scallops, onion bud; purple potatoes, dill; red stem spinach

I used to think it was autumn that was the most blessed season for vegetables, but moving through the unfolding surprises of spring, especially since they follow a season that has to be described as semi desert, I might have to reconsider that thought.

Onion buds, for starters, and there will be more of that sort of thing coming up.

  • twelve sea scallops (12 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, dried very thoroughly with paper towels, seasoned with local sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, briefly grilled (90 seconds on each side) in a medium size square enameled cast iron pan, finished with a squeeze of juice from a Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon, then a scattering of a fabulous spring treat, the tiny bursting seeds inside a blossoming onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and a drizzle of olive oil

  • fifteen ounces of Magic Molly purple potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Pyrex glass pot, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, garnished with chopped dill from Stokes Farm

steak, chicory; roasted potatoes, spruce; purple sprouting

Steak. It takes all kinds. In the past I have generally favored cooking the kinds generally favored by others, with a very few exceptions for unusual cuts, but I honestly think it’s out of a preference for the neatness of a steak, both in its appearance on the plate and in the slicing of it. For these and for other reasons, like tenderness, which is absolutely not a priority for us, this means the cuts that are the most expensive.

I’ve been learning about some of the alternatives.

If it’s going to be about taste, there will have to be some side trips, with rewards well beyond the cost savings.

On Saturday it was time for a chuck steak. Actually the nomenclature, if not the cut itself, was a little more complicated than the familiar, often snubbed cut that the name suggests. It was a ‘boneless top blade steak’, something like a flat iron steak. That afternoon at our neighborhood Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, I purchased the last piece of meat, of any kind, that Christopher Novak of Abundance Acres Farm had left. We discussed the cut (unfortunately most of what I thought I was learning at the time I’ve since forgotten, but I was impressed, enough that, although I didn’t really have to buy anything that day, I went home with a large steak (s’okay, there were no smaller ones).

I was told it was perfectly alright to cook it more or less dry, almost like any other steak. I checked on line, and was reassured, by this site and a few others.

  • one 20-ounce Hereford-Angus breed boneless top blade steak from Abundance Acres Farm, located in South Arabia (don’t bother trying to Google ‘South Arabia’), Montgomery County, New York State, 5 miles north of the Mohawk River and 5 miles south of the foothills of the Adirondacks, at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, which is set up on Saturdays one block east of us in the spring through the fall, defrosted, brought to room temperature, both sides sprinkled generously with sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, one chopped spring garlic clove from Michisk’s Farm in Flemington, NJ, and a squeeze of juice from a Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon, placed inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan already made hot over moderately high heat, in half a tablespoon of butter, a little less olive oil, and 2 whole cloves of the same garlic, sautéed 2 to 3 minutes on each side, or an internal temperature of 120-130º [because of the nature of the cut, it might be advisable to extend the cooking time, but only a bit, to come closer to ‘rare’], more lemon juice squeezed onto the steak just before it was removed from the heat, when it was allowed to rest, lightly covered, for at least 4 minutes before being transferred to the plate on top of a bed of leaves from one small head of radicchio (‘Italian chicory’), probably a variegata radicchio di lusia from Eckerton Hill Farm

  • twelve ounces of small red thumb fingerlings from Tamarack Hollow Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch of powdered home-dried habanada pepper, placed cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 375º for 20 minutes or so, arranged on the plates, cut spruce tops from Violet Hill Farm sprinkled on top

  • about 10 ounces of purple sprouting broccoli from Campo Rosso Farm washed and drained a couple of times in fresh cold water, chopped roughly, sautéed or wilted over a low flame until the stems had softened by gradually being added to a heavy medium size antique copper pot in which one large chopped Michisk’s Farm spring garlic clove had first been heated until it had softened and become fragrant, seasoned with salt and black pepper and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the wine was a red (Côtes du Rhône) red, Jean-Louis Grande Réserve 2017, the gift of our friends Robert and Andrei, visiting from Berlin
  • the music was the album, ‘Hilda Paredes: Señales’, with the Ensemble Signal

almost a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs

I think our breakfast plates actually are looking a little more minimal lately.  While this may be a desirable trend, the downside is that I might begin to lose interest in cooking eggs for breakfast if I leave little room for my imagination.

