It was almost an insalata caprese, but instead of a mozzarella, the cheese was a local fresh chevre (from a small producer I’ve enjoyed supporting since their fantastic  goat milk cheeses first arrived at the Union Square Greenmarket around 10 years ago).

And it was almost a pork chop, except the meat wasn’t pork but local veal (a ‘by-product’, so to speak, of a farm which produces some of our other favorite local cheeses, since only the girl cows produce milk).

The tomatoes were selected from Franca Tantillo’s beautiful multi-table spread inside her Berried Treasures stall at the Union Square Greenmarket,

and The basil, roots still attached, came from Stokes Farm.

The first course was simple, very simple, but the ingredients made it sublime.

• a terrific chevre from Ardith Mae Farmstead, founded by Todd and Shereen Wilcox, arranged on a plate with sliced heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, torn basil, off of a live plant from Stokes Farm, scattered on top, and drizzled with a good Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’, from Eataly
• slices of a Balthazar Bakery baguette, from Whole Foods Market
• the wine was an Italian (Veneto) sparkling rosé, Bisol Jeio Prosecco Brut Rose

In the main course, the spotlight was shared by veal chops and sweet peppers (there was a red pepper and a dark green poblano as well as an orange, which is the only one shown here),

and with the peppers there was a bit of Japanese scallion.

• a tablespoon of olive olive drizzled onto a small oval platter, joined by some whole sage (5 or 6 large leaves) from Phillips Farm, some very pungent fennel buds from Berried Treasures Farm, and one chopped Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, the platter then set aside while 2 small but pretty thick veal rib chops (8+ ounces each) from Tony at Consider Bardwell Farm, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper and drizzled generously with olive oil, were placed on an enameled cast iron grill pan that had been pre-heated over a moderately high flame, cooked, turning once, about 6 minutes per side for medium doneness (with a tent of aluminum foil  for much of the time, because of their thickness, to help the process along), transferred to the platter holding the garlic, oil, and herbs, turned to coat, and more olive oil added to the chops, allowed to rest for about 3 minutes, again tented with foil to keep them warm, while several thick slices of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, brushed with olive oil, were added to the grill pan, cooked until warm and beginning to char, turning once, the veal chops arranged on two plates, along with much of the garlic/sage/fennel oil, the lemon slices placed on top
• a few super-sweet, red and orange, ‘Cornito” peppers and one dark green poblano, all from Alewife Farm, cut, after the seeds and membranes were removed, into bite-size pieces, sautéed over a high flame until slightly caramelized, one sliced Japanese scallion and a pinch of crushed dark dried habanada pepper added near the end, the mix tossed with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper and some chopped summer savory from Ryder Farm, and served with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Touriga/Tempranillo 2015, from Naked Wines

 

• the music throughout the meal was the album, ‘Gloria Dresdensis‘, music of 18th-century composers associated with Dresden for at least part of their creative lives (Giuseppi Antonio Brescianello, Johann Georg Pisendel, Johann Adolph Hasse, Johann Friedrich Fasch, Antonio Caldara, Giovanni Battista Sammartini, and Georg Friedrich Händel), performed by the Dresdner Barockorchester

This is a terrific fish, and I’ve said so before. When I came across this site, where the first writer’s story, written only 4 years ago, pretty much sums up the more usual, negative American attitude toward the ‘sea robin’, or ‘gurnard’. Things may finally be changing however, thanks to some savvy fishers and their loyal customers.

Years ago I was on a small party boat fishing for fluke (a client treating myself and some colleagues), and I was really intrigued by these little guys I was pulling up out of the water. I thought they were “pretty and cute”, as one of the folks in that discussion says. The crew on our boat told us they were good for nothing, and tossed them back into the sea.

I now know how to appreciate them, and I have rhapsodized about them at least once before.  I hope that party boat crew has reconsidered its prejudices.

Here are the 9 fillets lying on the counter before they were cooked.

