culotte, ramp butter; fennel seed-roasted carrots; sprouts

Size didn’t really matter.

Until the package had defrosted, there was no way to tell how many pieces of steak it contained, or, of course, how much each weighed. Those numbers aren’t all important however, at least until it’s time to put the dinner on the 2 plates, when questions of aesthetics and fair apportioning arise.

As it turned out, the package held 3 pieces of sirloin cap (aka coulotte/culotte/picanha), each a different size. We would be 2 at the table that evening, so my solution to ensure portion fairness was to cut them all into halves, and then juggle them to see that each trio weighed the same.

The steak was delicious, and we each had our (modest) fair share, so aesthetics be damned, although the presentation doesn’t look half bad in the picture above.

  • three pieces of sirloin cap steak from Sun Fed Beef in the Union Square Greenmarket, weighing approximately 13 ounces together, each divided into 2 pieces because they were all very different in weight, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared for less than a minute on the top, thick, fat-covered sides inside a dry oval enameled heavy cast iron pan, the 2 long sides cooked for 2 or 3 minutes each, then removed from the pan the moment they had become perfectly medium-rare and arranged on 2 warm plates, topped with a pat of ramp butter (a leftover, frozen, from some made for a much earlier meal), the steaks allowed to rest for about 3 minutes before being served

  • a generous mix of mostly red Kyoto carrots (pictured above) and some more familiar loose orange carrots of the same size, both from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, dried, sliced once lengthwise, rolled inside a large unglazed ceramic Pampered Chef oven pan with a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, more than half of a teaspoon of crushed Italian fennel seed, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, roasted at 400º for about 30 minutes, or until tender, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a few small Brussels sprouts from Migliorelli Farm, the last of a supply purchased late in December (Brussels sprouts are one more member of the terrific huge mustard family (Brassicaceae) that’s such a great boon for cooks in the winter), washed, trimmed pretty intensely by hand, and dried, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, and black pepper, plus a bit of dried  peperoncino Calabresi secchi, then roasted inside a small unglazed seasoned Pampered Chef pan, a medium size this time, until the sprouts were slightly brown and crisp on the outside

There was a cheese course.

  • two cheeses, an Ardith Mae Farmstead, Columbia County, NY, camembert-style using 2 milks (goat from their own farm and cow from that of a neighbor, Liz Baldwin’s Shunpike Dairy) and an Eastern Connecticut cows milk, Cato Corner Farm Dairyere Reserve (aged one year)
  • a garnish of micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • slices of a nutty whole wheat She Wolf Bakery miche from the bakers’ strand in the Union Square Greenmarket
  • dried Calabrian (Amantea) figs from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market

 

lemon/parsley-fried butterfish; tiny turnips, mustard greens

Sometimes I decide to cook something partly, maybe mostly, just because I want to see if I can, and to see what it’s like to cook something or to taste something I may not otherwise have a chance to experience.

Butterfish was like that the first time it appeared on our table; the second time it was a good friend.

Last night, just after the meal, I tweeted: “I get it: cooking – and eating – whole fish isn’t for the timid, but egads it’s so good (butterfish tonight)” This is James Wagner, and I approve this message.

  • four 5-ounce whole cleaned butterfish from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, drained, dried, 2 deep diagonal cuts made to each side before they were brushed with a mixture of olive oil, some zest and juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, chopped parsley from Salinas, California, via Eataly Flatiron, and some crushed dried red shishito pepper (with no heat) from Lani’s Farm, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper on both sides, dusted lightly with a local Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from The Blew family of Oak Grove Plantation in Pittstown, N.J., placed in 3 or 4 tablespoons of a mix of olive oil and butter inside a large seasoned oval 16″ steel pan that had been allowed to get very hot, over 2 burners, before the heat was turned down to low, and the fish sautéed  for about 3.5 minutes each side (it should turn a crispy golden brown), or until cooked through, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with more, fresh, chopped parsley

  • a few handfuls of tiny white Hakurei turnips from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, tossed in a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, the leaves off of 2 rosemary stems from Whole Foods Market Chelsea and 2 large crushed bay leaves from Westside Market, roasted on a seasoned medium-size Pampered Chef oven pan for 20 or 25 minutes at 400º, garnished on the plates with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

  • mustard greens (in mid-January!) from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which several small halved cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil

There was a cheese course, mostly because we had 2 cheeses exactly at their prime.

