The single dolphin fillet was a little smaller than that I’d usually prefer to get for the two of us, but while I was at the fisher’s stand I couldn’t figure out how to bring home more without messing up the aesthetic of the plate. Fortunately I had some wonderful vegetables to help fill in.

I also now realized I had two Mexican herbs, epazote (‘Mexican tea)’ and pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’), to help pull together a meal I ended up feeling had something of a subtle Mexican theme, even more so after the fact: These 2 herbs, plus the dolphin (‘dorado‘), an important fish in Mexico, and the inclusion of a Mexican lemon and some fresh habanada pepper (which was bred from the habañero, native to the Yucatan as well as elsewhere in Central America) didn’t make it a Mexican meal, but it was fun enjoying what they did make of familiar ingredients, and they sure helped make it a good meal.

The herbs appear below as they did in the Union Square Greenmarket, the pericón first, then the epazote (in the center).

• one 10.5-ounce-ounce dolphin fillet, without skin, from Pura Vida Seafood Company, dry-marinated for 45 minutes or so covered with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped fresh parsley from Phillips Farms, plus some local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 3 minutes, then turned over and the other side seared for 3 more, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a universal copper lid for a minute or two, and when that was removed, the fish joined by some very thinly sliced garlic scapes from Phillips Farms, only a portion from one pepper of chopped fresh habanada, (a little goes a long way, as with most seasoning peppers) and some chopped leaves of pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, which were together very briefly sautéed along with the fish before it was removed from the pan, followed by the scapes, the habanada, and the herb, and arranged on the plates, with the little bit of rich, savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish from the pan

• roughly 11 ounces of small ‘red potatoes’ from Lani’s Farm, harvested – and purchased – late in July, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, halved, then rolled in a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, and some chopped fresh epazote from TransGenerational Farm, more of the herb sprinkled on top once the potatoes were arranged on the plates

• one small bunch of young, trimmed, washed, drained, and chopped Redbor kale from TransGenerational Farm, wilted with olive oil in which 2 plump, and still a bit juicy in August, ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves, also from TransGenerational Farm, had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, black pepper, a bit of crushed dried peperoncini Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and drizzled with a bit more olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) rosé, Muga Rosado 2018, from Philippe Wine and Spirits
• the music was an album of three very late eighteenth-century Scottish trios by the Czech/Austrian composer Leopold Anton Kozeluch

Pretty in pink.

How did Americans get saddled with the celery equivalent of supermarket tomatoes or apples? It seems it’s for pretty much the same reasons, as I learned this week:

In the 1930s growers shifted to varieties derived from Giant Pascal, such as Tall Utah, that were more resistant, productive and kept well. This “Pascal celery” was also cheaper to grow because it produced high-quality green stalks without blanching, similar to what we eat today,…

[today] Just a few California farms produce heirloom or unusual celery. Martin’s Farm in Salinas grows Giant Red, an heirloom that looks like rhubarb, and Dorato Gigante, a yellowish-green variety from Italy. “They have profound, intense flavor only hinted at with the current kind of celery,” said farmer-owner Martin Bournhonesque. – from a recent article in the Los Angeles Times

Last night we learned a little about one alternative, thanks to Chris Field & Jessi Okamoto of Campo Rosso Farm.

I think it’s a pretty spectacular illustration of what cannot be found in an the American supermarket:

And then the fun began.

(continuing while waiting for the spring garlic to soften)

• one medium size minced shallot from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on West 23rd Street, heated, stirring, over a moderate flame in a couple tablespoons of olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until softened and fragrant, then one bundle of small Chinese pink celery from Campo Rosso Farm, trimmed, the stems cut into pieces on average an inch long, some of the more tender leaves chopped and set aside to be added near the end, stirred in and cooked until softened to the table’s preference and a pinch or so of some of the (now powdered) remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper that had been purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm in 2017, followed by the addition of 10 ounces of Afeltra Spaghettone (a long Neapolitan pasta slightly fatter than spaghetti), cooked only until al dente, along with most of a cup of its cooking water, stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, the pan removed from the heat, some zest and a little juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon gently introduced, seasoned with some local Long Island sea salt (from P.E. & D.D. Seafood), and freshly ground black pepper, tossed with a dozen or so pitted Niçoise-style coquillo olives (Spain/Murcia, sweet, slightly smoky!) from Whole Foods and some of the reserved celery leaves, transferred to shallow bowls, some toasted pine nuts from Flatiron Eataly scattered on top, and sprinkled with more celery leaves, the edges drizzled with olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) rosé, 2018 Oregon Rosé of Pinot Noir, ordered from Erath  
• the music was the album, ‘Dream of the Orient’, with performances by Concerto Köln and Saraband

The squid was delicious, as it always is with this very familiar recipe (and with virtually any other), as was the kale, a particularly tasty redbor (brassica oleraceae ‘redbor’), whose appearance could more accurately be described as ‘frilly purple and green kale’.

The big deal for us however was the farm where the vegetable was grown, especially since we’re now in the month of June, and this one happens to be the 50th June since Stonewall. The the farm is TransGenerational Farm, and farmer’s name is Jayne. Here’s a bit about the farm and the farmer, from Grow New York, the group responsible for New York’s Greenmarket Farmers Markets, and many other initiatives.

