Note to self:  This is a great dish, but the amount of cabbage suggested in the recipe which inspired it should be reduced dramatically, by half, or even more.

 

I had not been looking at the forecast at all, so I didn’t choose this entrée because we were expected to get the first real taste of colder weather the night I put this dish together, but obviously a meal which included cabbage and sausage was a welcome greeting for a new season.

The basic form of the recipe (which was in fact itself pretty basic, with few ingredients) comes from Martha Stewart. It was delicious, but, as I mentioned above, the amount of cabbage she prescribes is far more than needed.  There was enough left over to allow another visit with it, even as an entrée.

• eight ounces of Setaro spaghetto from Buon Italia, tossed with a sauce which included 14 ounces of ‘Jane’s So Sweet’ Italian pork sausages from Flying Pigs Farm (the minimal ingredients are: pork, water, salt, black pepper, fennel, and garlic, in natural hog casings) one 24-ounce savoy cabbage from Berried Treasures, one large red onion from John D. Madura Farm, and a bit of a good white wine vinegar
• the wine was a California (Central Valley) white, JC van Staden Pinot Grigio 2014
• the music was Mozart, the String Quartet No. 18

Note to self: The vegetable side dish may be difficult to recreate, since I’ve never before come across tromboncino (or zucchetta), but it was at least a terrific one-off, and a great companion to the excellent fresh scallops.  Keep a sharp eye out for this vegetable.

 

I really did splurge a bit, although unintentionally, in ordering twelve scallops for the two of us.  Eight would have been sufficient (a number which would have cost only about about $11.50 at today’s market price), but they made for a great meal, and I have to admit that there was very little else to accompany it, even if that very little else comprised a superb dish.

My preparation of the vegetables was an adaptation of this recipe, which I found on line while searching for information on the squash itself.  Tromboncino, or  zuchetta, goes by many names, but it is an heirloom form of zucchini, and it apparently originated in Liguria, making it, I thought, particularly suitable as an accompaniment to the seafood I had chosen for the meal.

• ten sea scallops from Pura Vida Fisheries, washed, rinsed and dried very thoroughly, pan grilled, finished with a squeeze of lemon juice and drizzled with olive oil [the recipe, one of my favorites there, or anywhere else, is included in Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers’ ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘]
• some very small and tender tromboncino, or  zuchetta, from Berried Treasures Farm, washed, dried, cut into small portions, sautéed in butter and oil over medium heat until they began to brown, turning/stirring occasionally, seasoned with salt and pepper before slivers of one jalapeño pepper from Berried Treasures Farm and one small quartered heirloom tomato and a handful of halved ‘Mountain Magic’ red cherry tomatoes, all from Norwich Meadows Farm, were added, the heat turned low and the contents of the pan simmered for about 10 to 15 minutes, or until the zucchini was cooked to taste and the tomatoes had begun to form a sauce, the dish finished with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm.  Cooking hint: I left the jalapeño as slivers, so they would be easy to spot and remove, once on the plates, should they have turned out to be hotter than expected. 

• the wine was a California white, Miriam Alexander Chenin Blanc 2014
• the music was the Kreutcher quartet playing some of Anton Reicha’s quartets

a wonderful pairing, even before the wine was poured

 

The meal was a treat, and had I not purchased all the ingredients myself, I might have had a hard time believing that all ingredients together probably set me back only 11 or 12 dollars, and that’s for two people!  Even considering that it was a dinner prepared at home, the figure is pretty incredible, although absolutely verifiable.  The squid cost $6.50 (and had I wanted to clean them myself, it would have been only about $3.25), the treviso was less than half that, and the oil, lemon, balsamic vinegar, dried oregano, dried chile, salt, and pepper just might have brought the total up to the figure I mentioned above.

This is one of the reasons why we can afford to eat out in New York, at least once in a blue moon. Perhaps ironically, this time the seafood itself was actually from the ‘Blue Moon’, to be specific, Blue Moon Fish.  Exactly who’s irony was involved, I can’t say, since I don’t know the story behind the name Alex and Steph gave to their little blue-hulled fishing boat).

