wine, but one I had purchased only a mile away, in the Union Square Greenmarket, from which almost everything else in this meal was assembled.

  • three quarters of a pound of a single smoked trout from Max Creek Hatchery, skinned, boned, divided, one side placed on each of 2 plates, served with a mix of a really good prepared mayonaise, Sir Kensington’s, plain, Classic Mayonnaise (made by ex-Brown students, with headquarters in SoHo), lemon zest and lemon juice, and chopped fresh dill from Willow Wisp Farm
  • the potato salad was about as simple as I could imagine preparing, using 12 ounces of small red new potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled, thinly-sliced (skins left on), mixed, while still warm, with a couple tablespoons of good red wine (Chianti) vinegar into which a generous pinch of sugar had first been stirred and diluted, followed by 2 thinly-sliced small red pearl onions from Paffenroth Farms, the mix seasoned with salt and pepper, cooled to room temperature, finished with a little olive oil, chopped parsley, and lovage, both from Keith’s Farm
  • the cucumber salad was also pretty plain, by my normal standards, including no onion, only thinly-sliced cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, white wine (Langhe) vinegar (Cesare Giaccone aceto di vino bianco), water, sugar, a little chopped garlic, and dried cumin seed (in lieu of the dill seed I didn’t have), chilled for more than an hour
  • fourteen of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes‘ from Stokes Farm, rolled in a little good Campania olive oil, Malson salt, and freshly-ground pepper, sprinkled with a bit of torn basil
  • the wine was a New York (Cayuga Lake) white, Treleaven Dry Riesling 2013, from King Ferry Winery, via the winemakers’ stall in the Union Square Greenmarket
  • the music was German, Johann Friedrich Fasch, Orchestral Works, Vol. 1

rye pasta with cucumber, scallions, fresh chili, fennel flower

cucumber_rye_pasta

I’ve written before about how much I like Sfoglini pasta (quality, variety of forms and content, seasonal specialties, local origin, striated surfaces). On Tuesday evening I finished the second half of my package of their ‘Rye Trumpets’ (the Italians call the shape, ‘campanelle’, or bells, suggesting these), this time adding an ingredient as rare as, or more rare than that pasta: sautéed cucumbers; more exotic still, they were a variety most people have never seen, Jamaica Burr.

Jamaica_burr_cucumbers

  • Jamaica Burr cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced about 1/4″ thick, dried, sautéed in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until beginning to color, and then one very small, seeded, finely-chopped red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm and several chopped scallions added, in that order, near the end, the vegetables seasoned with salt and pepper before they were mixed with half a pound of Sfoglini rye blend ‘trumpets which were cooked seriously al dente, everything (including some of the reserved pasta water) tossed and stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, served sprinkled with fennel flowers from Ryder Farm
  • the wine was an Italian (Alto Adige/Südtirol) white, from Chelsea Wine VaultLa Manina Manincor 2013
  • the music was Mozart divertimentos/serenades, from the 3-disc album, ‘Mozart: Complete Wind Music‘, in performances by the London Wind Soloists , directed by Jack Brymer

steak, micro radish; okra, chili, breadcrumbs; peppers, basil

tri-tip_tiny_peppers-tiny_okra

The steak was familiar, even to the topping, and so was the okra, even if these were the smallest I had ever cooked, or seen, for that matter. The sweet peppers looked only a little like any I had seen before, and they were definitely smaller than any I had cooked until last night.

I bought the okra because this scant handful was all that was left in the plastic basket in the farm stall; they looked lonely and they were cute.

The peppers, I was assured by the farmer, Chris Field, were not spicy; I love peppers in any form, and I decided these tiny ones could also liven up a meal with their color. I never suspected that they would have a very distinctive flavor, and that they would almost pop inside the mouth, both properties a bit like the South African ‘Peppedew‘.  While talking to Chris at his stand on Saturday, I forgot to ask what they are called, but I may have found an answer while looking on line today: the name may be ‘Little-Beak Peppers’, or ‘Pimenta Biquinho’.

I didn’t think I would be serving the little okra and peppers together (way too cute), but that’s what happened when I lined up the alternatives for 3 meals this weekend.

Yeah, it was pretty cute.