The picture below probably includes everything seen on the plate in the first one, except for the bacon, eggs and toast themselves. I snapped it for my own use, to record what was included, and so be able to write this post more easily; only much later did I decide to include it in this post.

  • the ingredients included 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens and 4 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, all from Pennsylvania’s Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, the eggs, while they were being fried, seasoned with a newly-introduced local Long Island sea salt (P.E. & D.D. Seafood/Phil Karlin’s own), freshly ground black pepper, and a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk, sprinkled with dill from Stokes Farm; 8 very ripe tomatoes, ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, heated gently in a small enamel-lined cast iron porringer then rolled in a French sea salt, pepper, and thin slices of scapes from Cherry Lane Farms, sprinkled with some cut spruce tips from Violet Hill Farm; a garnish of micro purple radish from Windfall Farms; and toasts of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (simply ‘Redeemer wheat’, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co.
  • the music was assembled after my own heart, to use an expression common while I was growing up but which I didn’t quite understand until after it had virtually disappeared, the album, ‘Venecie mundi splendor: Marvels of Medieval Venice’ (“Newly recorded in the bright acoustic of the Cenacolo of San Giorgio Maggiore Monastery in Venice, La Reverdie brings together, for the first time, musical compositions written c. 1330-1430 in honor of the Venetian Doges, or Venice itself.” – excerpted notes from the album)

mussels, lovage, chili, wine, tomatoes, shallot; seedy bread

Ahhhh.

Even if for some reason the mussels themselves were claimed by another, the diner who got the the soup would be the winner. There’s nothing like mussel broth. Nothing.

Before the dinner itself we enjoyed a refreshing, fascinating natural wine with some breadsticks from Buon Italia.

The main, and only, course consisted of local mussels and the things that were enjoyed with them. The image below is of the inside of the pot before the bivalves were added, and just before the butter had completely melted.

In a dish like this the vegetables are clearly as important as the mussels, and here all were excellent, and from local farms.

  • a little more than two and a half pounds of mussels, purchased from Pura Vida Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket early that afternoon, scrubbed, and de-bearded where necessary, combined in a large heavy enameled pot (a ‘dutch oven’ in fact) with over two cups of halved cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm that are appropriately named, ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’, a little more than half a cup of a good white wine, a Rhône/Costières de Nîmes) white, Château Saint-Cyrgues Costieres de Nîmes Blanc 2017, a few tablespoons of chopped ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm, 4 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, about a quarter of a teaspoon of crushed Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, and a few tablespoons of some coarsely-chopped lovage from from Keith’s Farm, the pot then covered and its contents simply steamed over high heat for a few minutes, arranged in shallow bowls, along with the wonderful pot liquor, and sprinkled with a little more lovage
  • the wine was a French (Rhône/Costières de Nîmes) white, Château Saint-Cyrgues Costieres de Nîmes Blanc 2017, from Copake Wine Works

 

bocconcini; sunchoke fusilli, garlic scapes, chilis, olives, dill

I think of the fairly simple pasta courses I scatter between more serious or composed meat and fish entrées as something like ‘intervals’ between acts, but they’re usually at least as satisfying as what would normally be called more main event dinners.

As this one was.

There was also a simple antipasto this time.

  • five bocconcini, from Flatiron Eataly, divided onto 2 oval plates, that had already been mixed with olive oil, crushed dried red pepper, dried oregano, and dried basil (I don’t know why I didn’t buy the plain version and season it myself, unless I was thinking of how I used to buy them regularly in the 80’s and early 90’s from a shop in Little Italy, Piemonte Ravioli)
  • slices of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (hard red redeemer winter wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co. out of Philadelphia, via the Union Square Greenmarket
  • the wine for the first course, purchased at Foragers, was a Spanish (Castilla-La Mancha) white, a verdejo, Friend and Farmer White Wine, from Foragers Market Wine

The main, or second course was almost as straightforward.

