Purple.

Like the 2 vegetables, the piece of tuna loin was almost purple, but I think it would normally be described as a deep cherry red, the color, and the firmness, of raw beefsteak. Rob Williams, the fisherman from whom I had bought it that day said it was yellowfin. I’m no tuna authority, but it was so different in both appearance and taste from any tunny I have ever cooked (that number is probably something like a hundred), or eaten, that I’m inclined to think it was actually an Atlantic bluefin. The skin was also unusual, more like a light gray than the nearly black tone with which I’m familiar.

Because of the color of the flesh I was skeptical about its culinary virtues (I did say I was not an expert), so Rob cut a thin piece off of the side of the steak seen in the photo above and then handed it to me.

I tried it, savoring both the taste and the long, luxurious ‘finish’ for a couple minutes, and decided I really had to bring this treat to our table.

I was a little concerned about the area of really dark muscle, so I included all of it in my own portion, which I cut a bit larger to compensate. In the end however, I was surprised to find that it was little different from the rest of the flesh (or maybe even more tasty), so I kind of made out this time.

• one quite thick 17-ounce tuna steak from Seatuck Seafood Company’s stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, dried, halved, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed with a mixture of a little more than a tablespoon of a combination of wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, all first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the steaks pan-grilled above a medium-high flame on a small vintage Korean cast iron grill pan (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 lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with flowering fennel from Lani’s Farm

Even without this very robust tuna, it would have been a very rich meal. The two vegetables I picked to accompany the tuna only just before starting the meal (the radicchio had thoughtfully survived our trip to Arkansas last week), boasted some pretty serious flavors as well.

They were also purple.

If I had taken the time to think about it, I would have tried to include more color on the plate: I even had some bright cherry tomatoes sitting right there on the breakfast room windowsill.

• five small Japanese eggplant from Betsy Ryder’s family ancestral (since 1795) Ryder Farm, each halved lengthwise, brushed all over with a mixture of a little olive oil, 2 finely-chopped medium size rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, a pinch of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan above a brisk flame, turning twice, adding more of the material from the marinade the second time, then arranged on the plates, sprinkled with chopped winter savory from Keith’s Farm, and drizzled with a bit of olive oil

• the remains of one small head of treviso, including its stem, which was the length of the the leaf section attached above it, from Tamarack Hollow Farm in the union Square Greenmarket (the outer leaves had gradually been pulled off and used in earlier meals) halved lengthwise, the stem sliced through several times to speed its cooking evenly, marinated for half an hour in a mix of one medium finely-chopped Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic clove, a small bit of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled, then finished on the plates with some of the reserved marinade
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Crasto White 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Sebastian Fagerlund’s opera, ‘Höstsonaten (Autumn Sonata), inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s 1978 chamber drama Höstsonaten (Autumn Sonata), John Storgårds conducting the Finnish National Opera Orchestra

We’re really crazy about tuna steaks prepared this easy way, and I don’t object to the fact it’s simpler than pie to do. What surprised me this time was how formidable a rival the vegetable accompaniment I’d chosen turned out to be. It too could hardly have been easier to prepare, which was also a surprise, since I normally go through all kinds of contortions to bring out the best in treviso, or any of the other chicories I love so much.

• two 8-ounce tuna steaks from American Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, 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 porcelain mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, ending, also on both sides, with little more than a pinch of dried golden/orange habanada pepper, 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 and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• a small handful of golden cherry tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, in Carlisle, New Jersey, at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, washed, halved, heated inside an antique enameled cast iron porringer in a little olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, garnished with micro red basil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• one very-thinly-sliced spring garlic stem from Berried Treasures Farm or/and one spring red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm (and maybe a small piece of shallot, also from Norwich Meadows Farm), heated in a tablespoon or more of olive oil inside a heavy pan until softened, before 2 medium heads of early, loose-leaf) treviso from Campo Rosso Farm, roughly chopped, added to the pan, along with some sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, stirring all along until the radicchio had mostly wilted, finished with barely a splash of balsamic vinegar and sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejo) white, Esporao Monte Velho White 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was New Sounds, streaming

I love this recipe for scallops, even if I sometimes think I should leave these little fanned-shell mollusks to show on their own, skipping the garlic and herb.

