I could easily get used to this.

 

Venison has always been one of my favorite entrées, but I’m becoming more and more comfortable with preparing it at home, and I’m really enjoying the process of selecting it from some of my favorite butchers.

This time I picked a fresh venison ‘shortloin’ from Frank (the game specialist brother) at Ottomanelli’s in the West Village.

We had expected to have guests, although we hadn’t starting asking friends until after they had already made commitments, as it turned out. We had both been under the weather for weeks, and arranging a dinner party didn’t get on the to-do list until later.

The piece, the very tenderest loin cut of red deer (cervus elaphus), that I had brought home was larger than we wanted for just ourselves (it’s a very rich meat), so I cut one section away after I had unwrapped the package and carefully stowed it in the freezer for another day.

The recipe I used is for the venison is by Brendan Walsh; it’s one from an article I had cut from the Daily News 30 years ago, and I still have the yellowing newsprint in my ‘game’ file. Walsh was the young chef at Arizona 206 at the time.

The venison was the only major part of this meal not sourced locally (American game is not allowed to be sold anywhere in the country), and many of the ‘minor’ elements – including the fantastic lemon[!] – were also from the New York City area.

I included some of the compote or chutney I had prepared for our Thanksgiving dinner, and which we have enjoyed again since; it was as luscious as ever.

 

The tender parsnips were cooked mostly along the lines of a recipe, new to me, which I found on this site.

 

The sweet collards are old friends of ours.

 

• two 7-ounce, one-inch thick medallions cut from a fresh, vacuum-packaged 22-ounce New Zealand venison ‘shortloin’ from D’artagnan, via Ottomanelli’s, dried rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coasting of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, set aside for more than an hour, after which it was placed over moderately high heat in 1-2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside an oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan, cooked barely medium rare, which meant about 2 minutes on one side, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, turned and cooked for another 2 minutes, transferred to warm plates, the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, a quarter cup of brandy (Courvoisier V.O. this time) added to the pan and cooked over high heat until reduced to about 2 tablespoons before the sauce was poured over the meat, which was then garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market (it was almost certainly the last of this sweet herb I will see from local farmers)
• quince chutney, made following this theKitchn.com recipe, using a shallot from Keith’s Farm, a garlic clove from Stokes Farm, quince from Red Jacket Orchards, dried sweet cherries (don’t know whether they were local) from Whole Foods, fresh ginger from Lani’s Farm, apple cider from Locust Grove Fruit Farm (the recipe asked for apple cider vinegar, and I do have a bottle of the local stuff, from Race Farm, but I misread the instruction and the dish still turned out more than fine)
• half to 3 quarters of a pound of young parsnips from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, peeled, cut, roughly into 3 to 4 inch lengths and half inch widths, tossed and stirred inside a medium copper pot in which 4 tablespoons of butter had been melted, the roots sprinkled with salt and pepper, removed with a slotted wooden spoon and the pot put aside on the stove, arranged on a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted in a 375º oven for about 45 minutes, after which half a tablespoon of juice and a teaspoon of zest from a sweet local lemon, from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a few pinches of freshly-grated nutmeg were added to the pot of melted butter reserved earlier, the parsnips added and tossed with the butter over medium heat for a minute or two, and the seasoning corrected, if necessary
• some sweet late-season loose collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, cut as a very rough chiffonade, braised in a heavy pot in which one large clove of quartered garlic from Stokes Farm had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Napa) red, Ken Deis Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Reserve 2014, from Naked Wines

We had begun the meal with sips of champagne in the parlor, 2 steps below the dining gallery (it sounds fancy, especially since there were only the two of us, but it’s actually something we rarely indulge ourselves with).

• breadsticks, Mario Fongo ‘Il Panate’, Grissini con farina di riso nero ‘Artemide’, from Eataly
• the wine was a split of Veuve Clicquot Champagne Brut Rosé

The first course was one of my favorites, for its pleasures and for its ease of preparation.  Although this time I had completely forgotten to include the little bit of of balsamic vinegar I had even set out beforehand, it was still delicious.

