venison loin, quince relish, celeriac frite, red napa cabbage

It was a very special dinner. It was Christmas, but it wasn’t a Christmas dinner.

Also, this was not a reindeer.

The special part was that it was the feast of winter, which goes by many names all over the world, but which is always observed at around the time of the winter solstice.

The featured guest was deer, red deer, and it came, not from anywhere near a real or fantasy north pole, but from New Zealand, arguably today the source of the highest-quality farmed venison This is at least partly attributable to a wholly temperate climate that allows deer to be raised on excellent pastures all year round (I’ve always thought of New Zealand as Scotland without the interesting complications, but definitely a welcoming environment for game, so long as you weren’t of the persuasion of the hunted).

Deer are not native to New Zealand; for that we have to thank nineteenth-century New Zealand settlers.  In the 1850’s and 1860’s they imported eight different species, but mostly Red deer, releasing them into the wild for sport hunting. The animals thrived in the mild climate and the predator-free environment, and their numbers were soon causing severe damage to the native forests, so in the 1930s professional hunters were called in to reduce the population.

Decades later, or some fifty years ago, entrepreneurs began sharing the culled animals with Europe, where there had always been a big market for venison, and soon after that, with demand outpacing the supply, the first farms were established, many of them with huge open pastures, fenced – ironically, because of the history – from hunters.

The meat began to be marketed in the U.S. in 1975, and I think I’ve been cooking it almost since that time.

The excellent recipe I followed on December 25th comes from a feast held at the painter Marc Séguin’s farm in Hemmingford, Quebec, and described in the New York Times in 2008., but I did not include the carrots or the onions, since I had other plans for a vegetables accompaniment.

It may have been the best venison I have ever had.

Don’t be afraid of the generous maple syrup element, as once it’s combined with the other ingredients, and fully cooked, the sauce had gone way beyond its origins and become just a rich complex game sauce.

  • a 35-ounce loin roast of New Zealand red deer (cervus elaphus) purchased from Frank, the brother who specializes in game at O. Ottomanelli’s & Sons on Bleecker Street in the Village, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, rubbed with a little olive oil and allowed to rest at room temperature while the oven was lit, its thermostat set for 400º, and a braising liquid prepared by combining in a medium saucepan 3/4 cup of David Marvin Vermont Family Heirloom Organic Maple Syrup, ‘Medium Amber Grade A’ (I donlt know where I purchased it or how long I’ve had it, but just opened it that day, and it’s wonderful), one cup of good chicken stock (I used low-sodium Better Than Bouillon chicken base, 5 sprigs of thyme (Uncle Vinny’s) from the West Side Market on 23rd Street, one bay leaf (also Uncle Vinny’s), 5 peppercorns, 1 large peeled clove of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic, gently boiling the mix until it had reduced by half, a medium enameled cast iron roasting pan set over medium-high heat with one tablespoon of butter and, when hot, the small roast browned on all sides and transferred to a plate while the maple-stock reduction was transferred into that pan, the brown bits on the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spoon and the venison returned to the pan, meat-side up, its contents seasoned with salt, placed inside the oven and cooked for 10 minutes, basting with the liquid twice, the meat flipped and the roasting continued, continuing to baste, for maybe 10 to 20 minutes more, or until the roast was rare to medium rare, (otherwise, when an instant thermometer inserted in the center registered 130 degrees), and when done, transferred to a cutting board and allowed to rest for 10 minutes, while the sauce was strained into a saucepan and simmered until reduced to the desired thickness, the seasoning corrected with salt and pepper, and the venison separated into four sections by cutting through the chine and served with the sauce (there were leftovers)

quince chutney [not yet on the plate when it was photographed], mostly using this recipe, but substituting a mix of raisins for dried cherries, and candied slices of ginger for fresh ginger

  • one 16-ounce celery root (or celeriac) from from Migliorelli Farm, scrubbed, peeled, and cut into the size and shape of potato frites, each about 1/4″ in cross section, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, a half teaspoon of Safinter Pimenton de la Vera smoked picante paprika, sea salt, and a little freshly-ground black pepper, spread onto a large seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, and roasted at 425º until brown and cooked through, or for about 30 to 35 minutes, removed to the plates, and sprinkled with chopped fresh thyme, again, from West Side Market
  • one small Napa cabbage (probably Red Dragon), from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, quartered, cored, sliced into one to one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a medium heavy, tin-lined copper pot, stirring occasionally, until wilted but still crunchy, a little more than a teaspoon of toasted cumin seed mixed in, finished with half a teaspoon of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, the mix stirred and seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, cooked another couple of minutes
  • the wine was a superb French (Northern Rhone) red, Benoit Roseau, Saint-Joseph Patagone, 2017  , from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was the 2019 WKCR-FM  Bachfestival, streaming

serrano ham, greens; mafaldine with garlic, tomato, thyme

It was the eve of Christmas, which we observe mainly with good cheer, a little irony, and a good meal, one that’s always on the light side, anticipating an even greater treat the next day, an approach, for what it’s worth, that mimic’s the Christian devotional tradition.