  • two broadly sliced garlic scapes from Eckerton Hill Farm, plus a bit of crushed smoked dried jalapeño pepper, also from Eckerton, and a pinch of dried habanada, all heated in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until the garlic had softened, before 8 ounces of a locally-sourced and locally-produced artisanal pasta, a ‘Jerusalem Artichoke Fusilli’ from Norwich Meadows Farm which incorporates their own sunchokes (the name I like to us when I can, since neither Jerusalem nor the artichoke has anything to do this these native American tubers), cooked only until al dente, then drained, and tossed into the pot along with almost a cup of the reserved cooking water, where the pasta was stirred over high flame until the liquid had emulsified, a handful of pitted Greek kalamata olives added to the mix before some of the pasta was divided into 2 shallow bowls where some chopped fresh dill from Stokes Farm was scattered over the top, finished with some homemade breadcrumbs, mixed with a little salt, that had been toasted in a small cast iron skillet
  • the wine for the second course was a New York (Hudson River) red, Cabernet Franc – Bruynswick Vineyard, 2017, from Wild Arc Farm

 

herb-marinated weakfish; asparagus, mint; rhubarb biscuit

Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’ or Sea/Ocean Trout). I’ve written it before: We love this fish.

It’s a noble fish, but it’s not a trout. It’s generally marketed as ‘ocean trout’, I suppose because ‘weakfish’ doesn’t present a positive image. In fact the ‘weak’ part is only because the fish’s jaw tears apart easily when it is hooked (ouch), meaning it can more easily escape from an angler, the people who pass out the names, sometimes with less than fairness.

I seem to have prepared it 4 or 5 times, in several very different sizes. I’ve come to call it Squeteague, (except when I have to squeeze a name into a headline) mostly because of my fondness for coastal New England and its Narragansett heritage in its south [in the Narragansett language: pesukwiteag, meaning ‘they give glue’, because glue is made from them (or was at one time)].

  • two 10-ounce squeteauge fillets (larger than our usual portions, but they don’t come to order) from American Seafood Company, marinated for a little over half an hour on the counter in a mix of a tablespoon or more of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, 2 or 3 sliced spring garlic cloves from Lani’s Farm, and only 2 herbs this time (I’ve used up to 11), chopped dill from Stokes Farm and a smaller amount of chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, after which the fillets were drained, sautéed or fried for almost 3 minutes inside a oil coated tin-lined heavy oval copper pan which had been pre-heated to medium-hot (enough oil to protect the tin lining while the pan heated up), skin-slide down first, then turned and cooked for another minute or 2, arranged on the plates, the juices, mixed in the pan with some of the marinade, drizzled on top
  • three Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, their cut sides sprinkled with salt and pepper, heated inside an antique enameled cast iron porringer, turning once, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Keith’s Farm and drizzled with the juices that remained in the porringer
  • less than a pound of medium thickness asparagus (before trimming), 20 altogether, a mix bunch from Hoeffner Farms and John D. Madura Farms, their bottoms snapped off at the point where they easily break, rolled in a tablespoon of butter and less than a tablespoon of olive oil inside a heated large enameled rectangular cast iron pan, then sautéed over medium high heat while frequently rolling or turning them until they were beginning to brown (about 15 minutes), finished with a sprinkling of local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, sprinkled with zest from most of an entire Whole Foods Market organic lemon and some chopped furry spearmint from Space on Ryder Farm
  • the wine was a delightful and extraordinary original from New York (Hudson River) orange, using traminette grapes, the unfined and unfiltered ‘Luca’ Skin Contact Traminette, 2017, that we had bought directly from the vintner

There was a sweet.

