I had a huge variety of seafood to choose from yesterday all at this one Union Square Greenmarket stand, but I knew almost immediately which I would pick.

They are a great seasonal treat in New York, and after some initial skepticism, I’ve grown fond of them.

There’s also this: I’m still not sure why, but even after my third experience with blowfish, when I’m cooking and eating these little ‘tails’ they still evoke the fresh water panfish that I enjoyed growing up in the Midwest, especially the perch and the bluegills. And that’s a good thing.

The fish we had last night I had picked up that morning at the Greenmarket. They had been caught off the eastern end of Long Island, probably in Rhode Island waters, and it had probably been hauled in the day before.

Kitchen hint #1: there was very little or no fish smell after I had fried this fish, but after we had eaten I automatically reached into the cupboard to bring down and open the small, wide mouth container partially-filled with some plain white vinegar that I keep there, and I set it on the counter. It works wonders with even the most powerful food odors, naturally dissipating any cooking smells by morning, and sometimes within an hour or two (it’s magic, and it’s amazing more people don’t know about this nostrum) 

The asparagus however, having started out a little closer to Manhattan, in Orange County, had been waiting inside the refrigerator, for a full 7 days in fact. There it was waiting its turn while I cooking several of the other, more time-sensitive vegetables I had been collecting last week. I’m a sucker for good greens.

Kitchen hint #2: asparagus can actually keep for weeks, their stems trimmed after been brought home, then placed upright inside a vessel large enough to hold them and small enough to hold them upright, in an inch or so of tap water that had sat uncovered for 24 hours (to let the chemicals evaporate), so if you’re doing triage with an excess of good fresh vegetables on hand, it’s probably best to leave the asparagus until last.

The blowfish tails were in the large iron pan only five minutes. The somewhat unfocused images below testify to the low light above the old gas range, but I like their pinwheel symmetry, so they are here.

• eight blowfish tails (a total of exactly one pound) from American Seafood Company, dredged in about 2 ounces of a local Union Square Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills Mills that had been seasoned with plenty of sea salt, fresh-ground black pepper, and about half a teaspoon of Colman’s ground mustard, pan-fried in olive oil about an eighth to a quarter of an inch deep inside a very large heavy cast iron pan, turning over once (cooking about 2 to 2½ minutes on each side), by which time they had turned golden), drizzled with juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, and garnished with micro fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• 18 spears of moderately thick asparagus from Kernan Farms, the tough ends snapped off, and much of the length of the stems on the wider ones peeled, rolled, along with a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm, a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground black pepper, inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 20 or 25 minutes, drizzled with a bit of lemon when they were arranged on the plates
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Greco di Tufo 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was an album of chamber music by Gloria Coates which included ‘String Quartet No. 9’, ‘Solo Violin Sonata’, and ‘Lyric Suite, “Split the Lark – and you’ll find the Music”‘

I wasn’t sure this would work out.

I had been hoping to enjoy an evening meal that would be almost like a day off, or at least something close to it, by putting together a simple pasta. I never take these simple pasta breaks too lightly however, because with a little creativity and a very good pasta, they can be pretty awesome (I think one of pasta’s most appealing qualities of pasta is it’s ability to show off other, often very special ingredients by lightening their intensity with its almost neutral presence, making them both more subtle, sophisticated, and enjoyable.

That’s something like what I was hoping for, and I did have a lot of possibilities in the “special ingredients” category, but then I remembered that I had a small head of Savoy cabbage in the back of the crisper, but I also remembered that it had been there for weeks, probably at least a month and a half. I felt now was the time to use it.

The bit of wine left in a bottle of a Pfalz Scheurebe that I would be using had also been hanging around for a while, but not so long as the cabbage, more like a matter of days than weeks; we had opened it and shared it as an aperitif only the week before.

So there was a chance the whole thing might not work out, but I thought the odds were in favor of its success, and so I didn’t share my initial concerns with Barry.

What I didn’t expect was to be almost bowled over by its goodness when we sat down to eat it. Hurrah for cabbage and German wine!

I used Mark Bittman’s recipe for the pasta, following it pretty much to the letter, although I reduced its proportions by 50%. I used a very different pasta from the one he indicates, and I finished it with lovage rather than parsley, and garnished it further with a bit of chive I had just purchased that day.