• nine small sea robin fillets, or ‘tails’, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, patted dry, then placed in a pan of sizzling olive oil and sautéed over medium-high heat for barely 2 minutes on each side, transferred to the plates, a little organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed on top, then small spoonfuls of an olive tapenade sauce [see immediately below] spread over or between the fillets, sprinkled with some chopped thyme remaining from the preparation of the tapenade
• the tapenade was made by following this simple recipe; I don’t have a powered food processor, but it’s still easy working with only a chef’s knife; the ingredients were Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, one well-rinsed chopped anchovy packed in salt from Buon Italia, well-rinsed Sicilian capers packed in salt from Buon Italia, freshly ground black pepper, olive oil, and the chopped leaves from a few fresh sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm

On Friday, at her Union Square Greenmarket stand, ‘Berried Treasures’, Franca Tantillo had steered me toward some fantastic, very sweet, juicy, tender, and buttery variety of zucchini she had grown this summer, ‘Costata Romanesco‘, an Italian heirloom variety.

Time for a side trip to Franca’s farm, with this short video, ‘A Day at Berried Treasures Farm with Brendan McHale‘.

At home I handled the vegetable pretty much as I often do when simply grilling summer squash, and they really were everything she had advertised. I also mixed them up with basil rather than some form of mint, as I have lately, mostly because the basil I had was in superb condition, something often difficult to arrange.

Here the squash slices are on the grill pan, after they had been turned the first time.

And here they sit waiting for the sea robin to finish sautéeing.

• two Romanesco zucchini from Berried Treasures, sliced, thickly, on the diagonal, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, finely-chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’ Farm, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, then pan grilled, turning 3 times, on top of a seasoned 2-burner ribbed cast iron plate, arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with leaves from a basil plant from Stokes Farm and thin slices of one small Calabrian medium hot cherry peppers from Alewife Farm, seeds and pith removed (although that removed all of their heat, which I think we would have welcomed) and allowed to rest for a few minutes while the fish was prepared
• the wine was a Spanish (Girona) rosé, Espelt Coralí rosé (100% Lledoner negre [Grenache] grapes), from Manley’s Wine & Spirits
• the music was the album, ‘Hand Eye’, from Eighth Blackbird

It’s all about too much of anything, and in this case, something that doesn’t come cheap, but it’s hard to do portion control when the fish don’t cooperate. I’m not sure about sea bass, but many fish species run in schools.  This time the class was all of a size where 4 fillets were an overly generous portion, but 2 would have been inadequate (I have to bring home an even number), at least without the support of another course or another vegetable. I had time for neither last night.

Since they shrink a bit after they’re cooked, and the size of my vegetable was modest, I don’t think we looked like we were being unreasonably overindulgent once the fillets were on the plates.

Also, they were so good, I had no regrets I that I hadn’t skimped.

The bass just out of the oven.

The radicchio in the pot.

The bread on the cutting board.

• four Black Sea Bass fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, totaling about 19 ounces, placed skin side down inside an enameled cast iron baking pan in which a teaspoon or so of olive oil had been poured, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a mix of parsley and lovage from Keith’s Farm, sage from Phillips Farm, thyme from Stokes Farm, and a bit of a home-dried heatless, orange/gold Habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last fall), the fish topped with a coating of homemade bread crumbs and drizzled with 2 teaspoons of olive oil, placed inside a 425º oven for 8 or 10 minutes, finished on 2 plates with a squeeze of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a light drizzle of olive oil
• one medium head of radicchio from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced broadly, sautéed until barely wilted inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with a little olive oil in which one medium Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm and 2 thin sliced French leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm had already been heated until they had softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a little olive oil
• slices of a terrific ciabatta, made with stone-ground organic unbleached wheat flower, organic corn flower, whole organic oats, salt, yeast, fromfrom Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse at the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Thrive on Routine‘, with performances by the American Contemporary Music Ensemble, including John Luther Adams’ stunning, single-movement piece, ‘In a Treeless Place, Only Snow’

Duck: Fish or fowl? Sometimes it’s been both.

The image above is from Pompei, and while I don’t mean to suggest that the Romans confused waterfowl and seafish, I find it amusing that some later Europeans did.

We’ve been feasting on a lot of fish lately, and even on Wednesday, the night following this meal featuring pan-fried duck breast, when I had a night away from the kitchen, there was seafood. As almost always, it came from New York waters; as almost never, we sat at a long communal table, outside, at dusk, just a block from the Hudson. The venue was Michael Anthony‘s restaurant, Untitled, the dish, cioppino, the terrific main course of a farmer’s dinner which otherwise almost exclusively featured the very fine vegetables of Alewife Farm.