Because the 2 courses were so very different, there really should have been a sorbet before the cheese as a palate cleanser, but we had none, so we just sucked it up, so to speak.

  • two cheeses, an Ardith Mae camembert-style using 2 milks (goat from their own farm and cow from that of a neighbor) and a ‘Buvarti’ semi-hard water buffalo cheese from Riverine Ranch
  • slices of a 12 grain bread from Bread Alone in the Union Square Greenmarket

 

spaghettto alio e olio; formaggio di latte di bufala semidura

The idea was to go easy after a string of some pretty rich meals, and to serve an entrée early enough in the evening, and also light enough, for us to enjoy a really great new cheese I had bought in the Greenmarket the day before. For Barry it would be his first taste.

  • while the water was boiling for cooking 8 ounces of Afeltra sphagetto from Eataly in a very large vintage (providence: the Providence Biltmore Hotel 1975 closing sale) stainless pasta pot, 3 large garlic cloves, coarsely-chopped, were heated over a low-medium flame inside a large antique high-sided enameled copper pot until they had begun to soften and turn golden, 3 salted anchovies, rinsed thoroughly, filleted, and roughly chopped, added and stirred until they had broken up, followed by part of a dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, crushed, a tablespoon or two of roughly-chopped parsley from Salinas, California, via Eataly, and about a quarter cup of the pasta cooking water (while it was still boiling), the mix then allowed to simmer and reduce slightly while the pasta finished cooking (to be removed from the large pot before it had quite reached the point of al dente, drained, tossed into the copper pot with the sauce, and, the heat turned up slightly, its contents cooked, stirring, for another minute or two, the spaghetto arranged in 2 shallow bowls and another tablespoon or two of parsley sprinkled on top of each

A great cheese.

The cheese course was even more minimal, but also more of a revelation, since we’ve often enjoyed this simple emergency pasta, spaghettata di mezzanotte, or ‘bachelor’s salvation’, but we had never had this local cheese. We both agreed it was one of the best we’d ever had, anywhere.

 

broiled sea perch with scallion, anchovy; tomato; cabbage

It’s a beautiful fish

And it’s an absolutely delicious fish. Last night we enjoyed what may have been one of my most successful preparations ever, using a simple recipe I’ve become very fond of, on some very fresh fish.

It’s precisely however because I’m realizing how good this fish is without the addition of strong flavors, and because I know I’ve been in something of a rut, that I’m going to have to try even simpler recipes to showcase it in the future.

  • one pound of 6 red sea perch fillets (sometimes called ‘redfish’, but usually it’s ‘sea perch’ or ‘ocean perch’) from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, brushed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with about a teaspoon of chopped Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic, then seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and placed inside an enameled cast iron pan, broiled skin side up 4 or 5 inches from the flame for about 4 or 5 minutes, at which time the skin had a little crisp and the fish was cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which 2 salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, had been heated over a very low flame for about 5 minutes until the anchovies had fallen apart (this time it had just been prepared, but it could have been done a little earlier and kept warm while waiting for the fish to cook), the fillets finished on the plates with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, lemon wedges served on the side
  • six Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market sliced 1/4″ thick, slid into a medium size copper skillet in which some olive oil had been heating and softening one Camelot shallot from Quarton Farm, allowed to warm and also soften just a bit, seasoned with salt and black pepper, some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge mixed in and a pinch or two of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased last fall at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market) added
  • a small amount of Savoy cabbage from remaining from the preparation of a much earlier meal (there’s a reason why cabbage was so important in the winter before California and Florida were invented) sliced into fairly narrow ribbons this time, sautéed in a little olive oil over medium high heat, stirring occasionally, until the leaves were tender, had begun to brown and become (ideally) slightly crisp at the edges, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and 4 flattened juniper berries, a few drops of sherry vinegar added, the contents of the pan stirred over heat for a moment then arranged on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a French (Menetou-Salon/Loire), Domaine Pelle, Menetou-Salon Morogues 2017, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was the ECM album, ‘Now, And Then’, Dennis Russel Davies conducting the Orchestra della Svizzera Italiana in the music of Bruno Maderna and Luciano Berio, in this case the composers addressing, respectively, the Italian Renaissance and Early Baroque eras and the tradition of classical and flamenco guitar

[the images are somewhat sepia-like because I had accidentally left the camera on the wrong setting]

saddle of hare, game sauce, quince; roast squash; sprouts

The richest, gamiest game imaginable.