  • one halved quite brilliant treat, a ‘shortcake’ from Lost Bread Co., their last ‘hominy biscuit’ at the stand that day (the ingredients are organic bread flour, butter, milk, purple corn, wheat , baking powder, baking soda, slaked lime, sea salt, sugar), topped with dollops of Talenti Madagascar Vanilla Gelato from Whole Foods, and drizzled with ambrosia: a homemade rhubarb-cardamon seed-star anise compote made with tiny (1/3 to 1/2-inch thick) early (late winter?) rhubarb stems from Hoeffner Farms
  • the wine was Blandy’s 5 year old Bual Madeira

 

rigatoni with spring alliums, lemon, radicchio, pinoli, mint

It was light and delicious, a bit like the weather itself last night.

Also pretty, and even before I started cooking.

  • a mix of 3 small ramp bulbs that had made it this far through the spring carefully tended inside the refrigerator crisper, and short sections of spring garlic bulb from Lani’s Farm, plus one whole dried peperoncini Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia heated over a low flame in a tablespoon or so of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil inside a large, heavy, antique high-sided copper pan, stirring until the allium had softened, the zest and some of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods mixed in, followed by 8 or 9 ounces of Setaro Torre Annunziata Napoli Penne Rigatoni from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, cooked al dente and drained, along with most of a cup of its cooking water that had been reserved, continuing to stir the mix over a moderate to high flame until the liquid had emulsified, seasoned with sea salt, then, after the heat was turned off, 2 handfuls of roughly chopped one small beautiful head of radicchio (possibly a variegata radicchio di lusia, or, less likely, a variegata radicchio di chioggia) from Eckerton Hill Farm, the pasta arranged in shallow bowls, some toasted pine nuts, or pinoli, also from Buon Italia, tossed on top, finished with a bit of olive oil drizzled around the outside of the pasta, garnished with torn furry spearmint leaves from Space on Ryder Farm

We had a cheese course, something not seen around here lately, but it was a light and delicious cheese course.

  • an intense, slowly maturing ‘Mammuth’ Camembert-style goat milk cheese from Ardith Mae Farmstead Cheese
  • lightly-toasted slices of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co., out of Philadelphia, but, fortunately for us, sold in the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesdays and Fridays

 

tautog, olives, tomatoes, herb; boiled new potatoes, agretti

If the fish itself looks a little different than it did the last time I cooked it this same way (it seems ‘peppered’ with dark red spots), I’m thinking the difference is that I actually had Aleppo pepper this time (Morton & Bassett dried, from Westside Market), while I’d always had to use a substitute of some balance of fine cayenne pepper and a dulce paprika.

The potatoes we had are a rarity, I think, or at least they are to me, a combination of Adirondack blue and red ‘new potatoes’ [new potatoes, are immature potatoes that have been harvested by pulling out the young tubers by hand, leaving the plant itself in place]. The colors are not dramatically different, especially once cooked, but what difference they exhibit does make for some extra subtle interest, especially with a green garnish.

Before deciding on the vegetable, I had briefly thought of using the agretti I had in the refrigerator, so it made sense to me to use a small amount of this interesting saltwort as a garnish for the tubers.

  • two blackfish (tautog) fillets (17 ounces total) from Pura Vida Fisheries [prepared mostly following a recipe by Melissa Clark published in the New York Times almost 7 years ago, placed in a large heavy oval copper skillet over a medium-low flame, a quarter cup of pitted kalamata olives from Chelsea Whole Foods scattered around the fish, cooked for about 4 minutes, flipped and cooked for another 4 minutes, then, near the end of that time, roughly 10 ounces of quartered Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’, also from Whole Foods, were tossed into the pan, moved around a bit and allowed to break down, the fish and the olives transferred to 2 plates when done, the tomatoes spooned around the fillets, everything sprinkled with a torn mild furry spearmint from Space on Ryder Farm and fresh torn basil from a plant I had bought, I think, from Central Valley Farm in the Greenmarket

breakfast, almost simple, and whispers of a sub-continent

I was going to make it minimal, but I couldn’t quite see the concept through to the end.

