Search for puntarelle - 16 results found

pasta con la puntarelle e acciughe

This will be the very last appearance here of the three ‘heads’ of puntarelle that I purchased last Wednesday exactly one week ago as I write this, and which I eventually included in 4 nights of meals (9 servings) before exhausting its wonderful bounty with 2 different recipes.

A great vegetable.

  • two or three roughly chopped cloves of ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm heated inside a large antique copper pot in a few tablespoons of olive oil until softened and fragrant, seasoned with local sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, a couple of rinsed, dried, and filleted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, and a bit of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero, also from Buon Italia, followed by the addition of roughly 9 ounces of the external leaves of several heads of puntarelle from Tamarack Hollow Farm, trimmed of any wilted portions at the bottom, and washed very well in several changes of water (the base of this plant often has sand), parboiled inside a tall stainless steel pot in a large amount of well salted water until just tender, removed with a broad vintage slotted spoon, drained, and cut up very roughly, stirred into and mixed well with the contents of the pot with the puntarelle, then adding 9 ounces of Afeltra penne rigate, cooked until barely al dente in the same water in which the greens had been parboiled, along with almost a full cup of the pasta-vegetable water, mixed well over high heat, allowing the pasta to absorb the flavors and the liquid to have emulsified, when the puntarelle will have partially ‘melted’ into a kind of sauce for the pasta
  • the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) rosé, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was an album of Sinfonie Concertanti by Mozart, Holxbauer, and Pleyel, performed by the Kammerorchester Basel 

scallops, lemon, bronze fennel; tomato, pericón; puntarelle

Dinner was a cinch.

I really went pretty basic with the scallops this time, the tomato was almost as minimal, and the puntarelle have almost become something I could do in my sleep.

But I did manage to include a tiny (edible) bouquet on the plate (a last minute inspiration).

  • eleven sea scallops (14 ounces total) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, rinsed, dried very thoroughly with paper towels then placed in a paper plate to prevent condensation, seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, grilled briefly (90 seconds on each side) in a very hot full size square enameled cast iron pan, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic California lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, arranged on the plates with a sprinkling of scissored bronze fennel, flowers and buds, from Rise & Root Farm
  • slices of a baguette from She Wolf Bakery in the Union Square Greenmarket
  • one small heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, sprinkled on the cut side with sea salt and black pepper, scattered with chopped leaves of pericón (Mexican tarragon) from Quarton Farm, heated gently on bot sides inside a small copper skillet, arranged on the plates with tiny sprigs of pericón flowers planted on top
  • the only real central sections that remained from the puntarelle I had bought last week, and last included in a meal on Friday, prepared from scratch as described in this post, and tossed with a freshly assembled anchovy sauce (they were still delicious)
  • the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Miriam Alexandra California Chenin Blanc 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was Rossini’s beautiful 1821-1822 melodramma giocoso (opera semiseria) ‘Matilde di Shabran’, Riccardo Frizza conducting the Orquesta Sinfonica di Galicia, with Annick Massis and the incredibly beautiful voice of Juan Diego Florez

dolphin, leek, chili, micro scallion; tomato, mint; puntarelle

Paul wanted me to go home with the sea robin, which was actually less than half the price of the dolphin he was selling.

Speaking as my fishmonger, he said that by cooking and then writing about it on this food blog I might be able to expand the market for a very under-appreciated fish, reminding me that it was extremely sustainable (almost certainly related to its unpopularity), and pointing out that while we stood there in the Greenmarket that afternoon, all over the world there were enormous demonstrations about climate change, protests which were not unrelated to the disappearance of species.

I totally respect a fish monger who thinks in terms that not only do not favor his own business but manage to shame his customers, and I’ve prepared more than my share of sea robin (a great tasting fish, by the way), but on Friday I went with the dolphin, promising Paul it would be different next time.

Just then, a guy came up to the stand asked him about a fish he didn’t have that day, and the 3-way, eventually 4-way, conversation moved on to our experiences catching sea robin with hook and line (always inadvertently), and lots of laughter, especially over the surprise of their creepy ‘legs’ and ‘wings’.

I love the Greenmarket.