• inside a large enameled cast iron pot, one chopped garlic clove from Stokes Farm, sautéed in a tablespoon of olive oil only until golden, followed by less than 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar, 6 crushed juniper berries, and roughly half of a pound of a ‘conehead’ cabbage (also known as ‘caraflex’ or ‘arrowhead’ cabbage) from Norwich Meadows Farm, very finely sliced after the triangular core had been removed and set aside, the cabbage seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat raised, the mix fried for about one minute, stirring, then arranged in 2 shallow bowls (I’ve used the basic recipe a number of times as an appetizer when we have guests; it’s from ‘Healthy Italian Cooking‘, by Emanuella Stucchi, a slim ‘stealth vegetarian’ volume I had been using for years before I realized there was absolutely no meat or fish in any of the recipes it described
• slices from a loaf of Eric Kayser’s ‘Pain aux Céréales’
• the wine was a German (Mosel) white, Selbach Incline Dry Riesling Mosel 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault

We didn’t make it to a cheese course.

 

• the music throughout the meal was WKCR streaming, its 9-day ‘Bach Festival 2016, specifically the cello suites, with various performers, in a program hosted by the cellist Louise Dubin

I had thought it had to be a somewhat abbreviated breakfast/lunch thing yesterday, because of the holiday, or more specifically, our holiday schedule: The idea was to serve the main meal of the day much earlier than we did, and I had also not yet decided how I would prepare the featured venison – or what I would prepare to go with it. In the end however it was to be at least 6 more hours before we sat down to dinner.

• four eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm, Carlisle, NY, at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market (now closed until spring); pea shoots from Windfall Farms; Maldon salt; freshly-ground black pepper; 2 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods; toasts of a ‘baguette sarasin’ (buckwheat flour bread) from Eric Kayser; and the aromatic seasoning blend called L’eKama (served on the side)
• the music was Heinrich Schütz, ‘Weihnachtshistorie’, Hans-Christoph Rademann directing the Dresden Baroque Orchestra and 

the Dresdner Kammerchor, first performed in 1660, in Dresden

It was the eve of Christmas, or just plain December 24th. We’d had our fish the night before (well, it was a Friday in Christendom), so I opted for a vegetarian pasta dish, but I introduced it with a few ounces of meat.

• La Quercia Speck Americano, described as ‘applewood-smoked prosciuto’ (3 ounces), from Whole Foods, drizzled with olive oil, Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’, from Buon Italia, maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a squeeze of sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• served with a wonderful ‘baguette sarasin’ (buckwheat flour bread) from Eric Kayser

• eight or so ounces of a local pasta, Sfoflini Malloreddus, cooked al dente, drained and mixed with a sauce which had been prepared by heating 4 tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter until it had stopped sizzling, after which 10 small fresh sage leaves, chopped, were added along with 8 ounces of John D. Madura Farm sliced shiitake mushrooms, the mushrooms sautéed until soft and golden brown and seasoned with salt and pepper, the sauced pasta mixed with almost a quarter of a cup of shredded Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia, served in shallow bowls with additional cheese on the side
• the wine was an Oregon (Umpqua Valley) red, Scott Kelley Pinot Noir Oregon 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was WKCR streaming, specifically, its 9-day ‘Bach Festival 2016‘, which included Simone Dinnerstein performing his ‘Inventions & Sinfonias’, BWV 772-801

It’s only one fish, not 7 [as in Festa dei sette pesci], but then it wasn’t actually Christmas Eve, and it also wasn’t particularly Italian, but it was a small feast.

The basic recipe, with only slight alterations, and without the salad and croutons, is from this site.

I had intended to begin cooking the fillets with their skin side down, as specified in the recipe, but inadvertently began with the flesh side. I’m not certain how much of a difference it made, but I expect to find out the next time I use this delicious, fairly subtle recipe for a great fish.