  • Sunday’s breakfast included the usual fresh eggs from pastured chickens and bacon from pastured pigs, all from Pennsylvania’s Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, the fried eggs seasoned with local Long Island sea salt (P.E. & D.D. Seafood/Phil Karlin’s own), a freshly ground mix of black pepper and other seeds or spices that had been accidentally combined when I was preparing a dry marinade for a pork belly a while back, then decided to hold onto the remainder (black pepper, fennel seeds cumin seeds, coriander seeds, star anise, white peppercorns, and whole clove) for future use, sprinkled with lovage from Keith’s Farm, 5 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods that had been heated gently in a small enamel-lined cast iron porringer, then sprinkled with a pinch dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market last fall), a small bunch of watercress from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, dressed with a good olive oil, Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, local salt, freshly ground pepper, and thin slices, not toasted, of a really hearty bread, ‘Seedy Grains’ from Lost Bread Company (wheat, spelt, rye, barley, organ bread buckwheat, oats, seeds [flax, sesame, sunflower, pumpkin], water, and salt)
  • the music was the Living Media India Limited album, ‘Afternoon Ragas – Volume 1’ (we sat down to breakfast just after noon.

steak, savory; mushrooms, spruce tips; broccolini (3 allium)

It was Barry‘s birthday, so the meal would have to be special (for me, they’re all special, if only for the wonderful company, but some ingredients may be more special than others). Because it was a Saturday night, when so many New Yorkers are searching for the right dinner table, we thought ‘special’ and right would mean dinner at home. Because we would be coming home from the opera, I wouldn’t be able to begin preparations until it was nearly ten o’clock in the evening (late even for us). Because it would take so little time, and because culotte steak is always special, the night before I had defrosted one we had on hand in the freezer.

Because it was his birthday, and because the kitchen boasted so many choices, I asked Barry to decide on which we’d have.

There was still time for snacks (breadsticks from Buon Italia) and a celebratory sort-of-sparkling (well, a little fizzy maybe, and delicious) wine before the main course.

And then to a main course, which is as far as we got that night.

  • picanha/culotte steak from Sun Fed Beef in the Union Square Greenmarket, defrosted, brought to room temperature, halved, 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 they had become perfectly medium-rare (checking with an instant-read thermometer), arranged on plates that were at least not cold, a bit of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed on top, a little bit of thinly sliced red spring onions from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm that had been heated in an antique enameled cast iron porringer to soften them, then scattered with chopped fresh winter savory from Keith’s Farm, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, and allowed to rest for about 4 more minutes before being served

  • just before the steaks went into the pan, 4 ounces of small nutty and much-more-delicious-than-you-can-imagine ‘chestnut mushrooms’ from Josh Carnes of Ramble Creek Farm in Washington County, purchased in the Union Square Greenmarket, were tossed (the larger stems cut in half) into a broad heavy copper skillet in which 2 or 3 tablespoons  of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil had been heated over a high flame, the fungi seared until they had begun to brown, a little more oil added if necessary, a pinch or so of dried habanada pepper and 3 small sliced fresh green, or spring, garlic cloves from Lani’s Farm stirred in, the mushrooms now salted as they cooked a bit more, and when they were ready, some foraged spruce tips from Violet Hill Farm tossed in and combined with the mushrooms, the mix then distributed between the 2 plates next to the steak, with more tips tossed on top

  • a generous bag of broccolini (a hybrid cross between broccoli and gai lan (aka Chinese broccoli) from Alewife Farm, washed and drained a couple of times in fresh cold water, chopped roughly, sautéed/wilted over a low flame until the stems had softened by gradually being added to a heavy medium size antique copper pot in which 6 ramp bulbs (they last longer than you’d expect) had first been heated until they had softened themselves and become fragrant, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper ad drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the wine was a Spanish (Castilla Y Leon) red, Ribera del Duero ‘LosCntos’, Finca Torremilanos, from Foragers Market Wine
  • the music was David Lang’s album, ‘The Woodmans’, because we can’t get enough of David Lang