  • two very juicy tri-tip steaks (each just under 7 ounces) from Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, brought to room temperature, dried and sprinkled generously with freshly-ground tellicherry pepper on both sides, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning twice (sprinkling them with sea salt the first and second times they were turned), removed to 2 plates, a little lemon juice squeezed on top, drizzled with olive oil, purple micro radish from Two Guy From Woodbridge sprinkled over the top
  • barely a handful of tiny okra from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed over a high flame in a cast iron pan with a little olive oil and a good part of one small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, seasoned with sea salt, divided onto the 2 plates, scattered with homemade breadcrumbs (browned a little earlier in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt)
  • tiny red and yellow peppers (not at all spicy hot) from Campo Rosso Farm, sautéed a few minutes inside a copper skillet with a little olive oil, ending with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar, seasoned with salt and pepper, torn basil leaves mixed in, as they finished cooking
  • the wine was a California (Clarksburg) red, Karen Birmingham Petite Sirah Clarksburg 2014
  • the music was that of Hanns Eisler and Paul Dessau, from the album, ‘Nova – Sinfonik In Der Ddr – East German Symphonies’, the day being American ‘Labor Day’, and, although “..officially held in highest esteem, [these 2 East German composers] both challenged the regime artistically.” [excerpted from the album notes – Ed.]

insalata caprese; grilled octopus; eggplant, mint, tomatoes

octopus_eggplant

I know that the pleasure of eating octopus, to say nothing of an interest in preparing it, isn’t something many people share with me, but I’m both really fond of the taste, and continually excited about how incredibly easy it is to prepare.

I also love the color.

Octopus can be found on almost every coast on earth, except our own, the northern western Atlantic. I would love to bring home a local catch, but for the ones we enjoyed Sunday night, I had to travel to Spain (by way of lobster Place) once again.

While these baby cephalopods came from Iberia, polipetti is in fact very Italian, and virtually everything about this meal was also Italian, in fact southern Italian (and much of it really was from Italy): the cheese, the various tomatoes, the bread, the basil, the olive oil, the oregano (fresh and dried), the lemon, the dried chilis, the eggplant, the mint, and the dinner wine itself.

eggplant_platter

eggplant_Prosperosa

I prepared the grilled heirloom eggplant and cherry tomatoes ahead of time, even prior to assembling the the first course, serving both at room temperature, in Italian tradition, after arranging them on this platter.

 

The meal actually began with an insalata Caprese.

tomato_Caprese

  • one red and one orange heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm, sliced into bit-size pieces, arranged on 2 plates, bits of Italian Mozzarella di Bufala Campania from Buon Italia tucked in between the slices, drizzled with a Campania olive oil, Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina, sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, torn leaves of basil from Lucky Dog Organic Farm sprinkled on top
  • the bread was ‘Sesamo’, from Sullivan Street Bakery

The second course was incredibly simple, because the vegetable had already been prepared and the octopus had only to be removed from a marinade begun in leisure 3 hours earlier, then placed on a grill pan for a few minutes before being finished with lemon, oregano, and oil.

This gorgeous eggplant, a variety totally new to me, was incredibly delicious, and really juicy (since I’m talking about eggplant, I’ll add, “jucy in the very best way”).

  • four baby octopus (a total of about 12 ounces) from Lobster place, marinated in the refrigerator, covered, for 3 hours (although as little as one hour would be acceptable) in a mixture of 1/4 cup olive oil; one teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from the Madonie Mountains in Sicily; the zest and juice of half of a lemon; 1/4 teaspoon of crushed dried Sicilian peperoncino from Buon Italia; 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt; and 2 finely-chopped small garlic cloves from Willow Wisp Farm, the octopus removed from the mix and brought to room temperature, pan-grilled on high heat for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on size, on each ‘side’ (that is, in the case of this creature, mouth/beak down, then lying down on a side), served drizzled with olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, and chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm
  • one round Italian heirloom eggplant, ‘Prosperosa’, from Franca at Berried Treasures Farm, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds, brushed with a mixture of olive oil, finely-chopped garlic from Willow Wisp Farm, chopped peppermint leaves from Stokes Farm, salt, and pepper, the slices pan-grilled, turning once, and just before they were done, joined by 16 of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, the eggplant and the tomatoes arranged on an oval platter, garnished with mint leaves (although, admittedly, ‘garnishing’ is not an Italian gesture at all) and kept at room temperature until the octopus had been cooked
  • the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Falanghina Feudi di San Gregorio 2014
  • the music was from the album, ‘Comedie et Tragedie – Lully, Marais, Rebel’ (early 18th-century music by Jean-Baptiste Lully, Jean-Féry Rebel, and Marin Marais, performances by Tempesta di Mare)

fried eggs and then some (I cannot just leave them naked)

fried_egg_pie

Aside from the fact that it looks like fried egg pie, this isn’t what most people think of when they think, ‘fried eggs’.

