We hadn’t enjoyed any seafood in days, an unusual dry spell for us. Normally we would have had some on Monday, but the fisher people from Eastern Long Island who are normally there that day, didn’t make it, like almost every other producer, because of the severe cold and wind.

So It seemed like a good night for wild salmon, whose availability in East Coast markets does not depend on good weather (sold fresh during part of the year, or frozen in the months when fishing is proscribed) nor does it’s enjoyment. In fact, with the right seasonings and the right accompaniments, it pairs very well with even the coldest, most blustery winter weather.

The recipe I used, which I’ve borrowed over and over again, with few alterations, but sometimes with an embellishment or two, came originally from Katy Sparks, via Mark Bittman, and it’s a little more precise than my description that appears below.

• one 18-ounce fillet of wild Pacific coho salmon (previously frozen, because of the season) from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, its skin carefully peeled off on top of the kitchen counter, halved, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, the former skin side pressed with a mixture of roughly ground coriander seeds, cloves, and cumin seed, and some grated nutmeg, that side placed onto the surface of an enameled, oval cast iron pan in a mix of a little olive oil and butter that had already been heated over medium-high heat until the fat had shimmered, sautéed for only 2 or 3 minutes, then turned over and cooked for another 2 or 3 minutes, arranged on the plates and garnished with a little micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• three different kinds of potatoes that I already on hand, but none of them would have been sufficient in quantity to serve as a side by itself, all unpeeled, scrubbed and cut into approximately 3/4″ pieces (one large Kennebec potato from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, which turned out to be a natural for this roasting treatment; one large Japanese sweet potato from Race Farm; and 2 medium-size ‘Magic Marley’ purple fingerlings from Norwich Meadows Farm, plus 2 large halved ‘yellow shallots’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, all tossed together in a bowl with less than two tablespoons of olive oil; sea salt; freshly-ground black pepper; one crushed piece of a mahogany-colored home-dried dark, dried heatless Habanada pepper acquired 2 summers before as fresh peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm; a really tiny dusting of a dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm; and the leaves from several sprigs of rosemary from Eataly, everything arranged, without touching, on a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted in a 400º oven for about 35 minutes, then sprinkled with 2 sliced garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm, and some small fresh-but-drying-out sage leaves from Philipps Farms and shoveled around a bit with a spatula, removed, divided onto 2 plates

• a couple handfuls of arugula from Philipps Farms, dressed with a small drizzle of a house Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market, Maldon salt, black pepper, and a few drops of a Napa Valley red wine (‘Chianti’) vinegar
• the wine was a wonderful French (Burgundy/Beaujolais) red, Domaine des Cotes de la Moliere Moulin a Vent 2014, from Copake Wine Works
• the music was Wagner’s first completed opera (unperformed in his lifetime), finished in 1833 when he was 20, ‘Die Feen’, Wolfgang Sawallisch conducting the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Bavarian Radio Chorus, with June Anderson, Linda Esther-Gray, Krisztina Láki, Kari Lövaas, Cheryl Studer, John Alexander, Friedrich Lenz, Norbert Orth, Roland Hermann, Roland Bracht, Kurt Moll, and Jan-Hendrik Rootering (Having heard the opera at least once before, but not this particular performance, we were surprised to find that ‘Die Feen’ wasn’t bad Wagner, which is pretty good; the quality of this performance certainly contributed to its success.)

It was a holiday.

And there was game. Although venison is hardly what comes to mind on the day when the memory of Martin Luther King Jr. is especially abroad in the land, last night we celebrated the birthday of the great man partly with this very good meal.

It was especially good, especially on an extremely cold day.

• one venison steak (1.26 lbs/20 ounces) from Schaller & Weber, rinsed, brought to room temperature, dried, rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coating of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, set aside on the counter for more than 45 minutes, then placed over moderately high heat in 1 to 2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside a heavy oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan, cooked rare to medium rare, which meant little more than 2 minutes on one side, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, turned and cooked for another 2 minutes, cut into 2 pieces and transferred to warm plates, the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, 2 tablespoons of a decent brandy (Courvoisier V.O. last night) added to the pan and cooked over high heat briefly, or until almost a syrup, the sauce poured over the meat, which was then garnished with thyme

