lamb chops, ramps, lemon; rosemary-roasted turnips; kale

It was one of our anniversaries.  Actually, It was the meal which celebrated the anniversary that had we really marked a few days earlier.

We ate in the raised ‘gallery’ above the living room, as we do for special occasions, including any more formal meal with guests. While we don’t usually play music when we’re dining with friends, on Sunday night we were alone, and we listened to our song (or at least most of it), ‘Tristan und Isolde‘, in a historical, and really great recording.  The music came from speakers slightly below us, in the larger room, which has windows fronting on the street (a venue that can sometimes rival the volume – and interest – of what we may be playing).

But last night, in my imagination, we were dining inside the private foyer of our own loge at the Vienna State Opera.

That one is not ours. Although our foyer is larger, our opera house is much smaller than the Wiener Staatsoper. The windows were mostly closed that night, so the street precincts beyond, which can contribute a broader tonal collage of (found) sounds, were not a factor on this night.

  • *four thick really, really good 6-ounce rib lamb chops purchased from Greg and Mike at the Sun Fed Beef/ Maple Avenue Farms stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, brought to room temperature, dried well, cooked on a very hot enameled cast iron grill pan for around 12 minutes, turned over twice, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper after the first time, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, then scattered with the chopped bulbs and sliced leaves of an ounce and a half of young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • sunflower sprouts from Windfall Farms

  • purple-topped turnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, scrubbed, peeled, cut into half-inch-thick slices, tossed with Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, plus a handful of rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm and 3 broken bay leaves from Westside Market, roasted in a large unglazed Pampered Chef ceramic pan for about 30 or 35 minutes at 425º, or until tender and beginning to carbonize (note: I don’t really have to turn them over when using this miracle oven pan, but I did this time, encouraging some crispy edges)

  • green kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed, or wilted, in a tablespoon of olive oil in which 2 of Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves had first been allowed to sweat and begin to brown, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a dash of more olive oil
  • *the wine was a spectacular Italian (Umbria) red, Adanti Sagrantino di Montefalco 2006, from Garnet Wines

There was also an opera ice.

  • a ‘Lemon Zest’ sorbet made by Vermont’s Blue Moon Sorbet, from Foragers Market, drizzled with Frankies 457  Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend, a bit of Maldon salt, and some zest from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, garnished with one of Anna’s Ginger Swedish Thins

 

 

[image from inside a red/white/gold box at the Vienna State Opera from Trip Advisor; the bottom image, a still from the 3rd act of Wieland Wagner’s ‘Tristan’, the production we listened to, from Michael Erlebach’s Pinterest]

 

steak, ramp butter; potatoes roasted with red onion; chard

Last night we had some old friends over for dinner. They were visiting their previous city from their current home in the Southwest. We hadn’t seen them in at least 15 years, and I was a little worried about what to put on the table, so I just went with meat and potatoes – and chard of course! Also of course, virtually everything was local.

It was a pretty straightforward meal, but it included a special treat: Local ramps, the first of the season, which, for the occasion, I made into a composed butter which topped the grilled New York New York strip steaks.

The potatoes were dark purple, inside and out, and they stayed purple, inside and out, after roasting.

The chard was the color of a modestly-showy rainbow, and those colors too were fast.

We anticipated the meal with some nibbles.

We then went right into the main course.

  • four 8-ounce New York strip steaks from Lowland Farm, in Orange County, New York (by the ‘Black Dirt’ fields of Pine Island), brought to room temperature and dried, sprinkled with a generous amount of freshly roughly-ground black pepper, placed on a very hot cast iron pan grill for just about 10 minutes, turning twice, salting each side after it had been been turned, removed and arranged on the 4 plates, finished with ramp butter using small, first-of-the-season woodland ramps from Lucky Dog Organic, part of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and some Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’
  • ‘Magic Molly‘ fingerling potatoes (21 ounces) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, scrubbed, then, unpeeled, dried, sliced lengthwise, mixed inside a bowl with one medium red onion from S. & S.O. Produce Farms, a tablespoon or two of Portuguese olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a piece of crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper, a small handful of very fresh rosemary leaves from rosemary from Stokes Farm, stripped from their stems, everything arranged on the surface of a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 400º for about 30 minutes, or maybe a little longer, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • two bunches of rainbow chard from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a couple tablespoons of Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market, in which 3 Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had first been heated and slightly softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-groun black pepper, and finished with a little lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) red, Quinta da Pellada Dac Red Blend 2013, from Garnet Wines

There was a modest cheese course.