 

Ruby’s rendering, of the ‘Blue Moon’, spotted on the bulletin board of her family’s Greenmarket stall

 

• cleaned squid bodies and tentacles from Blue Moon Fish, in Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, dried, placed in an enameled cast iron pan after its cooking surface had been brushed with olive oil and heated on top of the range until very hot, then sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia and one crushed dried pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, with a good squeeze of lemon juice and some olive oil drizzled over the top, placed in a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for five minutes
• one head of treviso, from Lucky Dog Organic, quartered lengthwise, drizzled with a little olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper, turned several times to coat well, and placed, cut-side down on a baking sheet, roasted in the same 400º oven, turning once, for 12 minutes or so, or until the leaves are wilted and charred slightly, transferred to plates, drizzled with balsamic vinegar and a squeeze of lemon
• the wine was a Spanish (Valladolid) white, Blanco Nieva Verdejo 2013, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits
• the music was Sviatoslav Richter playing Beethoven piano sonatas

extravagantly simple, and also simply lavish

 

There could hardly be a simpler meal than this one.  In addition, few could be easier to make, if it weren’t for the amount of attention needed to see that a large number of simple eggplant ‘coins’ are properly  cooked before they’re tossed with an extraordinarily good artisanal pasta.

I found the very minimal recipe many years ago inside a magazine article describing half a dozen simple pasta dishes. It was described by Fred Plotkin as the inspiration of Signora Francesca Pantonocito, relayed to him by her daughter Laura.

I can’t find anything on line about either Pantonocito, so I have noting else to share, except one very useful tip, from the recipe’s author, that zucchini could well be substituted for the eggplant.  Normally I’d be tempted to suggest adding mint in either case, but this formula is absolutely perfect as it is, so long as a very good pasta is used.

• Setaro spaghetto from Buon Italia (about eight ounces), tossed in a large cast-iron pan in which thinly-sliced coins of Japanese eggplant from Lani’s Farm had been allowed to brown in a coating of olive oil over high (but not smoking) heat, then removed, the oil remaining, the pasta with melanzane then finished with freshly-ground black pepper and a generous sprinkling of very good Red Cow Parmesan cheese from Eataly
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) red, Corvo Nero d’Avola 2012
• the music was the Brooklyn Rider album, ‘Dominant Curve‘, which includes Debussy’s String Quartet

yeah, way Teutonic

 

While I have to get it out of my system ever so often (cooking a genuine German meal), this time it was partly driven by my unanticipated accumulation of ingredients which, at least considered together, seemed to suggest no other choice.  It looks like a lot of food in the image above, and it was; we had leftovers, and they were delicious at lunch the next day.

• two half-pound ham steaks from Millport Dairy, very briefly seared in a seasoned steel pan, then buried inside a pot of sauerkraut while it was slowly finishing cooking
• the sauerkraut began inside a large enameled, cast iron pan with a small minced onion from a friend’s garden upstate and most of one Honey Crisp apple from Troncillito Farm, chopped, sautéed in a bit of rendered lard (labelled ‘Morrell Snow Cap Manteca’, from Eataly) until golden, then one-pound of Cortland Valley sauerkraut from Whole Foods, which had been rinsed twice, was stirred in, mixed with the fat, covered and braised over very low heat for ten minutes, about a cup of good low-sodium organic beef stock stock added to the pot, 8 crushed dried juniper berries added, the cover replaced and the mix very slowly simmered for about an hour, or until the sauerkraut is soft, but not overcooked, during the last 20 minutes or so, a small raw potato shaved over the top and stirred in to thicken the liquid, and the ham steaks added shortly after that and allowed to become warm [Note:  the sauerkraut will taste even better if prepared the day before and stored in the refrigerator overnight]
• Red Norland new potatoes from Berried Treasures boiled in salted water, drained and dried in the still-warm glass pot, rolled in a little butter, and sprinkled with summer savory from Keith’s Farm
• two small Kirby cucumbers from Stokes Farm, sliced thinly, sprinkled in a bowl with salt and ground white pepper, covered with a mixture of half unfiltered organic white vinegar and half water, seasoned with a little Turbinado sugar, tossed with one small, thinly-sliced ‘red tropea’ Calabrian turbo shallot from Paffenroth Gardens, plus a combination of dill flowers from Ryder Farm and parsley from Keith’s Farm, both chopped, then allowed to sit for a while in the refrigerator before serving
• the wine was a German (Mosel) white, Loosen Bros. Riesling ‘Dr. L’ 2011
• the music included Poul Ruders, ‘Cembal d’Amour, First Book’

 

I had picked up a single large flounder fillet at the Greenmarket around midday on Saturday, and then put it safely in the refrigerator, but by the time we finally left a reception at some friends’ home, it was around 10 at night, so the clock was definitely ticking when I arrived home:  I had to come up with a treatment – and for a vegetable to accompany it – which could get us to bed at a reasonable hour (well, reasonable for us).