• thirteen ounces of ruby crescent potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, the leaves from some stems of rosemary from Whole Foods Market, and a small amount of crushed golden home-dried habanada pepper, arranged cut side down on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, with half of a fresh sage leaf from Chelsea Whole Foods Market perched on the top of  each, roasted at about 400º for about 20 minutes

• a little duck fat heated above a medium-high flame inside a large antique high-sided copper pot, adding one finely-sliced 17-ounce red cabbage from Race Farm and several small roughly-chopped ‘yellow shallots’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, stirring regularly until the cabbage had softened slightly (about 15 minutes), after that 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, less than 2 tablespoons of whole Foods Market lemon juice, and almost 2 teaspoons of local apple cider vinegar, also from Race Farm, were added, plus a sprinkling of freshly-ground black pepper, the heat reduced and the mixture cooked about 10 minutes more, or until the cabbage was wilted and the shallots softened, a teaspoon of turbinado sugar and a third of a cup of some excellent juicy mixed raisons from Chelsea Trader Joe’s added and mixed in, finished by stirring in some red current jelly

The cheese was German, picked to complement both the entrée and the weather. Tilsit is one of my favorite German cheeses, with a complicated history of its own, reflecting at least some of the vicissitudes of its birthplace.

• bits of a really good German Tilsit cheese from Schaller & Weber
• thin slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche

 

• the wine throughout the meal was an Italian (Piedmont) red, Castello di Verduno, Barolo ‘Massara’ 2013, from Flatiron Wines
• the choice of music was the only overt link to the holiday, an album from Naxos Direct, of music by a remarkable African-American composer who had almost disappeared before a collection of her works and papers were discovered in an abandoned and dilapidated house that had once been her summer home, Florence Beatrice Price, ‘Price: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4’

Sunday pasta, winter variant.

Thanks to the radish.

• six or seven ounces of French breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farms cooked inside a large antique copper pot in a little butter and olive oil over a medium-high flame until they were tender but still retained some bite, removed and reserved, then 6 or 7 sliced tiny Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm added and heated until fragrant and mostly softened, along with a small amount of dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, the washed and drained tender radish greens stirred in (where they wilted almost immediately), followed by 8 ounces of a really great local pasta, Sfoglini’s whole grain reginetti, cooked until only barely al dente, along with much of a cup of reserved pasta cooking water, the mix stirred constantly until the liquid had emulsified, the radishes returned to the pot, and a tablespoon or more of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods lemon and a fairly generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper tossed in, the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, sprinkled with toasted fresh breadcrumbs (half a cup of Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Company’s ‘table bread’, which is available at the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesdays, toasted until golden in 3 tablespoons of olive oil, with a teaspoon of lemon zest and half a teaspoon of red pepper flakes mixed in after)
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia/Ogliastra), white, Cardedu, Vermentino di Sardegna ‘Nuo’ 2016, from Flatiron Wines [more about the wine here]
• the music was Verdi’s 1859 tragic opera, ‘Un Ballo In Maschera’, Georg Solti conducting the National Philharmonic Orchestra, with a cast including Luciano Pavarotti, Kathleen Battle, Margaret Price, and Christa Ludwig 

The quail may have been domesticated, but it still tastes wild, which is a very good thing.

It’s one of our favorite entrées, even if it doesn’t appear on our table very often. It only showed up this time because, while looking for something else inside the packaged meat case in La Macelleria at Eataly Flatiron, I spotted a bag with 4 unfrozen partially-deboned quail.

• four partially-boned (a tweak which is always a treat for cooks and diners) farmed quail, weighing just over one pound together, from Pat Lafrieda, via Eataly’s La Macelleria, rinsed, dried on paper towels and rubbed with sea salt and a judicious amount of crumbled dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, placed breast-side-down over medium-high flames on top of a heavy 2-burner seasoned cast iron ribbed pan, a number of sprigs of fresh local Goodness Gardens thyme from Chelsea Whole Foods Market scattered over each, grilled for about 5 minutes, then turned over and, ensuring that they were now resting on top of the thyme, grilled for another 5 or 6 minutes, served on the plates with a squeeze of a local lemon, a very sweet small fruit from one of the greenhouses of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island in the Union Square Greenmarket, and a drizzle of olive oil