• after the oven had been heated to 400º (it was a warm humid night, but not to worry, they only had to be in there for 5 minutes, and our new AC system is up to the challenge), just over a pound of very fresh squid, bodies and tentacles, from American Seafood Company, rinsed and very carefully dried, were quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until hot and its the cooking surface brushed with olive oil once the oil itself had become quite hot, then immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a good section of a peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and a pinch of the now powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017, and still awesome), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 full tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside the hot oven and the squid roasted for just 5 minutes, by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, then removed and the bodies and tentacles arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices that had been transferred to a footed glass sauce boat

• one bunch of redbor kale, finely-curled and a striking dark purple-red in color, from TransGenerational Farm, wilted with olive oil in which one thinly-sliced fresh garlic clove from Michisk’s Farm in Flemington, NJ had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, black pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• thin slices(one falling off the plate in the picture at the top) from a quarter section of a miche from Bread Alone, purchased in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2017, from Philippe Wines
• the music was an album of 2 septets by Johann Nepomuk Hummel, performed by Consortium Classicum, with soloists Dieter Klöcker, clarinet, and Florian Uhlig, keyboard

 

[the image of Jayne is from the GrowNYC Blog]

A fish bake.

Although there were some obvious differences and some less than obvious even to me, after I spotted the little fillets in the fisherman’s family’s stand, I almost immediately thought of this meal as a modest salute to the Great Lakes of what are generally describe as one’s ‘formative’ years.

I brought home exactly one dozen of these fresh beauties on Monday, but no more, although they were not expensive, since I was already worried about fitting them into a single non-reactive pan.

Because of the difficulty – or at least the anxiety anticipated with the idea – of turning over that many thin fillets more or less at the same time, I decided I would bread then bake them, obviating the flipping challenge. This is when I really started sliding, mentally back into the Midwest, since this is not how I usually cook fish of any kind.

Half an hour before I expected to begin their cooking I removed the perch from the refrigerator and placed them on a plate on the counter.

Then the process began in earnest, my excitement now including that of seeing them lying inside the perfect pan, a French antique I had recently bought and had re-tinned, exactly for times like this.

• twelve small coastal white perch fillets (a total of 15 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, submerged first in a mixture of 2 tablespoons of melted butter and 2 teaspoons of juice from a Chelsea While Foods Market organic lemon, then rolled in a mixture of roughly half a cup of homemade    breadcrumbs, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper and a large pinch of crushed dried habanada pepper [a paprika or another dried chili, or even crushed mustard seed would also work], arranged inside a very heavy antique low-sided,13″ tin-lined copper pan and set in an oven preheated to 500º, baked for roughly for a very few minutes, because of their size, or until the breading was crispy and golden brown, removed and allowed to cool for a couple minutes before serving, garnished with micro red mustard from two Guys from Woodbridge [the recipe was adapted from Livestrong.com]

• just under a pound of small sweet Natasha potatoes from Phillips Farms, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and tossed with some home grown basil from Barry’s Artsy colleague Becca

• some super sweet flat kale from Lani’s Farm, wilted inside a large antique copper pot in which one halved garlic clove from Norwich Meadows had first been allowed to sweat in a little olive oil until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Sancerre, Sommet Doré 2017, from Astor Wines
• the music was Lully’s 1683 tragédie en musique, ‘Phaéton’, Christophe Rousset conducting Les Talens Lyriques and the Chœur de Chambre de Namur

The best steak.

The plate suggested the New York steak house classic: Steak and potatoes, with something green on the side. There were even chives, but they weren’t to be found on the baked potato, and the vegetable proved that everything green is not spinach. Actually, I think everything was very different.

We don’t eat out much, and I think neither of us has been to a real steak house more than once in our lives.

In fact, we don’t eat beef of any kind very often, but when we do it’s normally a steak, and the steaks I’ve chosen more and more are of a single perfect cut, the sirloin cap steak (aka ‘rump cover’, ‘rump cap’, or ‘culotte’ in the United States, and ‘coulotte’ in France, ‘picanha’ in Brazil). There are reasons for this, and we’re reminded of them every time we’re able to enjoy the texture and the flavor of this great cut.

I’m noting right now, for my own records at least, that for once no fancy micro greens showed up for dinner. Maybe it was an unconscious obeisance to the sturdy fare served in the classic steak houses that still remain in this city.

• one perfect, frozen 23-ounce picanha/culotte steak from Sun Fed Beef in the Union Square Greenmarket, defrosted, brought to room temperature, seasoned on all sides with sea salt and a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, seared for less than a minute on the top, thick, fat-covered side inside a dry oval heavy enameled cast iron pan, then the 2 long sides cooked for 3 or 4 minutes each and the ends briefly seared, removed from the pan at the moment it had become perfectly medium-rare (checking with an instant-read thermometer), carefully cut crosswise into 2 pieces of the same weight, arranged on warm plates, a bit of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed on top, followed by a drizzle of a little of Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra unfiltered virgin olive oil, scattered with scissored fresh chives from Phillips Farms, the steaks allowed to rest for about 4 minutes before being served

• just under a pound of La Ratte potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with olive oil, a small amount of crushed dried habanada pepper, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted inside a large seasoned Pampered Chef ceramic oven pan, cut side down, inside a 400º oven for about 20 minutes

• one not-so-large bunch of high tunnel-raised cavolo nero (aka lacinato, Tuscan kale, or black kale, among other names) from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted briefly inside a heavy antique medium size tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil after several halved cloves of garlic, also from Norwich Meadows, had first been heated there until fragrant and softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and drizzled with a little more oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Catalonia/Priorat) red, Sao del Coster Priorat 2015, from Crush Wine & Spirits

• the music was Bernhard Gander’s album, ‘Bunny Games’, the music performed by Klangforum Wien, here meaning Hsin-Huei Huang, Krassimir Sterev, Emilio Pomárico, Johannes Kalitzke, and Sylvain Cambreling

 

[image of Gander’s album cover from KAIROS]