On Tuesday, the day before, we had enjoyed an entrée of duck breast at home, which means I did not prepare seafood. But wait! In some circles duck is considered fish, or at least that was the case during a time when the consumption of fish was a weighty concern through much of the Western world.

Medieval catholics would often really stretch the definition of ‘fish’ in order to be able to enjoy more of their favorite foods on Fridays or fast days, and the duck was considered to be in that category, as was other aquatic life such as geese, puffins, dolphins, and whales. As late as the 17th century, at least in Quebec, the Church officially declared that the beaver, as an aquatic animal and a skilled swimmer, was actually a fish [apparently arguing from “..the ‘Summa Theologica‘ of Thomas Aquinas, which bases animal classification as much on habit as anatomy.“].

I could go on, and, because I had been a Catholic as a child, and have always been interested in every aspect of food, I will. Young rabbits were considered fish and not meat (I do not know why), as were frogs, snakes, and (as of a Louisiana 2010 episcopal decree) alligators.

So we had duck. It didn’t seem at all like fish. It definitely didn’t feel like a fast day.

• one 13-ounce duck breast from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing for about 40 minutes before it was pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, the fatty side down first, for a total of 8 or 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], removed when medium rare (cutting it into 2 portions to confirm that the center was of the right doneness), left to sit for several minutes before being finished with a drizzle of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, then a little chopped rosemary from Phillips Farm and a drizzle of olive oil
• three halved heirloom tomatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, brushed with dried Sicilian oregano and fresh thyme from Stokes Farm, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and olive oil, then pan grilled, arranged on two plates, lemon peppercress scattered around the edges
• cavalo nero (or lacinato or Tuscan cabbage) from Paffenroth Farms, wilted briefly in olive oil in which one clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had first been heated until pungent, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with a little more oil
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Cabernet Sauvignon Sonoma County 2015, from Naked wines
• the music was the album, ‘Wassenaer: 6 Concerti Armonici‘, Richard Jenkinson conducting the Innovation Chamber Ensemble in music of the Dutch diplomat, composer and governing official,  Unico Graf Van Wassenaer, composed in 1740

[the image at the top is from the Milan Museum Guide]

I think I sometimes take flounder too much for granted. It’s easy to cook, and it’s something of a blank slate; It’s lean and somewhat flaky, with a firm texture; it has a mild sweetness, and it can be cooked with the lightest of sauces.

But this time I had to bow my hat to Paralichthys dentatus (or maybe to pseudopleuronectes americanus, since I wasn’t told whether I was buying Summer Founder or Winter Flounder, and I didn’t think to ask Jan while I was at the fish stand): I managed to take home 2 splendid, very fresh fillets yesterday (one, slightly thicker than the other, from the top of the fish, and one from the bottom), and I totally lucked out with the combination of ingredients I found to enhance it.

I’ve read that if you really wanted to appreciate a very fresh white fish, you should try poaching it and serving it with only a bit of salt. I don’t have that restraint, and besides, I have access to so many fresh herbs and seasonings that deserve some appreciation as well.

I’m going to want to revisit this very specific dish again, probably as often as I find I have all of the elements that went into it. It was superb.

The allium was a particularly sweet Japanese scallion.

• two flounder fillets, altogether one pound, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, each divided lengthwise along the line of the spine and then cut crosswise once, making 8 pieces in all, seasoned with salt and pepper on both sides, coated lightly with local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour purchased in the Union Square Greenmarket, then submerged in a shallow bowl containing a lightly-whipped mixture of one egg from Millport Dairy, a fourth of  a cup of whole milk from Millport Dairy Farm, and a pinch of salt, then allowed to stay in the bowl until the accompanying vegetable had been prepared (it was to be served room temperature) and the remaining ingredients for preparing the fish set out, removed from the bowl at that time, placed in a heavy enameled cast iron pan on top of 3 tablespoons of melted butter, several halved large fresh sage leaves from Phillips Farm, one section of a dried, crushed orange/golden dried habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, and 3 sliced Japanese scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed over a brisk flame until golden, about 2 1/2 minutes on the first side, 1 1/2 minutes on the second, sprinkled with juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, transferred onto warm plates, some micro lemon peppercress from Two Guys from Woodbridge scattered over the top

The vegetable was assembled from two sources (I didn’t have enough left in the refrigerator for a meal, so I bought a few more that day).