• one 5-inch white pumpkin squash from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, halved vertically, the seeds and pith removed, cut into wedges averaging a half inch thick on the outside end and mixed by hand inside a large bowl with a relatively small amount of olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and pieces of crushed dried habanada pepper, arranged in one layer on a large, unglazed, well-seasoned Pampered Chef ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for 25 minutes or so, removed from the oven and transferred to a large heavy high-sided copper pot in which 6 or 7 very small crushed cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic and more than a dozen sage leaves from Whole Foods Market Chelsea had been gently heated in a bit of olive oil, the squash gently mixed in with a wooden spatula

• a portion of one Savoy cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm (a remainder from the 2 heads used in the previous day’s meal), sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a heavy medium-size tin-lined copper pot until wilted but still a little crunchy, stirring occasionally, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, 5 or 6 slightly smashed juniper berries mixed in, a few tiny drops of balsamic vinegar added and the mix stirred over the heat for only a moment, arranged on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a super – if the phrase can be excused in this context – Italian (Tuscany) red, something of a maverick, Argiano Non Confunditur 2015, the gift of a Berlin friend who had been a guest for dinner on an earlier occasion
• the music was the extraordinarily beautiful 2014 ECM album, ‘Harrison Birtwistle: Chamber Music’ 

We were entertaining guests from Berlin, one of whom hadn’t been to our apartment for dinner before, at least while we were there (we had exchanged apartments for a month). Neither meat nor pasta could be on the menu. I wanted to serve something which we would all appreciate, and which also would allow me to be a part of the conversation even as I was cooking.

The monkfish looked terrific at the market that afternoon, and I had a great Mark Bittman recipe which by this point I could process blindfolded. Unfortunately the ‘tails’ (the term almost always used to describe monkfish bodies, probably because their heads are disproportionately huge and pretty horrific in appearance), were larger, and, more importantly, much thicker than any I had worked with before, their cooking time was way longer than what I had anticipated. Luckily the potatoes were very forgiving about having to endure a longer stay in the oven, and the meal actually turned out well. 

I did end up learning a couple of useful lessons because of the delay: Consider carefully the surprising  mathematics of ingredient sizes, and buy smaller monkfish the next time.

We hung out in the breakfast room (the dining room that evening) nibbling on our archetypal small spread of breadsticks, roasted chick peas, and Fiori di Puglia Taralli al Peperoncino, all from Buon Italia.

• the wine was a really good Italian (Veneto) sparkling, Sommariva, Prosecco di Conegliano Brut, NV, from Flatiron Wines

There was a bit of an interval before we sat down for the main course, for the reason recounted above.

• an overflowing cup of a mix of black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia and a few kalamata olives from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, all pits removed, spread on top of a bed of 3 large (8-ounce) scrubbed and thinly-sliced Kennebec potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, the slices slightly overlapping inside an enameled cast iron oven pan after the potatoes had first been seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sprinkled with a bit of crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper, and topped with 17 dry Italian bay leaves, roasted in a very generous amount of olive oil (a third to half of a cup) inside a 400º oven for about 20 or 25 minutes, depending on the potato variety and their thickness, reversing the direction of the pan inside the oven halfway through, then 2 monkfish tails, each weighing a full pound, from Pura Vida Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed on top of the potatoes, roasted at the same temperature for, maybe, 20 minutes [I lost track of how long the monkfish cooked this time, so I couldn’t include the precise timing in this text], arranged on 2 plates and garnished with micro red chard from two Guys from Woodbridge

• most of 2 beautiful small-to-medium Savoy cabbages from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, quartered, cored, sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pot until wilted but still crunchy, stirring occasionally, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, a teaspoon and a half of just-toasted cumin seed mixed in, finished with a third to half of a teaspoon of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, the mix stirred and cooked another couple of minutes (the cabbage was also patient about the delay in cooking the monkfish)
• the wine was a really wonderful Spanish (Priorat) white, Priorat Blanco, Mas La Mola 2016, the generous gift of our guests

The cheese course, unusually, had a little bit of everything: In addition to the 4 cheeses, there was bread, dried and fresh fruit, a micro green, and a good wine, so we lingered, also maybe a bit longer than usual.