Wild hare, two days in a row! Well it was already there, and for several reasons it seemed neither advisable nor possible to push back cooking our second ration of this noble meat to another day.

We found 2 more pieces of shot, for a total of 4 between us.

  • a 12 ounce/325g saddle from the Scottish Mountain hare purchased from Ottomanelli’s in the West Village, on Bleecker Street just east of 7th Avenue, that we had enjoyed the night before (the back had been cut into 4 sections and already marinated, along with the other pieces cooked on Sunday, after which it was tightly wrapped and placed overnight in the refrigerator), brought to room temperature and placed, backbone side upwards, inside an enameled cast iron roasting pan just the right size for the 4 pieces, barded with 2 long rashers of streaky bacon from Millport Dairy Farm that had been parboiled for 2 minutes then rinsed in cold water, to remove some of the strong smokey flavor of the pork, each strip then cut into 4 sections in order to be more easily arranged lengthwise on top of the hare, fastened with toothpicks, the meat placed inside a pre-heated 425°F oven to sizzle for only 7 or 8 minutes, the temperature then turned down to 325°F, and the saddle cooked for only another 10  minutes or so, the meat removed and kept warm inside a small oven pan while the pan on which it had cooked was deglazed with a tablespoon of Courvoisier V.S. cognac, followed by about 8 ounces of a very rich stock (a mix of mostly a good low-sodium chicken stock with a wonderful full-flavored wine and vegetable ham stock created with this meal, and occasionally reheated to refresh it), boiled to reduce it by half, the heat turned down, the liquid allowed to cool slightly and then only about 2 ounces of heavy cream from our local Ronnybrook Farm Dairy added and stirred continuously over a flame until the sauce had thickened, the hare then arranged on warm plates on the top of the bacon slices and the sauce ladled over both, the plates finished with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge [cook’s note: I think I would have been off adding the stock to the pan (but not over the meat itself) at the time the oven temperature was turned down, but in perhaps a smaller amount: this might have allowed the hare to cook more evenly, and also to be less well done and more moist, but I suspect all of this would have been more simple to accomplish had the animal just been larger..]
  • a quince conserve from Wilkin & Sons (the quince and fig chutney I had made having been exhausted at dinner the day before)
  • one 5-inch black futsu squash from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, halved vertically, the seeds and pith removed, cut into wedges just over one half-inch thick at 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 golden crushed dried habanada pepper, arranged on a large, unglazed, well-seasoned ceramic pan and roasted in the 425º oven on one side for 15 minutes, turned onto the other side and allowed to roast for 10 more minutes, removed from the oven and transferred to a large heavy copper pot in which 3 crushed cloves of Krasnodar red garlic from Quarton Farm and half a dozen large sage leaves from Whole Foods Market Chelsea had been gently heated  in a bit of olive oil, then gently mixed in with a wooden spatula
  • more small Migliorelli Farm Brussels sprouts, from the large number I had purchased more than a week earlier, washed, trimmed and dried, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, and black pepper, roasted inside a medium-size Pampered Chef pan until the sprouts were partly brown and crisp on the outside
  • the wine was a brilliant French (Bandol/Provence) red, Domaine Castell Reynoard Bandol 2013, from Copake Wine Works (and a great pairing)
  • the music was a wonderful 1964 recording of Mozart’s ‘Die Zauberflöte’, Karl Böhm directing the Berlin Philharmonic and the RIAS Chamber Choir, with Evelyn Lear, Roberta Peters,  Lisa Otto, Fritz Wunderlich, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Franz Crass, Hans Hotter, Hildegard Hillebrecht, Cvetka Ahlin, Sieglinde Wagner, and Friedrich Lenz, among others

hare in cognac sauce; chutney; buckwheat risotto; cabbage

One Scottish hare.