• two 6-ounce John Dory fillets from Pura Vida Seafood marinated in a shallow bowl for about half an hour in a mixture of half of a crushed garlic clove from Stokes Farm; one teaspoon of shredded leaves from a Full Bloom Market Garden basil plant from Whole Foods; the juice and zest of less than an eighth of a blood orange, also from Whole Foods; one half of a teaspoon of walnut oil; maldon salt; and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the marinade and placed flesh side down inside a large, tin-lined oval copper in which a little olive oil had been heated over a moderate-to-high flame, the heat immediately reduced slightly, the fish cooked for about 2 minutes, then turned and cooked for another 3 on the skin side, removed and served with a small bunch of pea shoots arranged at one end
• one very small leek from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut lengthwise down the center, rinsed well under cold water, dried, chopped into small pieces, some of the greener parts at the top reserved, cooked in heated olive oil until wilted, eight or ten Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, quartered, slipped into the pan and barely heated, and a generous amount of chopped thyme from Keith’s Farm, salt, and sugar added and stirred into the vegetables, served with the reserved uncooked sliced leek sprinkled on top along with some of the chopped thyme that remained
• the wine was a California (Napa Valley) white, Matt Iaconis Chardonnay Napa Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Luigi Rossi’s ‘Orfeo’, with the Choir and Orchestra of Les Arts Florissants, in a performance which, more than any I had ever before experienced, told me what a brilliant artist can do to raise a great work of art from the sleep to which it might otherwise might have remained condemned forever.

There are few dishes simpler to put together than this one, and almost none which would be as satisfying – regardless of how hungry a diner might be.

Last night I didn’t have a thin pasta like bavette, a linguine fini, or even a penne, each of which I believe I have sometimes used over the years, so I cut open a one-kilo package of bigoli instead and weighted out 8 ounces. I thought I had violated a tradition in using these thick long tubes, but when I went on line later to check on what the classic cacio e pepe was, I came across a number of sites describing bigoli as the pasta of choice.

There also seems to be some disagreement about the cheese of choice: Most recipes indicate pecorino, some pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and I’ve also seen ‘Cacio di Roma’ paired with pecorino Romano.

I’ve generally gone with pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano myself, because that’s where my experience with this dish started, 15 years ago, and also because I have a soft spot for Amanda Hesser and her food writing.

The recipe is quite simple, and I’ve never really wandered from the original, described here, although without the charming introduction included in the original, 2002 article in the New York Times.

These are the ingredients I used this time:

• eight ounces of Setaro Bucatini from Buon Italia; Baleine coarse sea salt; almost a quarter cup each of pecorino Romano from Whole Foods and Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia; 2 tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter; 2 tablespoons of Greek olive oil from Trader Joe’s; one full tablespoon of black pepper, coarsely ground as usual [in my ancient wooden mortar and pestle]
• the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Phillippe Wines
• the music was Rameau’s one-act acte-de-ballet, the 1754 ‘Anacreon’, Jonathan Williams conducting the Orchestra Of The Age Of Enlightenment and the Choir Of The Enlightenment

This was another easily-assembled meal, and one which is always regardless of what subtle variations I’ve made to the basic recipe.

Brussels sprouts always seem to be a great accompaniment, even for fish.