• four cheeses: an unnamed washed rind buffalo milk cheese, like a Munster or havarti, a new cheese from Riverine Ranch, now in the process of development; Manchester goat cheese, Danby goat cheese, and Bardem Blue cow cheese all from Consider Bardwell Farm
• a garnish of micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• thin slices of an excellent crusty ‘table bread’ from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Company
• bosc and bartlett pears from Locust Grove Fruit Farm
• dried Calabrian (Amantea) figs from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market
• the wine was a Spanish (Galicia) white, Bodegas Avancia, Godello ‘Cuvee De O’ 2016, from Flatiron Wines

 

• the music throughout was our conversation, at one point including a discussion of our love for Mexico, which suggested playing the album, ‘Mexico: Fiestas of Chiapas and Oaxaca‘

I’ve found it impossible to serve anything but a delicious meal when I use one of Sfoglini‘s local artisanal pastas.

While they each have great individual flavors of their own, they can also be canvases inviting a cook to be as creative as possible with whatever might be in the kitchen, and sometimes the smallest additions can be the most effective.

These packages (half of a box is enough for an entrée serving 2 people) are also among the easiest and least expensive entrées of any kind to prepare, although, especially with the simplest additions, in smaller portions, they are also perfect as appetizers.

• eight ounces of Sfoglini emmer reginetti (organic emmer flour, organic durum semolina flour, water), also known as mafaldine, or ‘little queens’, from the Greenmarket Regional Grains Project in the Union Square Greenmarket, cooked barely al dente, some of the water reserved, drained, added to a large high-sided antique copper pot in which a sliced medium Camelot shallot from Quarton Farm and the chopped stem sections of a few small celery stalks from Philipps Farms had been heated in a little olive oil over a medium flame until they had softened and become fragrant, a dozen or so pitted and halved Gaeta olives from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market and a pinch of gorgeous (dried) hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm added, generously seasoned with freshly-ground black pepper, the mix stirred over high heat, along with almost 3 quarters of a cup of reserved pasta water, for a minute or so, or until the liquid had emulsified, some of the roughly-chopped celery leaves mixed in, arranged inside shallow bowls, sprinkled with some lightly-toasted pine nuts, also from Buon Italia, garnished with purple micro radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges

There was a small cheese course with a big cheese.

• another excellent new cheese from Riverine Ranch: lightly-washed-rind buffalo milk semi soft cheese, without a name, described by Brian, the cheesemaker, as like a Munster or havarti, and in development, which probably means this particular wheel is a one-off
• thin slices of a great treat from an interesting Philadelphia bakery new to the Union Square Greenmarket, and to us, ‘Table Bread’ from Lost Bread Company

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Chianti) red, Farnetella, Chianti Colli Senesi 2015, from Flatiron Wines
• the music throughout was Donizetti’s 1840 opéra comique, ‘La Fille Du Régiment’ Richard Bonynge conducting the Royal Opera House Covent Garden Orchestra and the Royal Opera House Covent Garden Chorus, with Joan Sutherland and Luciano Pavarotti

The aura of New England cod.

I think I’ve understood its emanation since at least the time I was cramming for a family trip to New England in the early 50’s, so when Glen Bickleman told me that the bucket of cod fillets he was displaying in his fish stall, caught out of eastern Long Island ports, were “whale cod”, my imagination went a little wild. I had thoughts of New England fishermen conjuring some heroic finned giant, a legend with which I was not familiar (since the mid-80’s, when I moved to New York from Rhode Island, I’ve thought of eastern Long Island as very much a part of the culture of New England).

Checking out the name on line once I was back home, I was only slightly disappointed to learn that it referred to a real phenomenon: “Old timers talk of the mythic “whale cod,” huge fish, as long as a man is tall, that [returned] every Thanksgiving for fishermen to load into trailer trucks bound for Fulton Fish Market in New York.”, reads one reference to the phrase.

More evidence of the scale of the giant real cod can be found in the entry on Wikipedia for the sculpture that hangs inside the House of Represen­ta­tives chamber of Boston’s State House‍: “The Sacred Cod is a four-foot eleven-inch carved-wood effigy of an Atlantic codfish, ‘painted to the life’…’ (it’s significance is analogous to that of the wool sack in the House of Lords).

Glen may have been exaggerating a little yesterday, but we should remember that fishermen used to be shorter.

The dinner itself began with some unusual potatoes. They weren’t chosen for their color, but for the fact they were the only ones I had that were of both a suitable size and number.