Mafaldine happens to be one of the most fresh beautiful pastas in Eataly’s shop (it’s also a great name, and reflects a fascinating story), so of course, almost as often as I spot it, I try to come up with something special to enjoy it with.

But first there was an antipasto.

  • lettuce, beautiful butter flat leaf red salanova lettuce, from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, dressed with the same olive oil, local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly ground black pepper, and Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar
  • slices of an in-house potato baguette from Eataly
  • the wine was a Spanish (Jerez), sherry, Gonzalez-Byass “Tio Pepe” Fino Sherry, from Astor Wines

The pasta course was just as basic, as it merely combined a great fresh form with a great fresh summer survivor, some tomatoes that had managed to hold off until winter.

  • one pound (4 ‘nests’) of fresh Mafaldine pasta (semolina flour, water) from Eataly Flatiron cooked for a couple minutes before combined with a simple sauce made by heating in a deep, enameled cast-iron pot 2 roughly-chopped cloves of rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and a bit of finely chopped green celery from Norwich Meadows Farm until both were pungent and softened, stirring, along with some reserved pasta cooking water, until the liquid had emulsified, tossing in a small basket of a mix of slightly punctured late December heirloom cherry tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm, seasoned with our local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company’s sea salt, some freshly ground black pepper, with a generous amount of fresh chopped thyme (Uncle Vinny’s) from the 23rd Street West Side Market, mixed in, the pasta removed to shallow bowls, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with more of the herb
  • the wine with the pasta was an Italian (Umbria) white, Barberani, Grechetto, 2017, from Flatiron Wines

 

butter roasted salmon, seasoning salt, chive; potato; redbor

The Pacific Northwest (Alaska waters?) salmon at our local Whole Foods Market looked particularly good on that Monday, and the price was really good. Besides, earlier in the day I had learned from the GrowNY site that there would be no fish at the Union Square Greenmarket that day, all of which goes toward explaining how this meal came together as it did.

  • one gorgeous 17-ounce section from a fillet of wild caught Pacific sockeye salmon (previously frozen), from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, halved, placed unseasoned, skin sides up, inside a heavy medium size enameled cast iron pan in which a little more than 2 tablespoons of a rich local Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had been allowed to melt over a low to medium flame until the foam had begun to recede, the pan placed inside a 425º oven until the salmon had barely cooked, meaning only about 8 minutes altogether (flipped over after 5), removed, arranged on the plates, seasoned, only now, with a finishing salt, the gift of a friend who had been given the recipe (the ingredients included sea salt, 5 different seasoning peppers, plus dehydrated vanilla, lemon and lime) by a chef in Baden-Baden, and some freshly-ground black pepper, scattered with scissored chives from Phillips Farms, allowed to rest for a couple minutes before serving, covered loosely with tin foil, arranged on the plates

  • nine small Masquerade 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 a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with chopped thyme leaves from West Side Market (Uncle Vinny’s)

 

spaghetti, onion-tuna-caper-peperoncino sauce, parsley

It’s simple, it takes less than a half hour to put on the table, and it feels right at any time of the year, but the ingredients should be the very best available.

By the way, forget you thought you knew about tuna casseroles: The Italians know how to incorporate [very good] canned tuna into any number of dishes, with astounding results.

  • one medium roughly-chopped red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, stirred in a couple tablespoons of olive oil over a medium-high flame inside a large enameled cast iron pot until softened, followed by a teaspoon of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, 2 tablespoons of salted Sicilian capers, thoroughly rinsed, and the contents of one 14-ounce can of Mutti cherry tomatoes (Ciliegini), the tomatoes themselves first halved, the mixture cooked, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes began to break up, the heat then lowered and the pot kept on the flame for 5 or 10 minutes more, then just before the pasta itself (8 ounces of [Setaro spaghetti from Buon Italia]), boiled barely al dente was added, 6 ounces of Ás do Mar belly meat tuna in olive oil, already slightly flaked with a fork, slid into the sauce and mixed in, some reserved pasta water added and stirred in to ensure the pasta was not really dry, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, garnished with chopped parsley from Westside Market
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) red, Luis Vieira Montaria Gold 2016, from Naked Wines 
  • the music was Wagner’s ‘Der fliegende Holländer’, Marc Minkowski conducting Les Musiciens du Louvre

mushroom, cheese, garlic sausage; roasted roots; shishito

A very sturdy winter dinner, with a few juicy sweet peppers to point out just how sturdy and wintry it was.

  • four 4-ounce artisanal porcini, Parmesan cheese, and black garlic fresh sausages (pork, white wine, salt, Parmesan cheese, black garlic, porcini, and shiitake mushrooms, black pepper, natural casings) from Hudson Vally Charcuterie  at Raven & Boar farm, seared in a little olive oil inside an oval enameled cast iron oval pan, turning frequently, until colored on all sides, arranged on the 2 plates, garnished with micro red Russian kale from Windfall Farms and accompanied by 4 mustards, including a rich shallot, garlic, paprika and turmeric mustard, also from Hudson Valley Charcuterie
  • [three different kinds of potatoes that I already had on hand, but none of them would have been sufficient by itself to serve as a side, 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, divided onto 2 plates, garnished with micro ruby red chard from Windfall Farms
  • bright red ripe shishito peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved lengthwise, pith and seeds removed, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot over a medium high flame until slightly carbonized, the flame reduced, a smal amount of chopped green celery stem and several quite small chopped scallions added and heated until softened, seasoned with salt and pepper and tossed with a bit of chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm
  • the wine was a French (Roussillon) red, Benjamin Darnault Roussillon Villages 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Johann Georg Conradi’s 1691 opera, ‘Die Schöne und Getreue Ariadne’, the Boston Early Music Festival Chorus & Orchestra, with artistic co-directors Paul O’Dette and Stephen Stubbs

fennel and chili-paved grilled tuna; sautéed tomato; potato

It was a steak, and while it looks like beef in the light recorded by the photograph above, it was tuna, and it tasted like tuna, which is to say, very good.

Looking for music to accompany the meal, Barry turned up 2 very interesting composers totally unfamiliar to either of us until that night.

  • 15-ounces of yellowfin tuna steak (in 2 pieces) from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, tops and bottoms seasoned with local sea salt processed by the fisherman, Phil Karlin of P.E & D.D. Seafood, on the grounds of his Riverside home, and freshly-ground black pepper, then ‘paved’ with a mixture of less than a tablespoon of some incredibly pungent dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo [wild Sicilian fennel seed] harvested in the Iblei Mountains, purchased from Eataly Flatiron, and a little dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market (both first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle), plus a very small amount of dried habanada pepper, the steaks pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for little more than a minute or so on each side, finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic California lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, garnished with micro ruby red chard from Windfall Farms, finished with a drizzle of Chelsea Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil
  • some purple viking potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in a generous amount of 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 a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper and sprinkled with scissored Brooklyn chives (Square Roots) from the 23rd Street West Side Market  
  • one windowsill-ripened late season orange heirloom tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm, halved horizontally, the cut sides sprinkled sea salt, black pepper, a bit of chopped fresh marjoram from Willow Wisp Farm, sautéed on both sides, then arranged on the plates, garnished with more of the herb and small drizzle of olive oil 
  • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Tenuta Ugolino, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Piaole 2018, from Flatiron Wines
  • the music was Britta Byström’s ’10 Secret doors’, Johannes Gustavsson conducting the Vasteras Sinfonietta, but later we listened to work by Anders Erik Birger Eliasson, which sent both of us looking for more information on both, quickly turning up a nugget from Eliasson, writing about Stockholm’s “modernist fortress” during the period of his musical studies, and citing an example of a composer whose work has been under-appreciated (almost painfully so, for me), both during and after his early death*

 

*”It was a time of unbearable self-denial. Metrical rhythms, melodies, even particular intervals were all taboo in contemporary music. This was a catastrophe for the human voice and the human ear – was then, and still is.” Anyone stepping out of line, he said, was immediately banished. He mentioned an example from Sweden, Allan Pettersson.” – Anders Erik Birger Eliasson (1947-2013) [from his Wikipedia entry]

 

[the image of Allan Pettersson, via my blog, from a site that no longer exists]

oregano, chili-roasted squid, lemon; potato; tender collards

“squid | skwid |

noun (plural same or squids)

an elongated, fast-swimming cephalopod mollusk with ten arms (technically, eight arms and two long tentacles), typically able to change color.

But that’s always only a part of the story.

  • exactly one pound of fresh squid, mostly bodies, because someone else had just bought all the tentacles, from American Seafood Company, rinsed and very carefully dried, quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until quite hot and its the cooking surface brushed with a little olive oil once it had, sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, local Long Island waters sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly-ground black pepper, and 4 or 5 quite small chopped aji dulce seasoning peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, followed by a full 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods California lemon and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside a 400º oven and the squid roasted for just 5 minutes, by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, removed and arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices that had been transferred from the pan to a sauce boat
  • 10 ounces of small Masquerade 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 a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with micro ruby red chard from Windfall Farms
  • tender collards from Tamarack Hollow Farm, leaves and stems roughly cut, washed several times and drained, transferred to a smaller bowl very quickly in order to retain as much of the water clinging to them as possible, braised inside a large, heavy antique tin-lined copper pot in which 2 halved cloves of rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had first been allowed to sweat in some olive oil, finished with salt and pepper and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was an Italian (Lombardy) white, Lugana, Ca’ Lojera 2018, from Astor Wines
  • the music was Lully’s 1677 tragédie en musique, ‘Isis’, performed by Christophe Rousset and his Talens Lyriques

pasta, celery, olive, habanada, lovage, pinoli, micro scallion

We weren’t interested in a big deal meal, so I thought I’d put together a pasta.

Barry said he would like one with which we could enjoy a red wine, so I gathered some ingredients that would please that choice. It was far more interesting, and delicious, than we had expected, and a second helping was even better, which is always the case with a good pasta.

  • a little chopped garlic and chopped shallot heated until fragrant inside a large antique tin-lined copper pot, some small chopped sections of very small celery stems added and also heated briefly before the introduction of a few small pieces of dried habanada, a handful of pitted black oil-cured olives and a small amount of chopped celery leaves, then 9 ounces of Setaro Torre Annunziata Napoli Penne Rigatoni from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, cooked al dente, mixed in, and almost a cup of the reserved cooking water added and stirred until the liquid had emulsified, the sauced pasta placed in shallow bowls, sprinkled with lovage, finished with a sprinkling of pine nuts (accidentally toasted beyond the stage I had  intended, but the carbonization seemed perfect for this dish), garnished with c from Two Guys from Woodbridge, with a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges
  • the wine was an Italian (Pedmont/Alba) red, Barbera d’Alba, Produttori di Govone 2016, from Astor Wines
  • the music was Mendelssohn’s, his 1837 Piano Concerto No. 2  and the 1824 Symphony No. 1, Kristian Bezuidenhout on fortepiano, and the Freiburger Barockorchester, Pablo Heras-Cas directing

swordfish belly; cherry tomatoes, marjoram; red mustard

Somebody else said it, but it totally makes sense: Swordfish belly is to swordfish as pork belly is to pork.

Which means it’s absolutely wonderful, and explains why I’ve gone home with some every time I’ve found it in the market. Because it doesn’t show up at our local fish stands very often, this was only the fourth time I’ve been able to prepare it.

  • one 1½-inch-thick 14-ounce belly steak from a local, Long Island waters, swordfish (noting there’s a significant shrinkage in the cooking process, so this amount represented 2 modest portions) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to kitchen/room temperature, cut into 2 segments, the skin not sliced off this time, as it’s perfectly edible and it helps hold together the shape of the belly meat, briefly seared, 30 or so seconds on the first side, 15 or a little more on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter whatsoever) enameled cast iron oval pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until quite hot, the swordfish seasoned, as it was turned, with local Long Island sea salt, also from P.E. & D.D., and freshly ground black pepper,  removed and arranged on warm plates, the heat under the pan reduced to medium and a tablespoon or so of olive oil added, slices from one rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm placed inside and sautéed until softened, and then a couple dozen or so halved, very ripe golden cherry tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm, punctured with a small trussing steel, which added and pushed around inside the pan briefly, after which all of its contents were arranged on and around the seared swordfish, both fish and vegetable finished with a squeeze of a small organic Californian lemon from Chelsea While Foods Market and sprinkled with chopped marjoram from from Willow Wisp Farm
  • slices of a crusty She Wolf Bakery baguette to soak up all the juices

goat cheese and lemon panzerotti, granada pepper, parsley

It was an extremely simple meal of a pasta followed by a course that included 3 different cheeses with bread to accompany them.