• two 8-ounce swordfish steaks off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, out of East Islip, from Long Island’s American Seafood Company stall in the Union Square Greenmarket), marinated for about half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, a tiny bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, and a very small amount of a very thinly-sliced small red onion from Phillips Farm, drained well and covered with a coating of dried homemade bread crumbs, pan-grilled above a fairly high flame for about 3-4 minutes on each side, removed, seasoned with salt and pepper, removed to the plates, sprinkled with a little local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Windfall Farms, and drizzled with olive oil
• small Brussels sprouts from Hoeffner Farms, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, spread, without touching each other, onto a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, then roasted in a hot oven (400º) for about 20 minutes until slightly browned and crisp on the outside (they taste surprisingly sweet, and a bit nutty), finished in the pan with a small splash of balsamic vinegar

 

• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) white, Muga Rioja Blanco fermentado en barrica 2015
• the music was Christoph Willibald Ritter von Gluck‘s fully ‘reformed‘ 1779, opera, ‘Iphigénie en Tauride‘, performed [here the full-length recording] by Marc Minkowski and Les Musiciens du Louvre

This was the first fully-prepared meal I have been able (allowed) to put on the table since cutting off the tip of my index finger in a kitchen accident on the 7th, and I relished every bit of it.

In preparation, I went to the Greenmarket the day before, fairly late, as I had only to pick up a vegetable; I already had everything else I would need for the next day, whether I ended up deciding on meat (frozen Greenmarket pork) or fish (frozen Greenmarket crab cakes).

I picked one of the last fresh bunches of greens, purple mustard, reminding myself how good it was to still be able to enjoy such a treat near the end of December.

The meal, I had decided, should still be pretty simple, since I would be wearing a latex glove on my right hand to protect a bandage. In fact, like the one I had pulled off two days before, it could actually have been assembled with that hand behind my back. I’m just glad I didn’t have to.

• two thick 9-ounce pork chops from Tamworth pigs from Grazin’ Angus Acres (heritage Tamworth pigs), thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy enameled cast-iron pan, 2 pieces of a floral-scented heatless orange habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm that I had dried this fall, placed on the top surfaces before half of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island was squeezed over them, after which the lemon was left on the surface of the pan between the chops, which were then placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over the top once again and once again replaced in the pan), the finished chops removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, some pea shoots/sprouts from Windfall Farms arranged around them, some of the pan juices poured over the top of the chops, the remainder poured into a sauce boat for use at the table
• purple mustard greens (well, at least the pot liquor was purple-ish) from Norwich Meadows Farms, wilted in a little live oil in which one clove of  garlic from Stokes Farm, halved, had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• pickled red beets from Millport Dairy Farm

 

• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Boris Ivanovich Tischenko’s Symphony No. 8, and his Concerto for Violin, Piano and String Orchestra, with soloists Mila Shkirtil, Mezzo-Soprano; Chingiz Osmanov, Violin; and Nikolai Mazhara, Piano, with the St. Petersburg State Symphony, Edward Serov conducting

I had managed to cut off the end of my most important digit while using a mandoline to put this meal together 11 days ago. Knowing something had gone wrong, I immediately pressed index finger and thumb together very firmly and finished preparing the potatoes before I stopped to check the damages. They were considerable, but the meal was terrific, even if I have to assume that I was literally a part of it.

I’ve had to keep the wound dry and I was told it could not be covered with a latex glove until it had totally closed and was pretty secure, so making dinner, even washing the dishes of a made dinner, has been out of the question until, well, yesterday.

On Friday I was told that I would probably be told Monday that I was now free to do stuff in the kitchen, and that’s what happened, but that day was my birthday, and we dined out with friends Michelle and Felix, at Faro, in Bushwick. No kitchen for me that day.

But I had actually jumped the gun, a little, the night before.

I had not prepared a real meal in 11 days, but on Sunday I was determined to do something very easy that might also include a lot of perishable vegetables I had around that were about to go beyond their natural expiration date.

The baked egg dish I whipped up with one hand tied behind my back (never touched anything with my injured finger) turned out super, and it did virtually empty the shelves.