The potatoes were cooked first, but not quite all of the way; the cod fillet, divided into 2 sections, and the sliced tomatoes were then placed on top and the pan returned to the oven.

These potatoes are pretty spectacular.

Over the years these almost-local Maine tomatoes have become an occasional kitchen mainstay [sorry about that one] for me through the relative dessert of New York winters.

I’ve learned, again, over many years, just how incredibly diverse even some of the vegetables with which we’d grown up assuming they had almost no variety can be. Although I certainly didn’t grow up with it in mid-century Detroit, I’m very fond of broccoli rabe, and I know that it comes in many forms, like so many other edible plants local farmers are bringing to markets these days.

• one ‘whale cod’ fillet (in this case meaning an almost 19-ounce fillet from a particularly large cod) from American Seafood Company in Wednesday’s Union Square Greenmarket, washed and rinsed, halved crosswise, placed inside a deep platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the pieces were completely covered, then set aside while a bed of potatoes was prepared by slicing lengthwise (to a thickness of roughly 1/4″) 12 ounces or so of ‘Magic Molly’ purple fingerlings from Norwich Meadows Farm, tossing them in a large bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a large section of an orange/gold home-dried habanada pepper, arranging the potatoes, slightly overlapping, inside a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan, and cooking them for roughly 25 minutes in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced, but not quite fully cooked, then, the cod fillets, having already been removed from the platter and their salt covering and thoroughly immersed in many fresh changes of water to bring down the saltiness (the soaking process also somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while it’s being handled it at this point; it’s pretty sexy), drained and dried, were placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzled with a little olive oil, sprinkled with some freshly-ground black pepper, partly blanketed with thin slices of 3 Backyard Farms Maine ‘Cocktail tomatoes’, the tomato seasoned lightly and the pan returned to the oven for about 15 minutes, or until just cooked through, fillets and tomato removed with a spatula (2 spatulas ae better), along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought along with each piece, everything arranged on the plates as intact as possible, the remainder of the potatoes then added and the servings garnished with micro purple radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• one bunch of broccoli rabe (aka rapini, among other names) from Phillips Farms wilted in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which several medium rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been heated until slightly softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, divided between the 2 plates and drizzled with a little more olive oil
• the wine was a great Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was Verdi’s 1867/1886 grand opera, ‘Don Carlo’, Claudio Abbado conducting the Milan Teatro alla Scala Orchestra and the Milan Teatro alla Scala Chorus, with a great – and enormous – cast

Winter picnic.

Fried duck breast part 2.

I had bought more of Dolores Kalin’s wonderful smoked fish salad at the Greenmarket the day before, with no particular meal in mind at the time. Then, the next day, when I was looking around for something to fill out a menu in which slices of cold cooked duck breast would be featured, I drafted it into that meal almost immediately.

• a composed smoked fish salad from P.E. & D.D.Seafood, made by Dolores Karlin using various local white fish caught by Karl, her husband, spread very thickly on soft lightly-toasted slices of 12 grain bread from Bread Alone, purchased a few days earlier, but also in the Union Square Greenmarket
• sprays of an upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, dressed with Frankies 47 olive oil, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a squeeze of organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon
• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) white, Real Rubio Blanco, Rioja 2017, from Astor Wines

The small meat course was even more special than the fish, since we’ve never had ‘leftover’ duck breast before, and its presentation could be almost intensely minimal.

• one half of a cooked duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, that remained from the meal we had enjoyed the night before, brought to room temperature, sliced very thinly and arranged on the plates without any sauce or seasonings
• dollops of a house apricot mustard from Dixon Farmstand
• some absolutely delicious (January!) arugula from Philips Farms, dressed with salt, black pepper, olive oil, and drops of a good Spanish Rioja wine vinegar
• slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche
• the wine was a Spanish (Navarre) red, Verasol, Navarra Tinto Tempranillo-Garnacha 2014, from Flatiron Wines in Manhattan

I was prepared to set out a small third course, local cheese and fruit, but at this point or appetites had been sated.

• the music throughout the meal was Rossini’s 1820 romantic opera, ‘Maometto Secondo’, Claudio Scimone conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra and the Ambrosian Singers, with soloists Margarita Zimmermann, June Anderson, Ernesto Palacio, Samuel Ramey, and Laurence Dale

Practice.