• In last night’s (somewhat altered) incarnation of Bittman’s recipe there were 8 ounces of Sfoglini rye trumpets (organic rye flour, organic durum semolina flour, water); 2 cloves of dry garlic from Foragers Market; 2 rinsed salted anchovies, 2 bay leaves, and one dry Calabrian peperoncino, all from Buon Italia; 9 ounces of shredded Savoy cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm; a quarter cup of a Weinhaus Meßmer 2015 Pfalz Scheurebe, from Burrweiler; a bit of dried orange/golden habanada; some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; and scissored chives from Lani’s Farm; and I added a bit of olive oil around the pasta once it had been arranged in 2 shallow bowls
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, Antinori Toscana Bianco Villa Antinori 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Thea Musgrave, Chamber Works For Oboe’, featuring works dominated by Nicholas Daniel on oboe

We had finally gotten our schedules together and we were going to sit down to dinner with a friend we had invited months ago. We expected a lively conversation, so in what turned out to be an excess of precaution, we told him we would either dine at a restaurant or at home. I never really had much doubt it would be the latter, mostly because, especially in the last year or two, I’ve become more confident about cooking generally, and even when it comes to including guests, and less easily stressed about focusing on cooking while also trying to be a part of the conversation.

And then only the day before I finally admitted to myself that I really did prefer cooking and dining at home to almost any restaurant experience, when it was about sharing a meal with friends old or new (and possibly also when it’s only the two of us, but of course this applies only in New York).

As it was, last night I presented a meal slightly more creative than most of those that we enjoy with guests, since normally the risk of a cooking failure or of my being distracted from good conversation keeps me from trying to be too innovative. 

I picked up some skate wings at the Greenmarket that morning, but even before I left the fishers’ stand I was having my doubts about the quantity I had asked for: More than the 6 that I bought would never fit into the pan I had in mind, but a second one would mean my range top would be monopolized by the fish alone. While I could add  that pan, it would complicate everything, including the vegetable I had not yet decided on, and it seemed to me that asking for 3 more skate (giving each of us a serving of 3) seemed indecorous.

I decided I’d make up any deficiency in the quantity of 6 by serving a second vegetable, but then I over heard Jan and Karl talking to each other about having only 9 clams left. My ears perked up: Nine clams would mean a just right 3 for each of us as a raw shellfish appetizer (more would have been even better but I was the one who would have to open them that night, in addition to my other cooking duties. I bought the clams sight unseen; they were large littlenecks as it turned out.

I then went looking for some particularly sweet greens, which is what Barry had answered was his preference when I texted him asking what he would like to go with skate that night. He was remembering the collards we had on Saturday, but lately we’ve been enjoying so many terrific sweet things Brassicaceae. I decided on some beautiful overwintered spinach, mostly because one of the people at one of my favorite vegetable stands was so certain that should be my best choice for sweetness. He was right about the sweetness, and there was a bonus was the tender stems that made the cooked greens look a bit like noodles.

Once I was home it occurred to me for the first time that I might not have to pry open the clams the hard way if I could come up with an exciting approach that would combine them with the skate; at the same time I wouldn’t have to worry about the post-clam downtime Barry and Jesse would have to endure while I prepared the next course. I did a search on line and I came up with this recipe. Although in the end I deviated from it quite a bit, I want to credit chef Ana Grgić for what turned out to be a wonderful entrée.

Yay dinner!  And yay friends!

• six small, yet fairly ‘thickset’ (if that can be said of rays) skate wings, weighing just over 16 ounces altogether, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, coated all over with a local whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills Mills, purchased in the Union Square Greenmarket, that had been seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed in olive oil and a bit of butter, for a couple of minutes or so on each side, inside a heavy rectangular enameled cast iron oven pan, the fish removed to 3 plates and kept warm in a very ‘slow oven’ while a little more than a tablespoons of butter was added to the pan, and 9 good size littleneck clams, also from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, added to the pan, covered loosely with tin foil and cooked until they had opened [these were pretty big, and they didn’t open very widely for me, so I gave them a little help with a knife and they ended up finished very nicely al dente (if that can be said about clams), and so absolutely fresh and delicious], the flame then turned off under the pan and, with the clams still there, allowed to call jsut a bit before a couple tablespoons of butter were added and pushed around with a wooden spatula until melted, then the finely-chopped bulb sections of 5 small ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, the zest from half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, along with a small amount of juice from the lemon, were all stirred around in the pan before the thinly-sliced green leaves of the ramps were tossed in and mixed with the warm sauce, which was checked for seasoning and poured over the warm skate, with the clams arranged around and on top, a bit of chopped Salvia Mandarino (Eng. ‘mandarin sage’, or ‘pineapple sage’) from Stokes Farm sprinkled on the fish, which was garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• a generous amount of overwintered spinach from Lani’s Farm, washed in several changes of water, drained, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which 2 cut up stems of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to soften, the spinach seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, finished on the plates drizzled with a bit more of the olive oil
• there were 2 wines, because, well, we were at the table for hours: the first was a Portuguese (Alentejano) white, Esporão V Verdelho 2016, from Garnet Wines, and the second was also Portuguese (Lisbon), Dory Branco 2016, from Garnet Wines    

There was a sweet.