And, as the evening, and the conversation, continued, a sweet dessert course as well.

  • ‘Lemon Zest’ sorbet from Vermont’s Blue Moon Sorbet, from Foragers Market, served in 4 small bowls along with very thin slices of a Sundance Organics Meyer lemon from Foragers Market, and topped with zest from the other end of the lemon, and garnished with one of Anna’s Ginger Swedish Thins

the elusive monkfish [coda di rospo] inguazato; cavolo nero

I could have put this meal together even more quickly (30 minutes start to finish) than I did, if only I’d remembered ahead of time that I was supposed to pit the olives before I tossed them into the mix of garlic, chilis, and tomatoes.

Incidentally, it’s a fantastic recipe, but for years I’ve been baffled by the fact that I could find no mention of it on line, anything even similar to it. In fact, if you do a Google image search for ‘inguazato’, 99.9% of the pictures that pop up are from my own food blog, and most aren’t even related to this dish.  Tonight however, I tried searching under ‘coda di rospo couscous‘ (monkfish couscous), and I immediately came up with several sites, including this one. Now I can relax, but I also have to investigate further.

  • two 9-ounce monkfish tails from Pura Vida Seafood, prepared using a David Pasternak recipe, but  reducing the proportions, using two thirds of a cup of Tunisian M’hamsa Couscous and Portuguese olive oil, both from Whole Foods in Chelsea, sliced Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, one and a half 400-gram cans of really good Afeltra canned pomodorini from Eataly Flatiron and several kinds of cracked green olives, from Buon Italia, Eataly Flatiron, and the Chelsea Whole Foods Market, all of which I happened to have on hand (ideally, they would be large green Sicilian olives), and 2 small whole dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia
  • two cavolo nero rooted hydroponic plants from Stokes Farm, wilted briefly inside a medium vintage tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil in which one Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic clove had first been heated, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with a little more oil
  • the wine was a California (Carneros) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was from the remaining scenes or ‘Der Rosenkavalier‘, the opera which we had begun to listen to during dinner the night before

chorizo grill, cranberry mustard; boiled potato, chive; raab

It may look pretty unsophisticated, and it was unsophisticated, but the meal was delicious, and surprisingly cosmopolitan: The sausage was spicy Iberian, but made by a legendary New York German butcher shop; the sauce had both American and German elements, but was made in the U.S.; except for the Italian olive oil, the potatoes were pretty German, even if they were called ‘Yukon; the greens, garlic, and peperoncino were totally Italian; the wine has to be described as both American and Portuguese; the music was at once Münchner und Wiener, and it gracefully straddled 3 different centuries (albeit just under 200 years).

Oh, and Barry and I both agree: One cannot serve potatoes too often.

stuffed scallops; cod baked with potatoes; rapini; gelato

Our special guest, visiting from overseas (oh, magic word) had never had dinner in our apartment, at least not while we were there, so I wanted the meal to be special as well. The most important thing was not to mess up; the second was that it would be delicious, but also reflect some of the rich local seafood bounty available in New York.

Its success at the table depended partly on my not being too distracted by brilliant conversation in the kitchen, and the food choices I had were almost entirely dependent on what was available in the Greenmarket that afternoon. I’m pretty sure the meal passed muster, and the incredibly fresh local scallops, cod, and winter rapini filled the program I had in mind very well.

The appetizer’s featured player has always been a popular favorite.