It turned out to be a 2-day feast, not necessarily because there was so much meat, but mostly because I was anxious to try to specifically prepare ‘saddle of hare’ (the phrase had always attracted me, like ‘haunch of venison’). For the saddle, see the next day’s post.

But there definitely was enough protein for 2 meals, since this really is probably the richest, gamiest traditional European-tradition game of all: A little hare goes a long way.

It’s not rabbit.

Our lepus europaeus was brought down in the field, with a shotgun, although not by the cook. While it was here we discovered two clues for identifying the manner of its demise, one while preparing the hare, one while enjoying it on the plate.

I bagged it myself only after spotting it behind the glass-door of Ottomanelli’s freezer the afternoon I picked up a large Kassler roast I had ordered for New Years Day. The price of the hare was surprisingly reasonable, especially considering how far it had flown to get here. I couldn’t resist bringing it home, even knowing it would steal a good chunk of the less-than-vast interior of our apartment refrigerator for much of a week while it lay inside, defrosting, then waiting for the cook’s attentions.

  • one Scottish mountain hare (2.6 lbs) purchased frozen from Ottomanelli’s on Bleecker Street in the West Village, defrosted over several days, cut into 10 pieces, including 4 sections from the saddle, which were later to be reserved later for a second meal, placed inside a large bowl in a marinade composed of one sliced ‘Expression Sweet’ yellow onion and 3 small carrots, also sliced, both from Norwich Meadows Farm; several small stems of celery from Phillips Farms, cut into small pieces; 4 cloves of Krasnodar red garlic from Quarton Farm; 7 large sage leaves from Whole Foods Market; 8 peppercorns; and one half bottle of wine (F. Stephen Millier Symphony), all left inside the refrigerator overnight, turning a few times before preparing the dinner the next evening, when the meat was removed from the marinade and dried, the wine and the vegetables strained and reserved separately, a tablespoon of olive oil heated inside a heavy enameled cast iron dutch oven, the vegetables tossed in and sautéed until translucent, then the hare browned over high heat inside another pan, a seasoned steel skillet, in roughly a tablespoon of butter, after which it was deglazed with about a tablespoon of Courvoisier V.S. cognac, the meat and the juices transferred to the dutch oven with the vegetables, where everything was seasoned with sea salt and one cup of the wine marinade poured in, followed by enough good chicken stock to partially cover the hare, cooked over a moderate flame for about an hour and 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, when another tablespoon of cognac was  added, plus about 2/3rds of a cup of light cream, the liquid allowed to thicken, while stirring some, hare and vegetables arranged on the plates, ladled with the sauce and finished with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a rich chutney remaining from dinner on New Years Day, whose ingredients and preparation are described in this post
  • three fourths of a cup of ‘Buck Berries, Naked Winter Barley’ from the [Union Square] Greenmarket’s Original Grains Project, cooked a bit like a risotto, with 2 and a quarter cups of water, stirring occasionally until thickened, or roughly 40 minutes (I didn’t actually time myself), seasoned with salt and butter, 6 large sage leaves, a bit of crushed home-dried habanada pepper, a couple tablespoons of butter added and stirred in off heat at the end [Cook’s note: next time I think I’ll try preparing it more like I do risotto, starting with the fat, heating the grain in it, them adding the liquid, which can vary]
  • one small 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, tin-lined copper 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 then 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 was a very special Italian (Piedmont) red, Cascina Chicco, Barolo ‘Rocche del Castelletto’ 2013, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was Mozart’s 1786 opera buffa, ‘Le nozze di Figaro’, Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting the Chamber Orchestra of Europe and the Vocalensemble Rastatt, with soloists Luca Pisaroni, Christiane Karg, Sonya Yoncheva, Thomas Hampson, Angela Brower, Anne Sofie von Otter, Maurizio Muraro, and Rolando Villazón Mauleón

kassler leftovers; parsnip habanada frites, brussels sprouts

The meat was a leftover, from a roast, but everyone should have such leftovers! The green vegetable would have been at its best had I moved it from the crisper to the oven a number of days sooner, so, not as spectacular as it should have been, but I did manage to roast the root vegetable at just the right moment, and the chutney was better than it was the first time around.