I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing, even with the added complication of guests.

I had cooked everything that appears on this plate many times before, although with a little variation each time, but it still seems to me like an accomplishment that I hadn’t done anything ahead of time, that I started prep 20 minutes before our guest arrived, that I was totally relaxed throughout both the cooking and serving process, and that I had been able to engage in a 3-way conversation throughout. I think I have to credit An, our guest this time, with much of the smoothness of the process.

We started casually, with some breadsticks, roasted chick peas, and Fiori di Puglia Taralli al Peperoncino, all from Buon Italia.

• the wine was a Portuguese (Beira) sparkling rosé, Beira Extra Brut Rosé ‘3B’ Filipa Pato – 2017, from Astor Wines

We sat down to the first course less than an hour after our guest had arrived.

• two 15-ounce duck breasts from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty sides scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, then left standing, first inside the refrigerator and later for 45 minutes on the counter, pan-fried, fatty side down first inside a large round enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, turning once, draining the fat after the first few minutes and straining it to be used in cooking at another time, for a total of probably more than 10 minutes (I lost track when the 2 breasts didn’t seem to be cooking as fast as one does by itself, so I ended up using my new instant-read meat thermometer, removing the duck when the internal temperature read just over 155º, carryover cooking continuing to raise the temperature to 160° as it rested, bringing it to just under rare to medium rare when it was served), each of the breasts cut crosswise into 2 portions, one of the halves set aside, enclosed in plastic wrap and placed in the refrigerator for another day, the 2 other portions left sitting on warm plates for several minutes before being finished with a drizzle of some juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and a little Portuguese house olive oil, also from Whole Foods Market, garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• twenty ounces of Japanese sweet potatoes from Race Farm, unpeeled, but scrubbed pretty thoroughly, cut as french fries, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, 5 medium unpeeled Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic cloves and a couple pinches of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, roasted just above 400º in a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan for about 35 minutes, or until crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and chewy on the edges, garnished with chopped parsley from Philipps Farms

• two beautiful small heads of purple-tinged Savoy cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, quartered, cored, sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a large heavy, enameled cast iron pot until wilted but still a little crunchy, stirring occasionally, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, 8 or so slightly smashed juniper berries mixed in, a few drops of balsamic vinegar added and stirred over the heat for only a moment, the cabbage arranged on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil

• the wine with the duck was a Spanish (Rioja/Rioja Alavesa) red, C.V.N.E. Rioja Crianza Vina Real 2013, from Garnet Wines

There was a cheese course.

• three cheeses, Manchester and Danby goat cheeses, and Barden blue, a cow cheese, all from Consider Bardwell Farm
• a garnish of micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• slices of a mixed wheat baguette from She Wolf Bakery
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) white, ‘Trans Douro Express,’ Mateus Nicolau de Almeida, Douro  2015, from Astor Wines

 

• the music throughout the meal was this playlist Barry had assembled on Spotify

Our first weed pasta.

It was very good, even without the psychotropic stuff.

• eight ounces from a box of Sfoglini hemp reginetti, boiled until just before it would have become al dente, drained and tossed into a large antique high-sided copper pot in which 5 small Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, lightly smashed, and a few inches from a small stalk of celery from Philipps Farms, cut into thin sections, had been sautéed in a little olive oil until softened, the pasta mix stirred over a pretty high flame, along with at least half of a cup of reserved pasta water, until the liquid had emulsified, the chopped leaves from the celery stalk then tossed in and the reginetti served in shallow bowls, a couple handfuls of sunflower sprouts from Windfall Farms tossed around the edges, the pasta sprinkled with toasted rye breadcrumbs, a little olive drizzled on top of the sprouts
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Centopassi ‘Terre Rosse di Giabbascio’ Catarratto  2017, from Astor Wines
• the music was a 1990 recording of Rossini’s last opera, composed in 1829, fully 39 years before his death, ‘Guillaume Tell’, Lamberto Gardelli conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and the Ambrosian Opera Chorus, with Jocelyne Taillon, Gabriel Bacquier, Nicolai Gedda, Monserrat Caballé, Louis Hendrikx, Gwynne Howell, Kolos Kováts, Charles Burles, Leslie Fyson, Mady Mesplé, Nicholas Christou, and Riccardo Cassinelli