  • nine sea scallops (10 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way through to accommodate small bits from a mixture of some fresh oregano leaves from Stokes Farm, one medium-size clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, all having chopped together very finely and removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste, the scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, drained, pan grilled in an enameled cast iron pan for about 2 minutes on each side, removed to 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil
  • six large, very ripe, very sweet Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, washed, dried, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, heated for a minute in a small tin-lined copper skillet
  • slices of a wonderfully-crusty ‘polenta boule’ from She Wolf Bakery
  • the wine was a French (Loire/Cheverny) white, Pascal Bellier Cheverny Blanc 2017, from Vin Des Amis

The central actor in the main course also came from the sea, although the extraordinary purple potatoes gave the wonderful fresh cod some earthy competition.

  • *three 9-ounce cod fillets from American Seafood Company in the Union Square greenmarket, halved, prepared more or less along the lines of a recipe described by Mark Bittman that I had originally come across 12 years ago: the cod washed and rinsed, placed in a 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 for them by slicing 20 ounces or so of Tamarack Hollow Farm Peter Wilcox purple-skinned, golden-fleshed potatoes (several, maybe interlopers, were purple all the way through) to a thickness of about a quarter inch, tossing them in a large bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a large pinch of orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper (acquired fresh last fall from Norwich Meadows Farm), arranging the potatoes, overlapping, in a rectangular enameled cast iron oven pan, cooking them for 25 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced, and then, before the potatoes had fully cooked, the cod having already been thoroughly immersed in many changes of water to bring down the saltiness (incidentally, the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while it’s being handled it at this point, and it’s kinda sexy), draining and drying the 3 pieces before placing them inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzling them with a little olive oil and scattering some freshly-ground black pepper on top, returning the pan to the oven for 8 to 12 minutes (the exact time depends on the thickness of the fillets), removing the fish with a spatula (or, much better, two spatulas), along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought with each piece, and arranging everything as intact if possible onto 3 plates, returning to the pan for the remainder of the potatoes, the servings each scattered with sunflower sprouts from Windfall Farms [Note: whether by luck or skill, maybe both, the cod was cooked perfectly]
  • one bunch of broccoli rabe (aka rapini) from Migliorelli Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 3 Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been heated until beginning to color, then seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, divided onto the plates and drizzled with more olive oil
  • the wine with the main course was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Folias de Baco Uivo Moscatel Galego Branco 2016, also from Vin Des Amis

The dessert (wow, we rarely get that far through a meal, even when we have guests) was a first for all of us.

 

  • the music throughout the meal was our conversation

lemon-roasted pork chop; tomato; cress; sunchoke ‘chips’

It wasn’t a fish day at the market, and it wasn’t even a market day. In fact I hadn’t  been to the Greenmarket in 4 days, so I wouldn’t have had much to work with if I had wanted to put together a pasta or egg dish.

Then I realized that it was probably time to do something with the sun chokes I had in the crisper, so I defrosted the 2 small pork chops I had also been saving.

Some of the tomatoes I had on the north window sill became a fresh condiment for an entrée that would otherwise have felt pretty wintry, and the very last bit of some wild cress remaining in the refrigerator added a touch of green.

  • two thick, bone-in, eight-and-a-half-ounce loin pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, rinsed and thoroughly dried, seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, seared quickly over a high flame inside a heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed over both, then left in the pan, cut side down, while they roasted in a 400º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over them once again with metal tongs), the chops removed from the oven, sprinkled with sliced spring garlic from Windfall Farms and chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and the pan juices spooned over the top
  • twelve ounces or so of sunchokes from Max Creek Hatchery, trimmed, scrubbed, sliced very thinly (1/8-1/4 inch), tossed with barely a tablespoon of olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, one section of golden/orange habanada pepper, and two halved bay leaves from Westside Market, spread in one layer onto two large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pans (one would not be enough, since they had been cut so thinly and there really has to be some pan surface showing if they are expected to become crisp), roasted at 425º for about 30 minutes, or until they were brown, tender, and crispy on the edges
  • four Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, washed, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshlypf=ground black pepper, arranged cut side down around the pork chops during the last five minutes of their time in the oven
  • a little bit of wild cress from Lani’s Farm, not dressed
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Bairrada) white, Luis Pato Vinhas Velhas Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines

[third image is a detail of ‘Tim Rollins and K.O.S., A Midsummer Night’s Dream (after Mendelssohn and Shakespeare)’ 2012, watercolor, ink on music score pages on canvas, the photograph is from The Style Abettor]

bresaola; rye pasta, red onion, habanada, sage, poppyseed

I had looked at the Union Square Greenmarket phone app while still abed on Monday, and saw I that there would be no fisher presence there that day, probably because the weather over the weekend had kept the boats from going out, so I didn’t head down. I could have used some vegetables, but I knew I’d find something to use with what I had on hand.