  • two ribs from a large smoked pork rib roast we had enjoyed with friends on New Years Day, heated for a few minutes in a little butter inside a large antique copper pot with some sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, covered, arranged on the plates, the little bit of the juices produced, plus some more scallion sprinkled on top
  • more of the really good chutney prepared for the first appearance of the Kassler (quince, fig, shallot, garlic, cherries, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, cardamon, peppercorns, candied ginger, and cinnamon stick)
  • medium sized parsnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced as French fries, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, roasted for about 25 minutes at 400º inside 2 Pampered Chef unglazed seasoned oven pans, one large and one small, to avoid crowding them, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • a number of quite small Brussels sprouts from Migliorelli Farm I had purchased a full week earlier, when I was afraid I wouldn’t find a green vegetable to serve over the holiday, washed, trimmed and dried, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, and black pepper, plus a bit of dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, then roasted inside another  unglazed seasoned Pampered Chef pan, a medium size this time, until the sprouts were partly brown and crisp on the outside
  • the wine was a French (Touraine/Loire) white, Vignoble Dinocheau, Pineau d’Aunis 2017, from Flatiron Wines, it was excellent, and an excelllent pairing; more about this interesting AOP here]
  • the music was Rossini’s wonderful opera buffa, ‘Il Barbiere Di Siviglia’: Great fun, it was a 1989 recording with Giuseppe Patanè conducting the Orchestra e coro del Teatro Comunale di Bologna, with Leo Nucci, Cecilia Bartoli, William Matteuzzi, Paata Burchuladze, Enrico Fissore, and others

marinated, breaded swordfish, potatoes; tardivo, balsamic

Dinner was good, very good. While we were enjoying it I thought to myself, surprisingly good, but if I had considered our routinely good experiences with the terrific fresh swordfish we can get in Manhattan, I couldn’t have been surprised.

  • one beautiful 16.5 ounce swordfish steak from American Seafood Company halved, marinated on an ironstone platter for about 45 minutes, turning once, in a mixture of a few tablespoons of olive oil, a teaspoon of chopped fresh, slowly drying, but still very sweet and pungent tarragon from Stokes Farm, a bit of peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, a small section of a home-dried habanada pepper, and the chopped white sections of one very small Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, after which the swordfish was drained, both sides covered with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, and pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until barely (or, actually, not quite) cooked to the center, then removed from the pan and arranged on 2 plates, sprinkled with a little Maldon salt, some of the chopped greener parts of the scallion, drizzled with a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon and garnished with a little purple micro radish from Windfall Farms
  • ten or so ounces of of ‘pinto’ potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with some Whole Foods house Portuguese olive oil, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, tossed with some roughly cut lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • two mid size red chicories (radicchio), that were something like a cross between treviso and tardivo, or what Chris and Jessi of Campo Rosso Farm have dubbed, ‘Rosa di Campo Rosso’, sliced broadly, sautéed until barely wilted inside an antique medium, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with a little olive oil in which one sliced Camelot shallot from Quarton Farm had already been heated until it had softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished with a dash of balsamic vinegar, arranged on the plates, and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the wine, totally new to us, was a wonderful Greek (Mantinia/Peloponnese) white, Troupis Hoof and Lur 2017 [for a little about newer Greek wines, including this one, look here], from Copake Wine Works, which is also pretty new to us (we expect to regularly order more from them)
  • the music was Tchaikovsky’s 1892 lyric opera, ‘Iolanta’, Emmanuel Villaume conducting the Slovenian Philharmonic Orchestra and the Slovenian Chamber Choir, with Anna Netrebko, Sergey Skorokhodov, Alexey Marko, and Vitalij Kowaljow

geräucherter Fischaufstrich; kassler; meerrettichkartoffeln

I love the idea of bringing in the first day of the year with a feast.

Feasts should be shared, and even if it’s only only 2 guests, it’s enough of an excuse for a roast of some kind. That brings us up to last Tuesday, when two good artist friends joined us for a late afternoon supper, pre-sundown, built around a large slow-cooked smoked pork rib roast, known in Germany as Kasslerbraten. The rest of the meal was pretty German as well, German in the broadest sense, since most of the wine was Austrian.