And I’m crazy about any radicchio, in fact, any kind of the chicories. There are so many ways to enjoy radicchio in its various guises, but oven roasting is way up there, and it’s a routine which can be pursued pretty much without any stress. Also, if the vegetable happens to be finished sooner than the rest of the entrée, it’s just as good served room temperature.

• 12 sea scallops (12 ounces) from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way through, stuffed with a mixture of basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods, one medium-size clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, all chopped together very finely and removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, drained, then pan grilled in an enameled cast iron pan for about 2 minutes on each side, removed to 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil
• slices of a scrumptiously-earthy organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone

Fortunately the often brilliant color of a radicchio isn’t it’s only appeal, since much of it disappears after it has been cooked; this is an image of the pan just before it was slipped into the oven:

• one somewhat-larger-than-medium head of Treviso radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, rinsed, drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into 6 sections, arranged one cut side up on a Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves with toothpicks and/or string), covered with thyme branches from Whole Foods Market, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 10 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for around 8 minutes, arranged on the plates and drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Falanghina ‘Campi Flegrei’, Cantine Farro 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was Handel’s [1713?] opera seria, ‘Lucio Cornelio Silla’, Fabio Biondi conducting Europa Galante

I waited too long to head out to Eataly for some crabmeat, which I had thought would be the only possibility for an elegant New Years Eve dinner I had planned only at the last minute. They had totally run out of their supply.

Considering my options while standing near the glass display cases of the fresh pasta counter, I decided to pick up some Reginette, partly because of its entertaining shape.  Then I remembered seeing at least 4 different colored chicories when I had checked out the produce section, some of them even described as from USA farms.

The little meal had now been described almost entirely.

It had all the virtues of a meal for the occasion, including this time, since we normally stay home on this grand night, 2 we have almost never needed before: Simplicity of execution and quick disassembly afterwards.

• two tablespoons of olive oil inside a large high-sided tin-lined copper pot, adding one chopped red shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm until softened and pungent, followed by 2 beautiful  roughly-chopped small Treviso (they were the same size as, and looked very much like endive edged rose-red) which were stirred until themselves softened, half of a cup of an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015 added and boiled down until the liquid was mostly gone, 3 ‘nests’, or about 12 ounces, of mafaldine (semolina flour, water) from Flatiron Eataly, the cooked pasta added, stirred with some of the reserved pasta water until the liquid had emulsified, served in shallow bowls, a little olive oil poured around the edges, garnished with micro scallions from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and sprinkled with Parmigiano Reggiano Hombre from Whole Foods Market
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2015
• the music was Vivaldi’s ‘Orlando’ (1714 Version), Federico Maria Sardelli conducting the  Modo Antiquo Ensemble

• one 16-ounce Atlantic dolphin (‘coryphaena/dolphinfish‘) fillet, with skin, from Pure Vida Seafood, washed, dried, halved crosswise, rubbed with olive oil on both sides, coated with a mix of one half tablespoon of zest from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, an equal amount of lemon juice, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then allowed to sit for about half an hour, removed and the marinade wiped off, pan grilled over a medium to high flame, skin side up, for almost 2 1/2 minutes, turned, and grilled with the flesh side up for almost 4 1/2 minutes longer, the fillets arranged on 2 plates, drizzled with a little more lemon juice, scattered with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a bit of olive oil poured over the top [NOTE: there were no grill marks, unlike the last time I had used this simple recipe, which could mean any of several things: I hadn’t removed enough of the marinade before grilling, they sections were too crowded, and/or the flame was’t high enough]
• 4 ‘mountain magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, warmed in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a little fresh oregano from Keith’s Farm
• one small-to-medium head of Treviso radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, the water drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into four sections, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves with toothpicks), covered with lots of thyme branches from S. & S.O. Farm, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 10 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for around 8 minutes, then turned uncut side up and baked for about 2 minutes more, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was an Italian (Molise) white, L’Indovino Bianco, Salvatore 2015, from Astor Wines
• the music was André Campra’s 1702  tragédie en musique, ‘Tancrède’, performed by Les Temps Présents, conducted by Olivier Schneebeli