  • a one pound skinned fillet of local dolphin, or ‘dolphinfish’, from Pura Vida Seafood, a species elsewhere known as orata, or dorade, but in the US commonly referred to by a Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’, (which I try to resist), because Americans, seduced by popular media, would otherwise think of Flipper, halved at home, dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic California lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of what I think is chopped za’atar from Jayne of TransGenerational Farm (I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t now for certain that it was that herb; it may have been an oregano or marjoram, since they all look similar and I had bought all 3 herbs within days of each other; only one of them remains), sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 2 minutes, the former skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for another 2 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a tin-lined copper universal lid for a minute or two, after which some short slices of baby French leek from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm were introduced and very briefly sautéed with the fish before the leek, the habanada, and the fish were arranged on the plates, and the now rich, savory pan juices poured on top, some micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge scattered over all
  • two heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced horizontally, the cut sides seasoned with salt and pepper and sprinkled with torn leaves of spearmint, the gift of a friend
  • some of the puntarelle prepared for a meal 2 days earlier but then set aside because including it would have made the portions too large, tossed now with a freshly assembled anchovy sauce
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson ROX Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was an album of various ‘Concerti Grossi’ by Francesco Geminiani’s, ‘Quinta Essentia’, performed by Concerto Köln

saucisson, tomato; fennel-crusted tuna; puntarelle; spirits

He was visiting New York from London so we were delighted to be able to invite him to dinner last night. Until then, while we had only known John through Twitter, we had come to feel of him as a friend.

On occasions like this I usually try to serve something I can prepare almost entirely ahead of time, but last night I relied on the fact that the tuna steaks I’d chosen as the entrée would be so simple and quick that it’d be almost the same thing. There would probably be some particularly good greens (there were so many kinds in the Greenmarket that day, and I saw and tasted some great September broccoli rabe) or some other vegetable that could be cooked in advance, and I had decided I could avoid the complications a first course would present by accompanying the tuna with a second vegetable.

Well, then I spotted the puntarelle, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. While the dish I had in mind, repeating my Puntarelle alla Romana, can mostly be done ahead of time, it needs a number of processes, and a certain amount of space, and it really should be assembled at the last moment. It also seemed to rule out including anything else on the plate, which meant there would now be 2 courses.

I wanted to include in the meal some very sweet tiny cherry tomatoes that had been camping out on the windowsill for a while, because they were now really at their peak, and because they were beautiful. The problem was that there weren’t really that many of them, and they’d be difficult to arrange on the plates in a way they could easily be picked up, so I brought 3 modest size zucchini home from the market, 2 yellow, one green, with the idea of scattering tomato halves among thin slices of summer squash near the end of the time they’d both spend on a large cast iron grill pan, tossing everything with some torn peppermint leaves when they were done, but then I noticed our guest was expected in a short while and there wouldn’t be time.

Now I had to reinvent the appetizer, but I hadn’t really come up with concept until I had already begun assembling it, so there was some stress involved in the process while at the same time I was trying to engage in the conversation; the result may have had something of an improvisational aspect to it, but it was delicious. Thank goodness for the young trailblazers of the new charcuterie [Walnut Hill Farm in this particular case], and the welcome the Union Square Greenmarket/GrowNYC people have been giving them.

It was a great evening on every count, the credit for which goes to the good Barry and John.

We began with a sparkling rosé while we nibbled on breadsticks and taralli.

The first course:

  • half of a pint of ‘Super sweet 100’ cherry tomatoes from Keith’s Farm, halved, mixed with a bit of finely sliced tropea (sweet Italian red) onion from Alewife Farm, sea salt, black pepper, a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, and a bit of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, arrange on a small mound of red watercress from Dave’s Max Creek Hatchery

  • slices from a loaf of ‘Table Bread’, described as half organic bread flour, half fresh milled whole grain (wheat, spelt, rye, malted barley), water, salt, from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co.
  • rich Vermont Creamery butter from Chelsea Whole Foods [unfortunately they don’t carry the unsalted version – yet, I hope I can add here], for speading on the bead
  • most of a 4-ounce package of Saucisson (‘French style salami’) crafted by Jacüterie with pasture raised pork raised by Walnut Hill Farm, sliced
  • the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, San Felice Vermentino Toscana 2017, from Philippe Wines

The main course.