We nibbled on breadsticks, dried chickpeas, and taralli, which was not traditionally Germanic, but then neither was the sparkling.

The meal proper began with a smoked fish, which is also pretty Teutonic.

  • a composed smoked fish salad using local fish caught by Karl Karlin, the husband of Dolores Karlin, who made it, of more than one white species, mayonnaise, red onion, and celery, from P.E. & D.D.Seafood, spread on soft toasts of a rustic Pain d’Avignon seven grain bread (whole wheat, honey, sesame- sunflower-flax seed, oats) from Foragers
  • nasturtium leaves from Union Square Grassman (the only thing green visible in the market on Monday)
  • the wine was an Austrian (Wagram) white, Roter Veltliner, Wimmer-Czerny 2016, from Astor Wines

  • one six and three quarter-pound smoked pork rack [Ger: Kassler, or Kasslerbraten, once roasted] from O. Ottomanelli and Sons on Bleecker Street in the West Village, trimmed by Joey Ottomanelli, rubbed with a mix of salt, pepper, and a little of both picante and dulce Spanish paprika, placed inside a large enameled cast iron dutch oven with 5 diced yellow onions from John D. Madura Farms and 4 diced garlic cloves from Quarton Farm, 5 or 6 Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia, 8 or 10 juniper berries, 6 cups of water and 2 cups of a decent red wine, covered with its lid (imperfectly, because of the size of the rack, so some tin foil had to be summoned to assist), cooked in a preheated oven 375° for about an hour, the cover removed and the pork continued cooking for another possibly another hour (I didn’t time it, but it took much longer than I had expected, so we have to rely on our own judgment next time) basting occasionally, until the internal temperature was around 160º, removed from the oven, the meat cut into chops, one rib each, and kept warm while a simple sauce was prepared, starting by transferring some of the cooking liquid to a smaller saucepan where, if necessary, it was first reduced, then stirred with a mix of about 4 tablespoons of water stirred with 2 tablespoons of arrowroot to bind it, the ribs served on pre-heated plates with some of the sauce on the top, the remainder poured into a footed glass sauceboat which was added to the table
  • a rich chutney prepared the day before with 2 quince that had been in the refrigerator for what should have been an unconscionable time (but which seems to have only made them more interesting) using this theKitchn.com recipe, incorporating a few dried Calabrian (Amantea) figs from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market (to make up for the fact that I had less quince than specified in the recipe), a red shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm, a Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, quince from S. & S.O. Produce, dried sweet cherries from Manhattan Fruit Exchange in the Chelsea Market, chopped candied ginger from Whole Foods Market (I didn’t have the fresh ginger the recipe asked for), and a local apple cider vinegar from Race Farm
  • prepared the day before, refrigerated, and then reheated for 12 to 15 minutes the next afternoon: a little over 2 pounds of russet potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, peeled, and thinly-sliced, tossed in a large bowl with a teaspoon of freshly-ground black pepper, a quarter teaspoon or so of freshly-ground nutmeg, 3 Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia, half of a cup of shaved fresh horseradish from holy Schmitt’s Horseradish (in Riverside, Long Island), and two and a half cups of Ronnybrook heavy cream, all arranged inside a buttered 3-quart enameled cast iron baking dish, the liquid pressed to submerge the potatoes completely, covered in aluminum foil and baked in a 400º oven for 25 minutes, the foil removed and the dish allowed to bake further, until the potatoes were tender and the top is golden, about another 50 minutes
  • just under a pound of Savoy cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, quartered, cored, sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed inside a medium antique heavy high-sided copper pot over medium heat in about a tablespoon of olive oil and a quarter cup of cold water, cooked for a few minutes, or until the cabbage had wilted slightly, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a little more than a teaspoon of cumin seed that had first been toasted inside a small cast iron pan, and a teaspoon of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, the cabbage stirred, cooked for a few more minutes, or until tender
  • the first wine with the main course was an Austrian (Burgenland) red, Blaufränkisch, Meinklang 2016, from Astor Wines
  • followed by a part of another Austrian (Carnuntum) red, Blaufränkisch, Markowitsch 2016

Although there’s no photo of it, there was a cheese course. The choices I had made while shopping at the Greenmarket were with German styles in mind.

  • two Alpine-style cow cheeses from Cato Corner Farm in Colchester, Connecticut: ‘Dairyere‘ (aged six months), and ‘Dairyere Reserve‘ aged for a year
  • slices of a sturdy Shewolf Bakery miche, reminiscent of a great German bread
  • the wine was the remainder of the Burgenland Blaufränkish enjoyed at the end of the main course
  • followed by a return to a white, still another Austrian (Weinviertel), Riesling ‘Falkenstein’ Dürnberg 2015, also from Astor Wines

After the cheese, we sipped a port-like wine with nuts and dried fruit.

  • dried Calabrian (Amantea) figs from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, and some almonds from Foragers Market on 8th Avenue
  • the wine was a California (Jackson Valley/Amador County) Port-style fortified wine, using traditional Portuguese varietals, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador County Doce + Forte 2016, from Naked Wines

 

new year’s eve prosciutto; truffle agnolotti, pepper, chicory

And Champagne of course.

The picture above was taken in the subdued light of the dining gallery, which I normally can’t trust to be bright enough for an unblurred image. It worked this time, but I didn’t trust it for a second shot, so I took a picture of the pasta while it was still on the kitchen counter (nearly photobombed by a very old twisted wire trivet I’ve had for almost 50 years that I brought with me from Rhode Island in 1985).

It was New Years Eve, one of my favorite holidays (made it through another year!), and one we usually prefer to celebrate quietly at home with a simple supper and a complex champagne, each as elegant as possible for their respective attributes.

This year it involved, truffles, a beautiful radicchio, and an Aube sparkling (Champagne, but a younger vignoble, located south of the Marne).

The first course would have involved sea food in some form, had I been able to find something special, but this year’s holidays fell on days unfriendly to the local Greenmarket suppliers, and I didn’t want to chance the crowds in the 2 retail stores where I could have found something.

Instead, I splurged in the very best prosciutto I could find, and it happened to boast a rich red which anticipated the color of a chicory that literally jumped out of the main course that would follow it.

  • roughly 6 ounces of a 24 month prosciutto DOP Dall’Ava  D.O.K di San Daniele, of friuli, from Eataly Flatiron, drizzled with Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil
  • local Bowery arugula from Foragers Market, dressed with the same olive oil, a bit of juice from an Whole Foods Market organic lemon, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
  • a demi-baguette from Eataly I’d purchased just as it came out of the oven on 23rd Street
  • the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Casa d’Ambra Ischia Bianco 2017, from Garnet Wines

The main course just sort of came together, almost by itself, once I spotted the black truffle agnolotti at Eataly: Great butter, black pepper, yes, and a generous amount, plus a good Parmesan (best slivered), and then the torn leaves of 2 tiny gorgeous crimson very late season chicories, and a drizzle of fine olive oil

  • thirteen ounces of black truffle agnolotti from the fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron (black truffle, porcini mushrooms, pecorino and romano cheeses), cooked very briefly, or until they had just popped to the surface of the water, drained and slipped into a large antique high-sided copper pot in which more than 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had slowly been melted, arranged, half of it at a time, inside shallow bowls, finished by inserting leaves of 2 very small ‘heads’ of ‘Rosa di Campo Rosso’ radicchio (like the northern Italian tardivo) developed this year by Chris Field and Jessi Okamoto of Campo Rosso Farm, drizzled around the edges with a bit of Frankies 47 olive oil
  • the wine was more of the Ischian white, and then some from the bottle of another Italian (and again a Campania) white, Benito Ferrara Greco di Tufo 2017, also from Garnet Wines
At midnight, shortly after the main course, there were Italian dried figs and almonds from Foragers Market to share with the champagne toast.

 

  • the music throughout the evening, until midnight, was the final hours of live streaming of  the octonary WKCR Bachfest 2018 (at midnight, the live programmers let us down easily with another hour of Bach, and then ‘Jazz Til Dawn’ reminded me that I really loved cool jazz in the late 50s-early 60s (although we didn’t call it that then), and that I could go there again