I went with an interesting salume and an interesting pasta, and I almost cleaned out my very small supply of greenery in the process.

  • four ounces of bresaola ‘Bernina’, from the Valtellina, a valley in Lombardy, via Eataly, drizzled with a bit of Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend
  • a small handful of arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with a small drizzle of the same oil, a bit of Maldon salt, and some freshly-ground black pepper
  • slices of a whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone

The pasta was a total improvisation.

  • three tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ melted inside an antique tin-lined high-sided copper pot, thin slices of one medium red onion from Eataly and three small sliced cloves of Keith’s Farm Rocambole added and stirred over a low to moderate flame until translucent, several leaves of fresh sage added, along with a piece of a dried darker gold habanada pepper, stirred for a minute or so, and a good part of one sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm tossed in, followed by the addition of a quarter to a half of a teaspoon of poppyseed and a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, and finally half a pound of Sfoglini ‘Rye Trumpets’ (organic rye flour, organic durum semolina flour, water), cooked seriously al dente, were slipped into the pot and stirred over medium heat while some reserved pasta water was added to emulsify the liquid, the pasta divided between 2 shallow bowls, a bit of Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market drizzled around the edges, and topped with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano Hombre from Whole Foods Market
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2017, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘Bloodroot’ by Kelly Moran

braised pork belly; red turnips roasted with rosemary; chard

It was just about the simplest recipe possible for cooking pork belly, but it was at least as delicious as my first turn at this wonderful cut almost a year ago, when I cooked a ‘pork belly porchetta’, using a procedure that was a bit more involved. Knowing that the little roast could be served either warm or at room temperature relieved some of the stress of having to guess the cooking time for a piece that weighed little over a pound, while preparing 2 vegetables with very different requirements.

The vegetables too arrived on the table with very few extras, and little fuss, although both the turnips and the chard had started out pretty well equipped.

The turnip color was spectacular, although much of the red disappeared when they were peeled.

I would normally describe the greens as rainbow chard, but the one bunch left on the table when I arrived at the farm stall didn’t include any true yellow stems, so I’ll call it ‘half-rainbow chard’.

Only the pork was served with a garnish, but the turnips, shown here before they went into the oven, were joined by some very fresh rosemary early on.

  • *one section of pork belly (1.09 pounds) from Flying Pigs Farm, rinsed in cold water, patted dry, the fat side scored at one-centimeter intervals, and the piece halved to keep it from curling while cooking, the flesh side seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then placed skin side up inside an oval enameled cast iron pot on top of 10 or so fresh small-to-medium-size sage leaves, that surface seasoned with more sea salt, roasted inside a roughly 465º F oven for about 25 minutes, or until the skin was starting to blister and crackle, then enough whole milk added to the pot to come halfway up the side of the meat (this is why it’s best to use a pot little larger than the piece of meat), the heat reduced to 325º and roasted for another hour, possibly less, or until the meat is “meltingly tender”, as the recipe that I used reads, the pork removed from both the oven and the pot (the milk will curdle if the meat is left inside), and either kept warm or allowed to cool (I kept it warm while finishing the vegetables, and garnished it with bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm)
  • red turnips from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, peeled, and cut into half-inch-thick slices, tossed with Portuguese olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a generous amount of very fresh rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, roasted inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan for about 30 minutes at 425º
  • one modest-size bunch of ‘half-rainbow chard’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little Portuguese olive oil in which three small Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves had first been heated and slightly softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and finished with a little more olive oil and a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon
  • the wine was a German (Rheinhessen) white, Scheurebe Sonnentau Trocken, Gysler 2014, from Astor Wines
  • the music was Phil Kline‘s program, ‘Unsilence’, on New Sounds, streaming

eggs and bacon and tomatoes and toast, with other stuff

It was a pretty familiar Sunday breakfast at home, even if the herbs and seasonings were juggled around this time.