• ‘slices’ of an almond cardamon pound cake from Bread Alone, in the Unions Square Greenmarket, served with a scoop of Talenti (New Jersey) Vanilla Bean Gelato from Whole Foods Market

 

• the music was our conversation, and it was great fun, plus the Brock Van Wey album, ‘Epilogues for the End of the Sky’, and Robert Crouch’s ‘Sublunar’

I’m not a fan of sweets, but when the attribute shows up, unbidden, in your savory dinner, especially in every part of it, I can take the salute.

Otherwise this meal wasn’t much different than many others I’ve prepared using an extremely easy recipe for pork chops I’ve been working with for years [copied in this 2014 food blog post]. One thing that was new this time was a good closeup image of a very juicy chop, helping, better than the pictures of these dinners I’ve published before, to explain why I’m so fond of the recipe (the word, ‘succulent’ always comes to mind, one that’s not associated with most pork chops served, anywhere).

In fact, 2 images.

• two thick, bone-in loin pork chops (approximately 10 ounces each) from Flying Pig Farms, dried thoroughly, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed over them and left in the pan them while they roasted in a 400º oven for about 12 or 13 minutes total (flipped halfway through and the lemon squeezed over their surfaces once again), removed from the oven, sprinkled with chopped Salvia Mandarino (Eng. ‘mandarin sage’, or ‘pineapple sage’) from Stokes Farm, and the pan juices spooned over the top (there were enough to be transferred to a sauce boat which was brought to the table, along with a ladle)

• six halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-grrund black pepper, gently heated, face down first, then turned, inside a small copper skillet, arranged close to the chops and sprinkled with chopped thyme leaves from Stokes Farm

• Campo Rosso Farm’s last bundle of broccolini (a hybrid cross between broccoli and Gai Lan, aka Chinese broccoli, first created 25 years ago) in the Union Square Greenmarket that day, washed and drained several times in fresh cold water, chopped roughly, sautéed/wilted over a low flame by gradually adding them to a large enameled cast iron pot in which 2 sliced stems of spring garlic from Joh D. Madura Farm had been softened in some olive oil over a moderate flame
• the wine was a California (North Coast) white, David Marchesi North Coast Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was an album of music by Germaine Tailleferre, Bruno Maderna, and Franco Donatoni

It looks a bit unkempt, and perhaps a bit over the top.

Also, I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble these days with yolks that break, sometimes even well after they’ve landed safely in the pan. Although I was very, very careful on Sunday, this time I set a record: 3 out of the 6 refused to stay in place. I’ve just done a little research on line, but all I learned was that there doesn’t seem to be agreement about the cause.

But breakfast was, all of it, scrumptious.

• aside from the green (John Stoltzfoos says they’re green, even though in more official descriptions I always read ‘blue’) Millport Dairy Americauna chicken eggs, there was smoked bacon from the same Amish farm; ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm; beautiful, really bitter young radicchio plants from Tamarack Hollow Farm; eight Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market; lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; a micro red mustard garnish, also from Two Guys from Woodbridge; and slices of a sourdough bâtard from She Wolf Bakery, very gently toasted
• the music was that of the birds in our garden, beyond the open breakfast room window; they were joined inside by Messiaen, his ‘Catalogue d’oiseaux’ and his ‘La Fauvette’, both performed by Anatol Ugorski

For a ‘recipe’ which was originally little more than a sentence I found in a conversation on line about bluefish cookery, this one has really taken off in our kitchen. The header on one of my posts readS, ‘bluefish as I’ve always wanted it to be; turns out it’s Greek’, although I’ve not actually included one of the most particular Greek ingredients, crumbled feta cheese, or at least not yet.

• one 15-ounce bluefish fillet from American Seafood Company, at Chelsea’s Saturday’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, rinsed, cut into 2 sections, rubbed with olive oil and a little Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, placed inside an oval tin-lined copper au gratin pan, sprinkled liberally with a very pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and a bit of dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, covered with one small-to-medium-size thinly-sliced red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a couple handfuls of small, halved, very sweet (candy-like), ripe grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms [and some chopped fresh oregano, if available, although this time it wasn’t], 9 pitted and halved dark olives [I used Gaeta], and several thin slices of lemon [it’s probably best not to be too extravagant in these amounts, as I was this time], baked at 425º for 15 minutes or so, garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• ten ounces or so of pink pearl potatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large still-warm vintage Corning  Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and some absolutely wonderful chopped Salvia Mandarino (Eng. ‘mandarin sage’, or ‘pineapple sage’) from Stokes Farm

• one good-sized bunch of collard greens from Lani’s Farm, washed 3 times, drained, some of the water retained and held aside to be added, if necessary, as the greens cooked, the leaves and tender stems cut roughly, braised together gently until softened/wilted inside a large, heavy vintage, high-sided copper pot in which one sliced stem of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had been heated until it also had softened, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Quinta Do Crasto Branco 2014, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Dame Ethyl Smythe: Chamber Works’

Lunch.