I just can’t leave fried eggs alone, and this morning I had an extra incentive for going a little further than even I normally do, having realized at the last minute that I didn’t have any bacon to accompany our Sunday breakfast/lunch.

The eggs looked – and tasted – so good, I forgot to add my latest favorite condiment, a terrific locally-made middle-eastern-style seasoning blend, ‘L’eKama‘.

  • the eggs were from Millport Dairy Farm, and, other than the salt and pepper, everything else was from a tub of herbs and spices not used in very recent meals (already washed and sometimes cut) which I keep in a tub in the refrigerator: the thin scallion stems from Race Farm, the finely-chopped portion of a small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, the herbs from various Greenmarket farmers
  • the bread was some very-lightly-toasted slices of ‘Sesamo’, from Sullivan Bakery

fennel-grilled tuna; grilled tomato; sautéed radish, scallion

tuna_tomato_radish

The colors, deeper than those displayed on these pages, suggest we’ve moved into late summer.

Although it’s barely worth mentioning, there’s the fact that the same herb or vegetable was used in 2 or 3 different forms in 2 of the 3 items on the plates last night. It hadn’t really been a plan, but I ended up finishing the ground-dry-fennel-covered tuna with fresh fennel flowers, and the radish roots and greens with fresh micro radish, and it worked.

radish_easter_egg

black_plum_tomatoes

In a related move, the sweet acidity of the tomato was accompanied by another sweet acid, a balsamic vinegar, but this is something I do very often.

  • one 13-ounce tuna steak, divided into 2 pieces, rubbed top and bottom with a mixture of dry Italian fennel seed and a little dried Itria-Sirissi chilis (peperoncino di Sardegna intero) from Buon Italia, first ground together in a mortar-and-pestle, the surfaces additionally seasoned with salt, and pepper, pan-grilled for only a little more than a minute or so on each side, finished with a good squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods, scattered with fresh fennel flowers from Ryder Farm, and drizzled with a very good olive oil
  • small seasoned pan-grilled ‘black’ (they darken as they ripen) plum tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, finished with a dab of olive oil and a bit of balsamic vinegar
  • one small bunch of radishes (‘Easter Egg’) from Willow Wisp Farm, washed and halved, the leaves removed and set aside, sautéed in a little olive oil in a copper skillet for a few minutes, 5 small scallions from Race Farm, sliced, along with part of a finely-chopped small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm added near the end of the cooking, after which the radish leaves, cut into smaller pieces, were introduced into the pan, stirred, and allowed to wilt, the mix sprinkled with salt and pepper, more of the chopped scallion added at this time, and a little white wine poured in and stirred, until the liquid had evaporated
  • the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, I Vini della Sibilla Falanghina dei Campi Flegrei 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
  • the music was again from the excellent 4-disc album, ‘The Sons of Bach‘ this time pieces by Johann Christian Bach, ‘the London Bach’, or ‘the English Bach’

black sea bass, mushrooms, herbs; snow peas, chili, mint

bass_mushrooms_snow_peas

It was another round of fish with mushrooms, although it was different fish and different mushrooms (also different vegetable). It was, almost, the same simple, excellent recipe, and it was at least as delicious as the first time up.

 

golden_oyster_mushrooms

purple_snow_peas

  • four 3-ounce black sea bass fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, seasoned on both sides with salt and pepper, sautéed over a fairly brisk flame with butter and a little olive oil inside a large, thick oval copper pan, skin side down, then turned after about 2-3 minutes and the other side cooked for about the same length of time, removed to 2 plates when done, covered at least a little to keep warm, a tablespoon or more butter added to the pan, and 4 ounces of mushrooms (golden oyster [pleurotus citrinopileatus], from Blue Oyster Cultivation, cut into large-ish pieces, sautéed, stirring, until lightly cooked, seasoned with salt, pepper, a couple tablespoons of chopped lovage and chopped parsley, both from Keith’s Farm, and a tablespoon of lemon juice, or a little more, the mushrooms stirred some more before they and the juices were spooned on top of the fish, which was finished with micro purple radish greens from Two Guys From Woodbridge
  • purple snow peas from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in olive oil along with a little more than one finely-diced small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, tossed with spearmint from Stokes Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper
  • the wine was a California (Central Coast, Santa Ynez Valley) white,  Rick Boyer Central Coast White Blend 2015
  • the music was that of Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach, the master’s fifth son, the ‘Bückeburg Bach’, and once again from the excellent 4-disc album, ‘The Sons of Bach

orecchiette, rapini, garlic, red chili, anchovy, breadcrumbs

orecchiette_broccoli_rabe

It’s a classic, and also very simple, which means it’s doubly difficult to fool around with the formula. But then, there really is absolutely no reason to want to do so.