• several different kinds and colors of baby eggplant, some from Norwich Meadows Farm, the others from Alewife Farm, all cut into quarter-inch to half-inch slices, mixed with a little olive oil, finely-chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled uncrowded on a 2-burner cast iron plate over a brisk flame, turning once, arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with torn basil leaves from Stokes Farm, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, arranged on the plates just before the fish had been finished

The dessert was the simplest – and sometimes the most perfect – ending to a meal, a bowl of local grapes that had just been washed in icy-cold water.

• ‘Interlaken’ seedless green grapes from Locust Grove Orchards [the lighter-colored grapes on the left in the image above]

 

• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was the entire album, ‘Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto, Symphony No.5, Hebrides Overture‘, in absolutely terrific performances by Pablo Heras-Casado conducting the Freiburger Barockorchester, Isabelle Faust the soloist in the concerto

There were 4 at dinner again. The first course repeated the one served the last time, with a tweak from tradition in the insalata Caprese tomato choices.

Also as with that meal, there would be 3 courses, and I was again determined to make the main course something that could be prepared easily enough for me to be a part of the conversation even before we sat down.

When I need to cook enough for 4 people, many fish entrées (and seafood was virtually a given, especially since it was summer) take up an area larger than the surface of any of my pans. The best solution is to pick a fairly thick fish, like tuna or swordfish, or…

Once I spotted the beautiful bucket of striped bass (‘striper’) nestled in a tub of ice at the fishmonger’s stall that afternoon, I knew I had half of my main course picked out.

This great, most American of fish had threatened to disappear from our waters only 30 years ago, but was rescued by the heroic efforts of many good people, mostly fishers, during what some call the ‘Striper Wars’.

This is the view I had of the bass at the fishmonger’s (the clarity of the image is slightly obscured by the scratched plexiglas hinged lid of the tub).

As in the week before, I picked the vegetable for its simplicity, and especially for the fact that it could be prepared ahead of time (in the end however I didn’t actually do it in advance). Also, Barry loves Tuscan kale.

We started, as usual, with breadsticks and a ‘sparkling’, this time a very nice French un-champagne.

• rustic Italian breadsticks, Mario Fongo grissini integrali, from Buon Italia
• the wine was a New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling white, Gruet Brut NV, from Astor Wines & Spirits

The antipasto was an insalata Caprese [see image at the top], which always takes longer to assemble than I expect it to, but it’s worth it every time, since I only venture it when the ingredients are the best and freshest.

• the salad was assembled with sliced heirloom tomatoes from Cherry Lane Farms LLC, and a few halved sun gold cherry tomatoes from Windfall Farms, arranged on 4 plates, alternating with slices of some very fresh ‘mozzarella classica’ from Eataly and leaves of fresh basil from Stokes Farm, sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground Tellicherry pepper, drizzled with a great Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto’ from Eataly
• slices of ‘Pane Paesano’ (unbleached, unbromated wheat flour, water, salt, yeast) from Hill Bakehouse of Gansevoort, NY, at the bakery’s Union Square Greenmarket Saturday stall
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2016, form Naked Wines

The main course plates looked simple, and everything actually was pretty simple.

If there was any complexity in the preparation of the bass, it was only the number of herbs I tossed on top. I knew ahead of time what I was going to do, cobbling it up on my own, with the intention of letting the fish itself be the star. The oven timing was unknown territory however; in the end I used the ‘insert sharp knife in center’ and ‘bounce finger on top’ tests.

Yes, there was an oven involved. I try to avoid turning it on in warm weather, but it would mean less stress, and last night it was pretty mild; there was even a breeze, and we sat at the table in the gallery dining table, away from the kitchen.

The addition of homemade breadcrumbs was an impulse, and it is certainly optional. I was probably thinking I’d like the aesthetic, and the protection that such a coating might offer. Whatever.

This is the bass on the kitchen counter..

..and this is the pan as it was about to be placed in the oven, but before the breadcrumbs.