  • three thick 10 or 11-ounce yellowfin tuna steaks from American Seafood Company [much larger than I normally select, but the problem was getting 3 that looked similar, and were close to the same size], rinsed, dried, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, brushed or ‘paved’ with almost 2 tablespoons of a mix of a generous amount of incredibly wonderful dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, both first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the tuna 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, a scattering of scissored bronze fennel buds and flowers from Rise & Root Farm, and  a drizzle of Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil

  • two ‘heads’ of Puntarelle [cicoria di catalogna], an Italian chicory (about 32 ounces), from Tamarack Hill Farm, the outer straight leaves removed for another time, the remainder cooked pretty much as described on this site; I used ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm, local sea salt, 4 or 5 rinsed and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, a little chopped fresh habanada pepper, one and a half tablespoons or more of Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia (a mix of Langhe white wines), 3 tablespoons or more of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and Whole Foods Market house whole pepper
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2018, from Astor Wines

The dessert.

  • instead of cheese, fruit, or a sweet, the dessert was a selection of very good artisanal liquors, 2 clear, ALB, a 100% neutral corn spirits vodka from Albany; St. George Terroir Gin, “a profoundly aromatic gin with a real sense of place”, from Alameda, California; and one Chicago bourbon, with millet instead of rye or wheat as the secondary component of the mash bill, Koval Single Barrel Bourbon Whiskey
  • raw almonds from Chelsea Whole Foods Market







puntarelle 34 ounces,  > 26, the even less

raab/pork sausage, mustard; potato, pericón; puntarelle

It may be looking a bit less like summer around here, but nothing in the image above is really not a summer thing.

Sunday night we were able to enjoy, for the first time, a fresh sausage created by some venders new to the Union Square this year.

I also managed to have come up with a second, very different puntarelle dish, using a single large ‘head’ of puntarelle, also from the Greenmarket, and I learned a good deal about this extraordinary vegetable in the process.

And I just happened to have a few potatoes that could balance the very different strong flavors of each.

  • “simmer then sear”, read an admonition I spotted somewhere that day (I usually stress over how and for how long to cook sausages), and it became my guide with 4 ‘Summer Broccoli Raab’ pork sausages (1.05 lbs) from Hudson Vally Charcuterie at Raven & Boar farm, made in collaboration with Jacuterie, an artisanal charcuterie company (located just south of them, in Ancramdale, Columbia County): after being placed inside a large pot and filling it with cold water, just enough to cover, they were heated over a medium-high flame until the water had reached a gentle simmer, by which time they were fully cooked, then removed, drained, and dried on a paper towel before being place inside a seasoned cast iron pan over high heat (after its surface had been brushed with a very small amount of olive oil), seared, turning frequently, until colored on all sides, then arranged on the plates with dabs of a rich shallot, garlic, paprika and turmeric mustard, also from Hudson Valley Charcuterie
  • four medium ‘Lilly’ German Butterball new potatoes from Savoie Organic Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still in the still-warm vintage large Corning Pyrex Flameware glass pot in which they had cooked, rolled around inside in a little more than a teaspoon of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with flowering pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm
  • the outer leaves, reserved from the large head of puntarelle purchased from Tamarack Hollow Farm, whose central section had been prepared in a classic Roman fashion that day, trimmed, thoroughly washed and drained several times, and prepared more simply by being wilted, stirring continuously, inside a large antique copper pot in a little olive oil in which 2 medium cloves of ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm had first been allowed to soften and begin to color over a low to medium flame, followed by the addition of a few rinsed and drained Sicilian capers from Buon Italia and 6 or 8 Kalamata olives from Flatiron Eataly, seasoned with salt, pepper, and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was an Australian (Victoria) red, Jen Pfeiffer The Hero Shiraz 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was an album of works by the 18th century Bohemian composer, a student of Vivaldi, František Jiránek: ‘Concertos and Sinfonias’, performed with period instruments by Collegium Marianum (period instruments) under the direction of Jana Semerádová