Preparing the flounder much as I usually do could have saved a few minutes, but I really wanted to move into new territory, so I tried something I hadn’t done before, ending up losing little or no time in the process.  The recipe I turned to, but altered in practice, was by David Tanis, as printed in the New York Times.

Of the vegetables I had on hand, I decided that the fastest to prepare, and one which would also work well with the fish, was the rather special pole beans I had also picked up today.

• one large 17 ounce flounder fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, divided into four pieces, to serve two (if you know the asymmetrical shape of a flounder fillet, you’ll know why I did that), seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, coated lightly with flour (I used North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour), submerged in a shallow bowl containing a whipped mixture of 1/3 cup of milk, one large egg from Millport Dairy, and a pinch of salt; when a mixture of olive oil and butter in a shallow skillet began to look wavy, fried until golden, about two minutes for each side, removed, blotted on paper towels, transferred onto two warm plates;  any oil remaining poured off, the skillet returned to heat, now lower, three tablespoons of butter melted, followed by one small, very fresh leek from Ryder Farm, chopped thinly, salt, and pepper, which were allowed to cook together without browning (for about one minute), more than a tablespoon of lemon juice added, and the sauce stirred, then about a tablespoon of chopped dill flowers from Ryder Farms added, the sauce poured over the warm plated fillets, served with pieces of lemon (wedges would be far more convenient than the slices pictured here); note: Once at the table, and after I had photographed the plate, I sprinkled chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm over the top of the flounder, since the dill was surprisingly subtle in effect by itself
• ‘Maxibel’ green beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and lovage from Keith’s Farm
• the wine was a California white, Scott McLeod Chardonnay Russian River Valley 2014
• the music included symphonies by Franz Anton Hoffmeister and Franz Josef Haydn, and it included Haydn’s exquisite homage (whether conscious or unconscious) to the age in which his art flourished, his Symphony No. 22,  ‘Der Philosoph‘, here, the entire adagio can be heard, performed by the Mahler Chamber Orchestra, Marc Minkowski conductor

pretty fast slow food

 

• Rana spinach and ricotta-filled ravioli from Eataly, tossed in an enameled iron pan in which two small slivered garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm had been heated in olive oil until just fragrant, removed from the heat and a bit of fresh red Italian ‘roaster pepper’ from Oak Grove Plantation, chopped, added, followed by red grape tomatoes and orange cherry tomatoes (‘Clementine’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, all halved, and finished with torn Gotham Greens Brooklyn Rooftop basil from Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian (Veneto) white, Alpha Zeta Soave 2014, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits
• the music was Beethoven, String Quartets 1 and 2, played by the Guarneri Quartet

The  swordfish was on sale. I love swordfish. I love herbs. I always have a number of fresh ones on hand. I like trying out different treatments. I sometimes make the wrong call.  Now I know that fresh fennel seed just doesn’t have oregano’s ooomph.

But it was still all good.

• a one pound swordfish steak, more than an inch thick, from Blue Moon Fish Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, cut into two pieces, marinated briefly in a mixture of olive oil and fresh fennel seed from Lani’s Farm, then drained well and covered with a coating of dried homemade bread crumbs, fried in a hot cast iron pan for about 4-5 minutes on each side, removed, salted, sprinkled with a little lemon juice, and drizzled with olive oil before serving
• three heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced in half, placed face-down on a plate scattered with salt and freshly ground pepper, pan-grilled above a medium-hot flame, removed, drizzled with olive oil
• kirby cucumbers from Stokes Farm, washed, halved lengthwise, then sliced into one-centimeter sections [hey, my inspiration was Jamie Oliver, and the British, like the rest of the world speak metric], mixed in a bowl with pitted Gaeta olives from Buon Italia in Chelsea Market, one very small young leek from Ryder Farm, sliced into very small sections, a bit of balsamic vinegar, some olive oil and lemon juice, a pinch of freshly-ground black pepper, and most of a fresh red Italian ‘roaster pepper’, chopped, from Oak Grove Plantation (for color and some fine-tuning), finished with torn leaves of peppermint from Phillips Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits, L’Isola dei Profumi Catattatto – Grecanico 2014
• the music was several pieces by Johanna Magdalena Beyer

 

 

This dish incorporates virtually every food group, except wine, and it’s potentially infinitely variable.