• one thick Striped Bass fillet (a total of 28 ounces for 4 of us) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, washed, drained, brought to room temperature, divided into 4 equal sections top to bottom, arranged skin side down on the bottom of a ceramic pan resting on a coating of about 2 teaspoons of olive oil, scattered with a mixture of fresh herbs (oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm; thyme from Stokes Farm; sage and peppermint form Phillips Farm; and lovage from Keith’s Farm) plus one partially-crumbled bay leaf, purchased while fresh, from Westside Market [alternatively almost any fresh herb or combination of herbs could be used], sea salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, the bass sections sprinkled with some homemade dry bread crumbs and drizzled with a little olive oil, the pan placed in a 425º oven for approximately 25 minutes, removed when done and arranged on the plates, squeezed with the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods and drizzled with olive oil

The vegetable served with the fish was one of our favorite greens, and it couldn’t be less complicated to prepare.

• more than one bunch of cavolo nero (also known as lacinata, black kale, or Tuscan kale) from Paffenroth Farms, wilted with olive oil and 4 halved large Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, the garlic first heated in the oil until they had became pungent, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, arranged on the plates and drizzled with olive oil

 

• the wine with the main course was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines

The dessert was berries and cream, ice cream.

• blackberries from Locust Grove Orchards, some of them mashed with a little turbinado sugar and a couple teaspoons of Toschi Orzata Orgeat syrup to make a self-sauce, the berries scattered on top of scoops of Brooklyn-made Van Leeuven vanilla ice cream from Whole Foods Market, the sauce drizzled over ice cream and berries

The Culotte.

We’ve been enjoying this cut for many years [the history]; it’s become one of my favorite beef steaks.

I stopped in at Dixon’s in the Chelsea Market a week or so back, looking for two small steaks I might grill on top of the range to accompany a good vegetable. I was very happy to spot a culotte cut inside the shop which had been my source many times in the past. It weighed just under a pound; if I were to cut it in half, it would be exactly the size I had in mind.

Cut into two pieces, and vacuum packaged, I brought it home and froze it, and I’ve been on the lookout ever since for a good opportunity to enjoy these steaks – and also that good vegetable.

The vegetable.

• one 15-ounce sirloin culotte (Picanha), purchased from Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, cut into two pieces, brought to room temperature, seasoned with freshly-ground tellicherry pepper (and sea salt on each side in succession, once they had been sealed), seared briefly on the top, or fat surface, then turned and sautéed for about 4 minutes on each of the 2 sides, then the bottom surface seared briefly, the steaks (now incrementally beyond medium rare, which I would recommend for this cut, as does Dickson’s Adam Tiberio: “As with other intensely beefy cuts, you lose both flavor and tenderness if you serve culotte too bloody;”), removed from the pan and arranged on the plates, juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some olive oil drizzled over the top, a bit of lemon peppercress from Two Guys from Woodbridge scattered on and around each
• a dozen or so ‘lunchbox peppers’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, quartered, or divided further, depending on their size, the seeds and membranes removed, sautéed over a high flame until slightly caramelized, one sliced spring red onion and a pinch of crushed dark dried habanada pepper added near the end, sea salt and a bit of Gotham Greens Rooftop packaged basil from Whole Foods Market tossed in and stirred, the vegetables arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more basil and drizzled with a bit of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a California (Lodi) red, David Akiyoshi Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was the late composer’s later chamber music, from the album, ‘Peter Maxwell Davies: The Last Island‘

The swordfish itself, plus the recipe of course, and, yeah, my modest part (which was just taking it off the grill at the right moment) came together beautifully.

And then there was this incredibly good mustard. I had picked it because it would be quick and easy on a night when I didn’t have much time to put a meal together but it was much, much more than just a placeholder.