Maybe it’s become a little more regular than I had expected, or let on in this post: focaccia for lunch. On Saturday I brought back a piece from the Union Square Greenmarket large enough for both of us to enjoy, and I happened to have already had on hand 2 different wild greens, one of which had remained from an earlier meal.

• The rosemary focaccia was from Bread Alone
• the fiddleheads were from Willow Wisp Farm, the wild dandelion greens with their 2 buds were from Berried Treasures, and the sliced portion of a stem of spring garlic tossed in was from John D. Madura Farm; together they were dressed with some Frankies Sicilian olive oil, with a little left over for dipping the bread into it
• the music was New Sounds, a 24-hour program produced by WQXR, streaming

I’d never cooked with burdock before, and I’m not certain I did the right thing with it last night, but it was interesting. The ‘chips’ proved to be a little more difficult to get right than all the other roots I’ve prepared this way. I’m just going to have to do more research before I try out this operation again.

The image of freshly-cut burdock root seen below seems to suggest that Willow Wisp Farm, while it’s located (just inside) northeastern Pennsylvania, may be a part of the ‘Black Dirt Region’ conventionally associated with New York’s Rockland County and New Jersey’s Sussex County. I’m going to try to remember to ask Greg Swartz, the farmer, next time I stop by his stand in the Greenmarket.

• one 14-ounce tuna steak from Pure Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, cut into 2 pieces, the ‘tails’ the cut created pinned back onto the rest of the steak sections with toothpicks, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of a tablespoon of a wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, finished with a bit of olive oil drizzled on top, some micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms arranged at one end
• two burdock roots from Willow Wisp Farm (20 ounces before trimming), scrubbed clean and surfaces scraped with a knife, their roots cut into thin rounds tossing them, as they accumulate, into a bowl of cold water in which some lemon juice had been squeezed (in order to keep the now-exposed surfaces of the roots from discoloring), drained when all had been cut, dried on a kitchen towel before being placed inside a dry bowl and tossed with a couple tablespoons of olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and 2 small pieces of dried orange/golden habanada pepper, crushed finely, the chips arranged, separated from each other, inside 2 seasoned ceramic Pampered Chef pans and roasted at 450º for about half an hour, depending on their thickness, until they were at least a bit crunchy
• one tablespoon or more of olive oil was heated over medium heat inside a high-sided heavy antique copper pan, then one sliced stem of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm added, along with 2 small dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, and a quarter to a half teaspoon of whole coriander seeds, the small mix cooked for about 30 seconds to a minute, or until the garlic was both slightly softened and becoming fragrant, the heat turned down to low and 10 ounces of loose baby rainbow chard from Alewife Farm gradually added and stirred until wilted, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-chopped pepper, and arranged on the plates to be finished with a little olive oil
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Sangiovese Rosé Lodi 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Melomania – String Quartets By Women Composers’

At the time I had decided, for a couple of reasons, not to do a post about the dinner in they had appeared last week, but these locally-foraged wild mushrooms are so gorgeous that I’ve decided I had to at least publish an image of them, as they looked in the Greenmarket before I brought half a pound of them home with me.

They’re called ‘pheasant back’ [Lat. cerioporus squamosus], but they’re also known as ‘dryad’s saddle or ‘hawk’s wing’, and all of these names seem appropriate.  Until I saw them on a table at the Windfall Farms stand in the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesday I had never heard of them. While there I also snapped this picture of another wild mushroom, one which I didn’t buy that day, but which I’d cooked before, the ‘wine cap’ [Lat. stropharia rugosoannulata], a name that seems equally as right as that of its neighbor on the table.

This isn’t my regular lunch, but I would like to make it pretty regular, especially because both the ‘bread’ and the green were celebrating spring foraging by including 2 different wild green things.

• one delicious individual ramp and Asiago cheese focaccia from a wonderful bakery institution with wonderful breads reflecting many different cultural traditions, Hot Bread Kitchen
• a handful of wild dandelion from Berried Treasures dressed with some Frankies Sicilian olive oil, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
• the music was Counterstream radio/New Music USA, streaming