Among those variations, to improve the chances for getting the eggs cooked just right, I’d suggest using ceramic dishes, or a single one, with a larger diameter than the six inches I had available.

 

• inside each of two lightly-oiled cazuelas, a small amount of Fage Greek plain yoghurt (because I had no cream on hand), followed by layers of Applegate Naturals prosciutto from Whole Foods, slices of heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, torn leaves of arugula from John D. Madura Farm, three eggs cracked open on the top, from Millport Dairy, and including along the way part of a crushed peperoncino, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, the dishes placed inside a 375º oven for about 20-25 minutes until the whites were almost opaque and the yolks (ideally) still runny, since the dish will continue to cook after leaving the oven, then allowed to cool a bit in order to better appreciate the combined flavors
• slices of Trucio Sare, from Sullivan Street Bakery
• the wine was a California (Mendocino) red, Derek Rohlffs 99 Barrels Pinot Noir Anderson Valley 2013
• the music was ‘Silent City‘, an album by the New York-based string quartet, Brooklyn Rider and Iranian Musician Kayhan Kalhor

it’s called a ‘walleye’ (they also sell it whole, here Spanish mackerel below, bluefish above);

on our kitchen counter, seasoned, ready to be floured;

and on the plate.

 

It’s a wonderful fish.

While growing up in Michigan and Wisconsin, I thought of the walleye, or ‘walleyed-pike’, or just ‘pickerel, as a very big thing, virtually the subject of fable, and not just because Algonac, where our turn-of-the-20th-century porched cottage sat on the St. Claire River, is the home of the nonpareil Algonac Pickerel Tournament  [slideshow of 1949 parade here].  To tell the truth, I was actually always much more excited by the scary Muskellunge, or ‘Muskie’.  It was a catch which might have been more elusive, but their angry bared-teeth heads were everywhere, mount-it-yourself trophies hung above the garage doors (or in dens) of successful pursuers, much like the antlers which land hunters, who also sought out size (numbers of ‘points’ on ‘racks’), still display to invite the admiration of their peers.

But me, I stuck with perch and sunfish.

That’s the background for my excitement five years ago when I found, while visiting The Lobster Place, a small sign for and display of beautiful white fillets of ‘pike’, specifically, ‘wild West Virginia pike’.

Looking on line, I’ve just learned that the Chain Pickerel [Esox Niger], so named because of its scale figuration, is an eastern variant of the pickerel, found in all kinds of  waters, in West Virginia probably most notably in the main channel of the Ohio River.  It seems that it was this pike that I first took home from The Lobster Place.

Lately the Chelsea Market shop has been showing pike labelled, ‘wild: Great Lakes’.  The fish guy told me he thought it came from Wisconsin waters, but he wasn’t certain.  For sure I can go with Wisconsin; it’s where my parents’ families have lived for nearly 200 years, and Grandfather Wagner’s farm there bordered Lake Michigan; it’s also where I spent parts of many summer vacations (when we were not in Algonac),

The American pike is very close to the European ‘zander‘, or ‘pike-perch’, which we’ve enjoyed as very special treats in Germany.

Last night we enjoyed it at home in Chelsea.

• pike fillet from The Lobster Place, prepared more or less as Badischer Grashecht mit Speck gebraten (Baden Zander with Speck), a recipe I found, described in “Culinaria Germany”  It asks for the fish (whole, in the book) to be seasoned and lightly-floured, sauteéed on both sides at high heat in clarified butter (I used olive oil and butter in combination), removed to a buttered pan and placed in a 350º oven for 10 minutes covered by thin slices of ‘streaky bacon’ (I substituted Guanciale from Buon Italia), followed for another 10 minutes with the addition of a small finely-chopped yellow onion from a friend with a garden in Garrison, New York, sprigs of thyme (I substituted fresh fennel seed this time) and white wine, after that the “bacon” is removed and the fish dotted w/butter, returned to the oven until the skin is crispy, and served with the cooking juices spooned over the fillet
• small boiled Norland Red new potatoes from Berried Treasures Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, finished with butter and parsley from Keith’s Farm
• yellow flat pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm, blanched, drained and dried, then reheated in a little butter, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• the wine was a German (Pfalz) white, Becker Family Pinot Blanc, 2013, which Appellation Wines was kind enough to special order for us when we asked, having enjoyed it very much at our local excellent ‘Swiss brasserie’, Trestle on Tenth
• the music was Mahler’s 6th symphony, Valery Gergiev conducting the London Symphony Orchestra