It was the 4th of July.

We were about to enter the fourth month of the Coronavirus pandemic lockdown.

It wasn’t a cookout (it wouldn’t have been a cookout even without the virus), but it was a great steak and there were some luscious oven fries, very very good steak and very very good oven fries. Also some lovely friar’s beard.

I almost always buy locally-farmed meat, whatever the species, but there was good a reason for making an exception this week.

It was a Kansas steak (which seems to have a certain caché). That is, it was a steak from Kansas, specifically, a cut of eastern Kansas Black Angus beef, a prime strip steak, dry-aged. It would normally have been very expensive, but this particular steak, purchased from Eataly, was, at 19 ounces, enough for 2 generous portions, and it was hugely discounted. It cost us only $20, or less than half the conventional price.

I don’t think I had ever cooked a true dry-aged steak, or even eaten one. This may have been my first, but it’s unlikely to be my last.

It was wonderful, from first to last, from the scent that began almost the moment it began to warm in the oven, until the tastiness of the very last bite.

• two 9 1/2-ounce Creekstone Farms Prime Dry Aged New York strip steaks from Eataly, brought to room temperature, seasoned on both sides with local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company sea salt and some very good freshly-ground black pepper, reverse seared, meaning they were placed on a small metal rack inside an oval La Chamba pan and placed, this time, inside a 275º oven for only about 25 minutes, or until an instant thermometer poked into the center read only 90º to 95º, for an ultimate medium rare, or a bit beyond that, noting that the steaks finish cooking inside a skillet and continue to increase in temperature [I would normally prefer a still lower oven temperature, but I was going to have to juggle the requirement of the steak with that of the potatoes, which would need a 450º oven for about half an hour; in any event I was surprised the steaks cooked so quickly, but the explanation, I now realize, was that they had been dry aged], the steaks then removed, allowed to wait on a warm plate, covered with tin foil, for, say, up to about 45 minutes, which helps in juggling the cooking of the accompanying vegetables, their preparation finished by being placed over high heat on the surface of a very well seasoned small antique cast iron pan that had been coated with a very small amount of cooking oil, an oil with a higher smoke point than olive oil (alternatively a bit of ghee, or a combination of butter and olive oil),  (I used Mac Nut macademia nut oil, from Whole Foods Market, by itself), and remembering that the steak was already fully cooked, and only needed to be inside the pan long enough to acquire some color, seared briefly (a minute and a half or 2 minutes on each side), removed from the heat, allowed to rest for up to 10 minutes on 2 warm plates, covered loosely with foil, some lemon juice squeezed on top, the steaks sprinkled with chopped epazote from Windfall Farms and drizzled with a Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil
• three large “red potatoes” from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, scrubbed, cut into wedges, tossed with a small amount of olive oil, roasted, once the steaks had been removed and the oven temperature increased to 450º, for about 30 or 35 minutes along with some crushed dried aji dulce pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm and several unpeeled mature garlic cloves from Westside Market, finished with a combination of chopped lovage and chopped parsley, both from Norwich Meadows Farm
• 8 ounces of agretti from Willow Wisp Farm, parboiled in a pot of salted water for 7 or 8 minutes, or until the thicker stems had softened, drained, then either heated in a pan with a little olive oil, adding most of the juice from half of a medium lemon, or, once parboiled, merely combined with the olive oil and lemon (in either case, it can be served warm or room temperature, and with the option of a small washed, rinsed, and filleted anchovy)
• the wine was a phenomenal Italian (Tuscany) red, Fattoria Montellori Salamartano Toscana IGT 1998, purchased from the mailing list of New York Vintners 

Gladys Swarthout, as Plentiful Tewke

• the music was a very American, neglected mid-century work, Howard Hanson’s 1935 opera, ‘Merry Mount’, in a performance by the Seattle Symphony, conducted by  Gerard Schwarz

[the second image is from the Hanson opera’s Wikipedia entry]

Piece of cake.

I have been neglecting this blog for months, first because I just got distracted by other stuff, and because I didn’t want to spend as much time on it as it demands. Then it was because of the additional perturbations that arrived early in March, those related to the pandemic, whose distractions were especially severe for those of us in New York.