• one very fresh 16-ounce swordfish steak from Blue Moon Fish, divided into 2 pieces at home, marinated for half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, one spring red onion from N.J. Jersey Farm Produce, Inc., some chopped fresh oregano buds from Norwich Meadows Farm, and a very small amount of crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, drained well, coated on both sides with some homemade dried breadcrumbs, and pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, removed to 2 plates, seasoned with Maldon salt, some of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed on top, drizzled with a little olive oil, and sprinkled with micro lemon peppercress (yes, it really is lemony, and peppery) from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• one bunch of red mustard from Keith’s Farm, wilted inside a large high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 2 halved cloves of  garlic from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had been allowed to sweat, then seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and a very small amount of crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, finished on the plates with a drizzle of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a bit of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) rosé, Gerbino Rosato di Nerello Mascalese 2016, from Eataly Vino
• the music was the album, ‘Sieur de Sainte-Colombe: Concerts a Deux Violes Esgales’

I would have picked a sausage from Schaller & Weber, since I love patronizing that wonderful Yorkville German food emporium, and Barry was going to be up there in the afternoon, but I was thinking of this as an Italian meal, mostly because of the puntarelle I wanted to serve, so it was the turn of our local Italian outlet, Eataly.

But then the very Germanic potato ended up as a part of the meal after all (although dressed with olive oil rather than butter).

• four links of a wild boar sausage from Eataly (the ingredients were, simply, wild boar, salt, pepper, and wine), cooked by heating them with about a quarter inch of water in the bottom of a covered heavy cast iron pan for about 15 minutes, removing the lid and allowing the liquid to evaporate (although, not wanting to overcook them, on this occasion I poured out most of the now-flavored liquid before continuing, indicating that this technique is a work in process for me), then letting the sausages brown, turning occasionally, in the fat that accumulated with the small amount of liquid that remained until they began to look just a little blistery
• one large, oddly double-spheroid, ‘yellow potato’ from from N.J. Jersey Farm Produce, Inc. in the 23rd Street Saturday farmers market, halved, making 2 rounds, scrubbed, boiled, drained, dried, mixed with a little olive oil and chopped French leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• one small bunch (about 6 ounces) of young puntarelle from Tamarack Hollow Farm, thoroughly washed, the leaves separated and placed inside a large bowl of ice water, where they were allowed to let sit, outside the refrigerator, for about one hour, while, half an hour later, three quarters of a tablespoon of red wine vinegar was placed inside a small bowl with 2 well-rinsed, finely-chopped salted Sicilian anchovies and 2 crushed cloves of garlic from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and allowed to rest for about half an hour, also outside the refrigerator, at which time the garlic was removed from the small bowl and the puntarelle was drained and dried (using towels or a vegetable spinner), placed inside a large dry bowl and the vinegar mixture poured over it, seasoned very lightly with sea salt, one and a half tablespoons of olive oil added, along with freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, the salad mixed/tossed at the last minute and served [NOTE: the puntarelle didn’t curl up as it really should have, probably because it had not been sliced at all, and so did not up as thin as it would have had I been working with a larger bunch, or ‘head’ of this very special chicory]
• the wine was an Italian (Puglia) red, Salice Salentino DOC, from Philippe Liquors and Wine
• the music was from the album, ‘William Christie conducts Charpentier’

This was the very best artichoke-filled pasta I’ve ever had. Among its other virtues, there was no ‘ricotta extender’, so the artichoke flavors were not watered down – or buried by the heirloom tomato sauce.

The quality of those tomatoes was also a big factor in the dish’s success.

• two sliced garlic cloves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, heated in a little olive oil over medium heat inside a large tin-lined high-sided copper pot until the garlic was pungent, joined just before that moment by part of a dried Habanada pepper, crushed, which was stirred for a minute inside the pot, followed by 2 heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm (one a deep red, the other a mottled orange), roughly chopped, and some chopped fresh oregano flower buds, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, the mix stirred a little before 10 or 12 ounces of house-made carciofi-filled ravioli, boiled for barely 3 minutes before being drained, were tossed into the pot with some reserved pasta cooking water, the pasta carefully stirred with the sauce over medium heat for a while to emulsify it, and when ready, served inside 2 shallow bowls, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges [the pasta filling was composed of artichokes; olive oil; cacio de roma, a semi-soft sheep’s milk cheese made in the Roman countryside; parmigiano; anchovy; tomato; parsley; and basil]
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was from the Deutsche Grammophon/DGG album, ‘haydn, “sturm” und “drang”, paris & london symphonies’, the pieces performed by the  Orchestra Of The Age Of the Enlightenment, and the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, Frans Brüggen conducting both