Okay, the chili chosen will vary, even as to whether it is fresh or dry, the rabe will taste differently at different times of the year, the bread used will also change, as will the pasta chosen, but basically the recipe won’t stray from its origins, and it shouldn’t.

It’s perfect; all the experimenting that got it there was done long ago.

Calabrian_peppers

  • half of a pound of an excellent artisanal Puglian pasta,‘I Tipici’ Orecchiette Agricola del Sole, from Eataly, and half a pound of young, tender broccoli rabe (rapini) from Willow Wisp Farm, the bottom stems removed and the rest of the greens roughly chopped, pasta and vegetable boiled together in a large pot of salted water until the pasta was barely al dente, a cup of the water reserved just before the orecchiette was drained, the orecchiette and the rabe tossed into a separate heavy deep pot in which 3 garlic cloves, 3 salted anchovies (rinsed and filleted), and 2 small red Calabrian peppers (seeded and chopped finely) from Campo Rosso Farm from Oak Grove Plantation had been slowly heated until the garlic had softened and colored lightly, everything (including a judicious amount of the reserved pasta water) then tossed and stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, served sprinkled with half of a cup of fresh homemade breadcrumbs made from a 2-day-old loaf of ‘Compagne’, a traditional sourdough from Bien Cuit Bakery via Foragers Market (browned a little earlier in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt)
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2015
  • the music was more works from the terrific album we listened to the night before, ‘The Sons of Bach’, performed, variously, by the Freiburg Bach Orchestra, the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra Consort, and the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra

skate, alliums, lemon, lovage, micro radish; tomato; okra

skate_tomato_okra

The skate is an excellent fish, and not unfamiliar to most people interested in eating fish, but this recipe is nothing like the one with which most are familiar (you folks know the one I mean). I’m crazy about the treatment I’ve now used a number of times: It’sdelicious, I can easily vary it, and it looks more complicated than it actually is. There’s also that thing I wrote about it 2 years back: “Dredging this extremely tender fish with polenta, rather than flour, gives it real presence while protecting its delicacy. It wasn’t my invention, but rather Mila‘s.”

The very fresh vegetables were even more simple, and as delicious as they were colorful.

okra

  • two 7-ounce skate wings from Blue Moon Fish, coated all over with a coarse polenta seasoned with salt and pepper, sautéed in olive oil (and a bit of butter) for 3 or so minutes on each side in a heavy round copper skillet (the only difficult part of this recipe is turning them over without breaking them up, and it helps if they don’t quite fill the pan use use), removed, about 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter, one small shallot from John D. Madura Farm, 2 thin scallions from Race Farm, and 2 small cloves of garlic from Willow Wisp Farm, all sliced or chopped, introduced into it and stirred over a now-lowered flame, followed by the addition of a little more butter, the juice from half of a lemon and some chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, and stirring for a bit, finishing on the plates with a scattering of micro purple radish greens from Two Guys From Woodbridge
  • a large handful of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, halved, mixed with a bit of an excellent olive oil (D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum), salt, pepper, chopped tarragon form Stokes Farm, torn basil from Campo Rosso Farm, and a dash of white balsamic vinegar
  • small okra from Kernan Farms, sautéed over a high flame in a large cast iron pan with a little olive oil and a good part of one small red Calabrian pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, seasoned with sea salt
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was from an extraordinary recording of wonderful music played magnificently, ‘The Sons of Bach’, performed, variously, by the Freiburg Bach Orchestra, the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra Consort, and the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra; two pieces in particular stood out as incredibly exciting, music far more vital than I had thought the early classical era could produce: Wilhelm Friedemann Bach‘s ‘Concerto for Harpsichord in E Minor, F 43, from 1767; and Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach‘s Sinfonia in E minor, Wq 178/H 653, from 1756