And then near the end of May I burnt my left hand very seriously (2nd and 3rd degree, but now almost fully healed), and my calendar was suddenly even more full.

But it was a cooking accident, so at least I stayed on subject.

And I did keep cooking.

I quickly learned that preparing an ambitious meal with one hand requires a certain amount of kitchen experience, a bit of planning, some dexterity, and occasionally the opportunity of borrowing one or more of your partner’s limbs (I’m recalling me carving some sturdy, crusty bread while he was holding the loaf itself).

I’ve been making proper dinners for Barry and myself virtually every night, with the heroic assistance of the people working with GrowNY, everyone who made the Union Square Greenmarket safe and more vital than ever, and the many stores that were making home deliveries of goods I was unable to access in person. Our equally valorous doormen were lifesavers.

We are both extremely vulnerable to the virus, so my now one visit a week to the local open-air greenmarket was our only direct access to food supplies.

I think we only ordered pizza 3, maybe 4 times, in these 3 months, and some of the argument included wanting to support out wonderful local people.

We enjoyed a particularly enjoyable home-cooked meal last night, and it was also the first time the entrée, swordfish au poivre, had appeared on the blog, so it seems to be a good candidate for re-engagement [the recipe came from Florence Fabrikant, in the New York Times]

It was also a celebratory meal, as it marked the return to service of the hand that had been decommissioned over 3 weeks earlier and which had been wrapped in gauze until yesterday, but the recipe wasn’t complicated, and it might even have been accomplished with one hand.

• eleven ounces of swordfish steak, one inch thick, from Pura Vida Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, halved, dusted lightly with sea salt on both sides, and sprinkled with nearly a tablespoon of crushed black the pepper, also on both sides, pressing salt and pepper into the fish, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy tin-lined copper skillet over a medium flame until barely cooked through and still a bit pink in the center (about 2-3 minutes on each side), transferred to a platter or an oven dish just large enough to fit the fish (I used an oval Barro negro pottery dish I’ve had for years, from Oaxaca, Mexico), transferred to an oven that had been preheated, set at its lowest temperature (which might be 150-200 degrees, depending upon the appliance), its door immediately closed and the oven turned off, then half a tablespoon of butter added to the skillet, and, when it had melted, one modest portion, chopped, of a fresh spring shallot from from Lani’s Farm added and sautéed, stirring briefly, until translucent, for perhaps one minute, one fourth of a cup of cognac (I have a small bottle of Courvoisier V.S.) added, swirled in the pan a minute or so until somewhat reduced and a little syrupy, followed by one third of a cup of local Organic Valley heavy cream and a modest amount of chopped parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm, the liquid allowed to continue cooking, while being stirred, until it had thickened somewhat, removed from the heat, the swordfish removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, the sauce spooned on top
• a colorful mix of 9 or 10 ounces of a variety of new potatoes (various sizes as well so the larger first quartered or halved) from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, boiled, unpeeled, in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, inside the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed there with a little butter, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sprinkled with chopped tarragon from Rise & Root Farm, and arranged on the plates
• a handful of garlic scapes (6 or 8) from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, trimmed at each end, rolled in olive oil, salt, and pepper, pan grilled, arranged curled on the plates
• the wine was a French (Loire/Touraine) red, Chinon ‘Les Terrasses’ Lambert 2017, from Astor Wines 

There was a cheese course, 2 terrific goat cheeses I had bought that Wednesday from a new Greenmarket vendor, and I will definitely be seeking them out regularly

• ‘Signal Rock’, a light, blue-veined goat cheese from Miracle Springs Farm, in Gallatin, NY and also their ‘Fault Line’, Taleggio style goat cheese, a garnish of chopped tarragon
• slices of a rye ciabatta from Brooklyn’s Runner & Stone Bakery
• the wine was a French (Anjou and Saumur) rosé, Rosé, Cabernet de Saumur, Réserve des Vignerons 2019, from Astor Wines 

• the music throughout was various works by Florence Beatrice Price

I love radishes. This bowl of pasta boasts 3 forms of radish.

• two tablespoons of homemade breadcrumbs (a stash that had been set aside separately because it they had come from some darker, pretty sturdy bread) added to a cast iron skillet in which a tablespoon of olive oil had been heated over a medium flame, toasted, stirring frequently, until golden and crisp (only a minute or two), transferred to a small bowl and mixed with a little lemon zest, then set aside while the pasta was prepared: eight ounces of really good Setaro Penne Rigate from Buon Italia, cooked al dente inside a large pot of boiling salted water and drained, with one cup of pasta cooking liquid reserved, added to a sauce which had begun with a few ounces of oblong French Breakfast radishes from Alewife Farm, sliced lengthwise into 4 sections, sautéed in a tablespoon of olive oil over medium-high heat inside a large antique copper high-sided pan until they were tender and beginning to brown in spots (about 2 minutes), the radishes removed to a small bowl and a little more oil added to the pan together with one sliced stem of spring, or green, garlic from Lani’s Farm, the allium stirred until fragrant, which was basically a matter of seconds, followed by the addition of the fresh radish greens, removed from the roots when purchased, washed earlier in several changes of water then roughly chopped, along with almost a cup of the reserved pasta cooking water, the leaves stirred for a few seconds, until only beginning to wilt, the cooked pasta itself now added and mixed in with the greens, stirring, the reserved pasta water poured over it, and the mix stirred until the liquid had emulsified, the reserved radishes themselves now tossed in, followed by a half tablespoon or so of lemon juice and some sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch of dried smoked serrano pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, the sauced pasta arranged in 2 shallow bowls, sprinkled with the bread crumb mixture prepared earlier, the edges drizzled with a little olive oil, garnished with purple micro radish from Windfall Farms

• the wine throughout was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Quevedo Family Alvarinho 2018, from Naked Wines

• the music was a beautiful 1801 opera by a beautiful Johann Naumann (1741-1801, his last, of 23, ‘Aci e Galatea’, Frieder Bernius conducting his  Barockorchester Stuttgart

April 16

They were small, but they took grill marks like never before.

• eighteen smallish sea scallops (14 ounces total) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way through to accommodate tiny spoonfuls of a mixture of some fresh chopped fresh epazote and a bit of spring garlic, both from Lani’s Farm, a pinch of crushed dried aji dulce pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, a little local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company sea salt, and a bit of whole black pepper, all having been first chopped together very finely then removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste [the ‘stuffed’ scallops not rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil as the original recipe had specified and I had done in the past, so that this time there really were serious ‘grill’ marks], drained, pan grilled in an enameled cast iron pan for about 1 1/2 minutes on each side, removed to 2 dinner plates, finished with a squeeze of lemon and a drizzle of olive oil
• something like a salad of dressed red watercress from Max Creek Hatchery combined, as a last minute thought, chopped with one very ripe mahogany-colored heirloom tomato from Shushan Hydroponic that had been heated in olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and sprinkled with a few chopped leaves of an oregano plant, also from Shushan Farm, then sprinkled with some toasted fresh breadcrumbs remaining from an earlier meal
• the wine was a French (Loire/Anjou and Saumur/Anjou) white, Anjou Blanc ‘Les Grandes Brosses’, Château de la Roulerie 2018, from Astor Wines
• the music was an album that included Beethoven’s Symphony No. 8, Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini overture, and Mark-Anthony Turnage’s Piano Concerto, in performances by the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin  

April 15

Joyeuses Pâques!

It was easter morning, and our first music of the day was French.

I would be serving a roast later, so I skipped the bacon part of our bacon and eggs, substituting some juicy lightly dressed red cress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery.

The eggs themselves, from Millport Dairy Farm, enjoyed a scattering of red-vein sorrel from Norwich Meadows Farm, and the ‘un-toast’ was slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone.

It looks like I used a bit of Aleppo pepper on the eggs, but also a more conventional ground black pepper, which should probably be regarded as heresy.

• the wonderful music was André Caplet’s ‘Le Miroir de Jésus (Mystères de Rosaire)’ [described as, “..l’un de ces chefs-d’oeuvre atypiques, fruits de l’esprit nouveau qui soufflait dans les premières décennies du XX^e siècle…” – Le Monde], in a performance with Esther Choi, mezzo-soprano, the Hanoverian Girl’s Choir, Teresa Zimmermann, harp, and the ensemble Il Gioco col suono, heard streaming from Yle Klassinen

April 12