I’m not sure I’m remembering everything that went into the mix, which I baked in the oven at 375º for about half an hour, but it certainly included olive oil; 4 or 5 small scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm; a few ounces of Colameco’s uncured diced pancetta from Whole Foods; torn arugula from Lani’s Farm; a few tablespoons of organic heavy cream; one tiny hot yellow pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm; 8 eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; 15 cherry tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, Carlisle, NY, at Chelsea’s [Down to Earth] Farmers Market; salt; pepper; black oil-cured olives from Whole Foods; finished with some Hong Vit micro radish and a very small amount of pea shoots/sprouts, both from Windfall Farms, scattered on top once the eggs had been plated; a small jar of an aromatic seasoning blend called L’eKama placed on the table with the eggs

This hearty ‘fish and potatoes’ dish has been one of our favorites ever since I saw the Mark Bittman recipe in the Times in 1999 (By the way, I’ve learned to use only about two thirds of the suggested amount of olive oil;  any more than that and you’ll probably find the potatoes swimming in it at the end).  We never tire of the dish, and only partly because it can be prepared with so many different kinds of fish, basically any white fish. In Bittman’s list, “Monkfish works very well . . . . But other fillets will give similar results, including red snapper, sea bass, pollock, wolffish, even catfish.”

The fish has to be absolutely fresh, as it certainly was here, and it helps when the olives are the right kind (ideally, black, oil-cured, like those commonly labelled ‘Moroccan’), and when the potatoes end up slightly crisp on the edges (I almost never peel potatoes anyway, and certainly not for this recipe).

• the thick 14-ounce hake fillet was from American Seafood Company in the Greenmarket; the potatoes were Red Norland, from Norwich Meadows Farm; the black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia; the 15 Sicilian bay leaves from Buon Italia
• the beautiful purple Winterbor kale, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, was wilted in olive oil where one garlic clove from S. & S.O. Farm, lightly-crushed and cut into 4 segments, had been heated and allowed to begin to color
• The wine was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lodi) white, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2015, by Alexandra Farber
• the music was Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s ‘Medee’, William Christie directing Les Arts Florissants

I had picked up a Sardinian pasta, ‘Malloreddus’, a while back, but hadn’t figured out what to do with it.  Last night I decided to pull it out of the larder anyway. I still hadn’t worked out a recipe, but while looking around on line, I saw something about a traditional treatment involving a mint and pecorino cheese sauce.

I had the ingredients, and it sounded minimal and respectful of what I had assumed – correctly as it turned out – would be the rather subtle saffron flavor of the pasta.

It was lovely; a delicious macaroni and cheese.

I have two to add 2 notes to this recipe:

1. The suggestion, ‘pecorino’ didn’t specify what kind of ewe’s milk cheese was to be used. It was only after slowly heating pieces of my grating pecorino in the cream and finding it never really dissolved, did I realize I should have used softer form of the cheese, but the solids didn’t affect the flavor or enjoyment of the final dish.
2. I suspected the saffron element of the Malloreddus itself might not be very noticeable, I added some threads from my own stock in the spice cabinet; I could have used a little more for even better effect.

• eight ounces a local pasta, Sfoflini Malloreddus, cooked al dente, drained, mixed with a sauce which had been prepared by heating 3 or 4 ounces of a young (ideally) pecorino from Whole Foods, cut into small chunks, inside a small saucepan with about half of a cup of heavy cream until the cheese melted, and kept warm while the pasta was cooking, then, just before mixing, a generous amount of torn leaves of peppermint from Alex’s Tomato Farm at Chelsea’s ‘Down to Earth Farmers Market’ added to the pecorino cream, pasta and sauce seasoned with freshly-ground black pepper (the saltiness of the cheese makes any additional salt unnecessary)

And then, because we hadn’t yet had our fill of cheese, we had, cheese – and fruit.

• bosc pears from Terhune Orchards, and, left to right in the picture, ‘Herve Mons’ Ovalie Cendrée (Poitou-Charentes) goat cheese from Whole Foods, Consider Bardwell Farm’s ‘Danby’ cow cheese, and their (unnamed) blue goat cheese

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2014
• the music thoroughout was Handel’s ‘Deidamia’  Alan Curtis directing Il Complesso Barocco