  • six short slices of smoked bacon from Flying Pigs Farm, fried very slowly in a very large heavy seasoned cast iron pan
  • six beautiful Americauna eggs from Millport Dairy Farm, slowly fried in the fat rendered by the bacon (with the addition of a bit of Portuguese olive oil), with the addition of Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, small dabs of sun-dried chili-pepper harissa from NYShuk Pantry, a bit of chopped green ends of a spring garlic from Windfall Farms, chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, and  scissored-cut chives from Lucky Dog Organic Farm
  • four halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Chelsea, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, gently heated inside a small tin-lined copper skillet, arranged on the plates next to the eggs, sprinkled with chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm and scissored-cut chives from Lucky Dog Organic Farm
  • a garnish of micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms
  • toasts of a whole wheat sourdough Miche from Bread Alone
  • the music was New Sounds, streaming, including works from the Cocteau Twins, George Crumb, John Cage and Pauline Oliveros

halibut cheeks, onion, garlic, arugula; crab/ramp sacchetti

I’ve never cooked halibut cheeks before, and I don’t think I had even heard of sacchetti, or culurgiònesprior to looking up the words at home yesterday, having purchasing some of that exotic(?) filled pasta an hour earlier.

I’m happy that we were able to enjoy the two courses as I was able to put them together, with the help of the internet,  but the meal might eventually be better remembered better for what I learned about these foods, as I now feel better equipped to present them both more minimally and more naturally.

The halibut should probably be gently sautéed, in butter or olive oil, maybe with a little favorite fresh allium involved, and then finished with a bit of fresh lemon and an herb.

I don’t know why I decided not to go with the addition of a little tomato (fresh cherry tomato), especially since, yeaaah, I was working with shellfish, fish roe, and the first ramps of the season, but it’s now something I’m going to look forward to, that is, as long as Eataly’s Luca Donofrio decides to make these dumplings again.

Another confession: I ended up using the same garnish on the halibut that I had already decided to scatter on top of the pasta; I don’t know why, and I also don’t know what I had originally thought I would team with the fish.

  • a tablespoon or so of butter melted inside a large tin-lined copper sauté pan, one chopped medium red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and 3 small sliced Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm added and sautéed until translucent, then some salt; half of a tablespoon of scissored chives from Lucky Dog Organic Farm; the zest from almost one whole organic Whole Foods Market lemon, along with a little lemon juice; and one fourth of a cup of white wine added, after which the liquid was heated until reduced by a third, and one tablespoon of rinsed salted Sicilian capers stirred in, and 6 halibut cheeks (8 ounces) purchased from Eataly Flatiron that afternoon were slipped into the skillet and cooked, covered, for 3 minutes or so on on each side, the cheeks and the sauce arranged on 2 plates, garnished with chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, plus a spray of that same herb as well [the basic recipe is on this site]
  • arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with a small drizzle of Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper

  • twelve ounces of a lump crab, fish roe, spring ramp, and mascarpone-filled pasta (called ‘culurgiones‘, ‘sacchetti‘, or ‘sacchettone‘) from from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store, boiled carefully in a large amount of well-salted water, drained, some of the pasta water retained, slipped into a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which one sliced stem of spring garlic stem from Windfall Farms had been heated in a tablespoon or so of Portuguese olive oil, stirred over medium heat with the addition of some of the pasta water to emulsify the liquid, then some freshly-ground black pepper added, the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, more olive oil drizzled around the edges, garnished with chopped bronze fennel from Windfall Farms
  • the wine was a German (Mosel-Saar-Ruwer) white, Elbling, Furst 2016, from Astor Wines
  • the music was Beethoven’s ‘Die Geschöpfe Des Prometheus’ (The Creatures of Prometheus), Op.43, the complete ballet music, performed by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra