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venison; watercress; roasted fingerlings; brussels sprouts

I wasn’t looking for game when I went to the Greenmarket last Saturday. I already had plans for our entrée that evening, but I stopped to say hello to the people at Quattro’s Poultry & Game Farm.

I went home with some venison.

While at the stand I had noticed a single venison steak at the bottom of one of their display containers. I made a mental note reminding myself that venison is occasionally available in our local farmer’s market (I’ve enjoyed Quattro’s stock once before, although it was some time back). I started to walk away but decided I shouldn’t pass up this opportunity: If I took it home I would be free to use it soon or else freeze it for a later meal.

I didn’t wait long: We enjoyed that meal Tuesday night.

Venison steaks are actually extremely simple to prepare, and I already had a a sauce, an interesting prepared butter, waiting in the freezer. Also, the only green vegetable I had on hand last night, a couple handfuls of some really beautiful Brussels sprouts, would be even more simple to cook than the game they might accompany.

It all looked too easy to me however, and since I had more than enough time, I expanded the entrée with a little cress and the last 4 potatoes from a small store of fingerling potatoes I had been husbanding.

The meal was a small triumph, and I still have a little of that terrific butter left in the freezer for another night.

  • one 14-ounce leg steak of free-range venison from Quattro’s Poultry & Game Farm, brought to room temperature, brushed with olive oil and seasoned with salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper on both sides, set aside for almost an hour, grilled inside a ribbed, enameled cast iron pan over medium-high heat for a little over 2 minutes on each side, or until medium-rare, then cut into 2 pieces, a tablespoon or so of a room-temperature blue-cheese-and-fennel-seed composed butter placed on top of each while they were still warm [the butter being a frozen leftover made for an earlier meal of venison, using some softened ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ flavored with a small amount of toasted and crushed dried fennel seed; a few drops of Worcestershire sauce; salt; pepper; a couple ounces of Gorgonzola Casarrigoni from Whole Foods; and a sprinkling of crushed dried, very dark, heatless habanada peppers, all rolled between sheets of wax paper into a ‘log’ one inch in diameter]
  • baby red watercress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, dressed with a little good olive oil, Maldon salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper

peppered venison, brandy; roasted turnips; red cabbage

This was at least the third dinner of venison we’ve enjoyed this winter, and preparing it this time was even easier than usual because of some leftovers and a very easy-going root vegetable purchased in the Greenmarket over a month before.

  • eight ounces of a D’Artagnan New Zealand venison ‘shortloin’, from Frank at O. Ottomanelli & Sons, that had been cut from the larger piece which we had enjoyed one month before, dried, rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coating of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, set aside for more than half an hour, after which it was placed over moderately high heat in 1 to 2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside an oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan, cooked barely medium rare, which meant about 2 minutes on one side, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, turned and cooked for another 2 minutes, cut into 2 pieces and transferred to warm plates, the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, 2 tablespoons of brandy (Courvoisier V.O., as it happened) added to the pan and cooked over high heat until very much reduced [this time almost immediately!] before the sauce was poured over the meat, which was then garnished with chopped parsley from Eataly
  • seven purple-topped turnips from Alewife Farm, washed, scrubbed, peeled, cut into half-inch-thick slices, tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary leaves from Hoeffner Farms, roasted in a large unglazed Pampered Chef ceramic pan for about 30 minutes at 425º, or until tender and beginning to carbonize, one green section of a baby leek from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, sliced in half-inch segments, added half-way through, and, once removed from the oven, the sprouting light ‘greens’ that had been trimmed from the roots, slightly wilted, added to the vegetables, which were then arranged on plates, some Hong Vit micro radish sprinkled on top
  • red cabbage, remaining from an earlier, even richer meal, reheated
  • the wine was an Austrian (Burgenland) red, Zweigelt, Rosi Schuster 2013 (St.Laurent and Blaufrankisch grapes), from Astor Wines
  • the music was that of Philip Glass, his 1983 opera, ‘Akhnaten’* Dennis Russell Davies conducting the Stuttgart State Opera Orchestra and the Stuttgart State Opera Chorus, with Milagro Vargas, Melinda Liebermann, Tero Hannula, Helmut Holzapfel , Cornelius Hauptmann, Victoria Schneider, Lynne Wilhelm-Königer, Maria Koupilová-Ticha, Paul Esswood, Geraldine Rose, Angelika Schwarz, David Warrilow, and Christina Wächtler

* I find ‘Akhnaten’ profoundly moving, although most critics have thought it less successful than the rest of the Glass trilogy. I think my relationship to it is independent of my experience and impressions in a trip I made to Egypt 30 years ago. I never visited el-Amarna, but I did trek through the Valley of Kings, and there I picked up several of the ordinary golden stones which compose the dry landscape. The picture below is of one of them, perhaps a piece of marl or marlstone; I found it on the trail which leads down the mountain to the Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut. It has acquired a patina from handling it on the table where I spend much of my time, and today, if only because of its origin, it looks to me very much like a large scarab, although somewhat abstracted.

venison, brandy sauce; quince chutney; parsnips; collards

venison_parsnips-collards-quince

I could easily get used to this.

 

Venison has always been one of my favorite entrées, but I’m becoming more and more comfortable with preparing it at home, and I’m really enjoying the process of selecting it from some of my favorite butchers.

This time I picked a fresh venison ‘shortloin’ from Frank (the game specialist brother) at Ottomanelli’s in the West Village.

We had expected to have guests, although we hadn’t starting asking friends until after they had already made commitments, as it turned out. We had both been under the weather for weeks, and arranging a dinner party didn’t get on the to-do list until later.

The piece, the very tenderest loin cut of red deer (cervus elaphus), that I had brought home was larger than we wanted for just ourselves (it’s a very rich meat), so I cut one section away after I had unwrapped the package and carefully stowed it in the freezer for another day.

The recipe I used is for the venison is by Brendan Walsh; it’s one from an article I had cut from the Daily News 30 years ago, and I still have the yellowing newsprint in my ‘game’ file. Walsh was the young chef at Arizona 206 at the time.

The venison was the only major part of this meal not sourced locally (American game is not allowed to be sold anywhere in the country), and many of the ‘minor’ elements – including the fantastic lemon[!] – were also from the New York City area.

I included some of the compote or chutney I had prepared for our Thanksgiving dinner, and which we have enjoyed again since; it was as luscious as ever.

 

parsnips

The tender parsnips were cooked mostly along the lines of a recipe, new to me, which I found on this site.

 

loose_collards

The sweet collards are old friends of ours.

 

  • two 7-ounce, one-inch thick medallions cut from a fresh, vacuum-packaged 22-ounce New Zealand venison ‘shortloin’ from D’artagnan, via Ottomanelli’s, dried rubbed with olive oil and a very generous coasting of freshly-cracked black peppercorns, set aside for more than an hour, after which it was placed over moderately high heat in 1-2 tablespoons of a combination of butter and olive oil inside an oval 11-inch enameled cast iron pan, cooked barely medium rare, which meant about 2 minutes on one side, or until juices had begun accumulating on the top, turned and cooked for another 2 minutes, transferred to warm plates, the bottom of the pan scraped with a wooden spatula to collect the juices, a quarter cup of brandy (Courvoisier V.O. this time) added to the pan and cooked over high heat until reduced to about 2 tablespoons before the sauce was poured over the meat, which was then garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market (it was almost certainly the last of this sweet herb I will see from local farmers)
  • quince chutney, made following this theKitchn.com recipe, using a shallot from Keith’s Farm, a garlic clove from Stokes Farm, quince from Red Jacket Orchards, dried sweet cherries (don’t know whether they were local) from Whole Foods, fresh ginger from Lani’s Farm, apple cider from Locust Grove Fruit Farm (the recipe asked for apple cider vinegar, and I do have a bottle of the local stuff, from Race Farm, but I misread the instruction and the dish still turned out more than fine)
  • half to 3 quarters of a pound of young parsnips from Tamarack Hollow Farm, scrubbed, peeled, cut, roughly into 3 to 4 inch lengths and half inch widths, tossed and stirred inside a medium copper pot in which 4 tablespoons of butter had been melted, the roots sprinkled with salt and pepper, removed with a slotted wooden spoon and the pot put aside on the stove, arranged on a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted in a 375º oven for about 45 minutes, after which half a tablespoon of juice and a teaspoon of zest from a sweet local lemon, from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a few pinches of freshly-grated nutmeg were added to the pot of melted butter reserved earlier, the parsnips added and tossed with the butter over medium heat for a minute or two, and the seasoning corrected, if necessary
  • some sweet late-season loose collard greens from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, cut as a very rough chiffonade, braised in a heavy pot in which one large clove of quartered garlic from Stokes Farm had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Napa) red, Ken Deis Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley Reserve 2014, from Naked Wines

We had begun the meal with sips of champagne in the parlor, 2 steps below the dining gallery (it sounds fancy, especially since there were only the two of us, but it’s actually something we rarely indulge ourselves with).

The first course was one of my favorites, for its pleasures and for its ease of preparation.  Although this time I had completely forgotten to include the little bit of of balsamic vinegar I had even set out beforehand, it was still delicious.

sauteed_cabbage

  • inside a large enameled cast iron pot, one chopped garlic clove from Stokes Farm, sautéed in a tablespoon of olive oil only until golden, followed by less than 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar, 6 crushed juniper berries, and roughly half of a pound of a ‘conehead’ cabbage (also known as ‘caraflex’ or ‘arrowhead’ cabbage) from Norwich Meadows Farm, very finely sliced after the triangular core had been removed and set aside, the cabbage seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat raised, the mix fried for about one minute, stirring, then arranged in 2 shallow bowls (I’ve used the basic recipe a number of times as an appetizer when we have guests; it’s from ‘Healthy Italian Cooking‘, by Emanuella Stucchi, a slim ‘stealth vegetarian’ volume I had been using for years before I realized there was absolutely no meat or fish in any of the recipes it described
  • slices from a loaf of Eric Kayser’s ‘Pain aux Céréales’
  • the wine was a German (Mosel) white, Selbach Incline Dry Riesling Mosel 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault

We didn’t make it to a cheese course.

 

venison; quince chutney; camote chipotle gratin; lacinato

cabbage_balsamic_juniper

with no hint of the richness of the entrée, a light cabbage sauté

venison_gratin_lacinato

(‘butter’ still melting) the empty space in the middle? reserved for quince chutney

quince_compote

..and here it is (I had taken the second picture before serving the chutney)

4_cheeses

tiny cheese, big toast, but the toast was very thin

pecan_pie_gelato

we decided to call pecan pie a Venezuelan desert (inside joke)

 

Thanksgiving with venison.

The bad part: no leftovers; the good part: no leftovers.

I had no interest in serving a turkey, and there were to be only 4 people at the table this year. Besides, turkey is hard, and it would have meant I couldn’t oversleep on one of my favorite holidays.

We had venison; it was the best venison I have ever cooked.

We both love game, and Ottomanelli’s had some thick New Zealand venison chops when I visited the shop last week. These rich cuts are at least as simple to prepare as a steak, and everybody thinks they can cook a steak, and they’re right. My now-favorite approach for venison chops is to season them well, give them a quick searing on each side, then about 5 minutes in the oven, no turning required, followed by a few minutes rest on warm plates before serving.

The simplest of recipes does invite a little tweaking however. It could be as simple as deglazing the pan with spirits or putting together a composed butter to spread on the top of the cooked meat. I went for the latter this time, a blue cheese-fennel butter.

The long, informal little dinner party began with a toast.

The sitting part part began with cabbage, almost a salad, but warm and savory.

cutting_cabbage

love cutting cabbage; think it’s about the texture and the simple movement

 

  • inside a large enameled cast iron pot, one chopped garlic clove from Stokes Farm, sautéed in a tablespoon of olive oil only until golden, followed by less than 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar, 6 crushed juniper berries, and roughly half of a pound of a ‘conehead’ cabbage (also known as ‘caraflex’ or ‘arrowhead’ cabbage) from Norwich Meadows Farm, very finely sliced, after the triangular core had been removed, sliced thinly and set aside, the cabbage seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat raised, the mix fried for about one minute, stirring, then arranged on plates, the reserved core triangles arranged on top (I’ve used the basic recipe a number of times as an appetizer when we have guests, a favorite with cook and guests for its convenience and its deliciousness, respectively; it’s from ‘Healthy Italian Cooking‘, by Emanuella Stucchi, a small ‘stealth’ vegetarian tome I had been using it for years before I realized there was no meat or fish in any of the recipes
  • slices of a whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone, in the Greenmarket
  • the wine was an Oregon (Rogue Valley) white, Foris Vineyards Rogue Valley Gewürztraminer Oregon 2014

The entrée included the venison chops finished with a gorgonzola-fennel seed butter, a quince and cherry chutney, a spicy-smoky sweet potato gratin, and a sweet ’embossed’ leafy vegetable.

  • four thick loin chops (6- 7 ounces each), New Zealand farmed venison, via O. Ottomanelli & Sons, on Bleecker Street, brought to room temperature, generously seasoned on both sides, seared in a little olive oil and butter inside an enameled cast iron pan, placed in a 425º oven for about 5 or 6 minutes, removed, and allowed to rest, a tablespoon or so of a composed butter placed on top while they were still warm (the butter was some softened ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘ flavored with a small amount of toasted and crushed dried fennel seed; a few drops of Worcestershire sauce; salt; pepper; a couple ounces of Gorgonzola Casarrigoni from Whole Foods; and a sprinkling of crushed dried, very dark, heatless habanada peppers, rolled into a ‘log’ one inch in diameter, and refrigerated until needed)
  • quince chutney, made following this theKitchn.com recipe, using a shallot from Keith’s Farm, a garlic clove from Stokes Farm, quince from Red Jacket Orchards, dried sweet cherries from Whole Foods, fresh ginger from Lani’s Farm, apple cider from Locust Grove Fruit Farm (the recipe asked for apple cider vinegar, and I do have a bottle of the local stuff, from Race Farm, but I misread the instruction and the dish still turned out more than fine)
  • two pounds of Japanese sweet potatoes from Lani’s Farm, sliced thinly, seasoned with salt and pepper, arranged in 4 layers separated by portions of 2 cups of heavy cream that had been mixed in a blender with one chipotle pepper and a small amount of adobo sauce (the layers beginning with the potatoes), inside a 8″x12″ glazed ceramic casserole dish, baked inside a 350º oven for about one hour, or until the cream had been absorbed and the potatoes browned, finished on the plates with a scattering of micro radish from Windfall Farms (the gratin recipe, one I’ve used many times, is from ‘Bobby Flay’s Bold American Food‘, where, minus the micro radish, it appears as ‘Sweet Potato Gratin with Smoked Chiles’)
  • about half of a pound of small tender leaves of cavolo nero (also known as lacinata, black kale, or Tuscan kale) from Tamarack Hollow Farm, briefly wilted with olive oil and 4 halved garlic cloves from Stokes Farm, the garlic first heated in the oil until they became pungent
  • the wines were a California (Calaveras) red, F. Stephen Millier Black Label Red Angel Red Blend Calaveras County 2014 from Naked Wines; and an Italian (Sicily) red, Tenuta delle Terre Nere Etna Rosso 2014

There was a cheese course.

  • four different cheeses, ‘Bigelow’ goat cheese from Ardith Mae; Consider Bardwell’s ‘Reconsider’, which is a one-time event: a cow cheese finished in the ‘Manchester’ goat cheese cave; Consider Bardwell’s ‘Dorset’ cow cheese; and an untitled Consider Bardwell blue goat cheese
  • thin toasts of a fantastic ‘8 Grain 3 Seed’ bread from Rock Hill Bakery, Gansevoort, NY (the ingredients are: ‘unbleached, unbromated wheat flour, water, organically grown whole wheat flour, honey, corn grits, millet, oats, cracked barley, cracked rye, cracked wheat, flax seeds, brown rice flour, sunflower seeds, buckwheat flour, pops seeds, salt’), made on my ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post]

There was a sweet (well, another sweet).

  • a magnificent pecan pie, from Le Pain Quotidien, the gift of our guests, beside a scoop of Ciao Bella ‘Madagascar Vanilla’ gelato frm Whole Foods, served on glass chargers requisitioned for functional service the first time ever.

We topped the evening with neat sips of a very good Venezuelan rum, Roble Viejo Ron Extra Añejo, also from our guests.

  • the music was entirely from the Americas [Renaldo Hahn was born in Venezuela], drawn from a Spotify playlist assembled by Barry for the afternoon and evening (we enjoyed slow food dinner and conversation for 8 hours)

venison, sauce poivrade; roasted carrots; brussels sprouts

venison_white_carros_brussels_sprouts

very happy with this meal

 

Holidays and weekends shouldn’t be the only occasions for special meals, and besides, what’s ‘special’ when you’re trying to do your best all the time?  Still, I have to admit that this was pretty special, and while I served it on an ‘ordinary’ Monday, that wasn’t my original intention.  It was supposed to be Sunday dinner.  The fact is, earlier last week I had gone back and forth in my head about whether to marinate these venison chops 24 hours ahead of time, and in the end decided to play them quite straight (no marinade).  So I missed my cue for removing them from the refrigerator, and did not realize it until almost 10:30 Sunday night.

The new plan for that night was to put together a dish of rich pasta, and make the venison wait 24 hours.

Fortunately nothing suffered from the delay, and certainly not ourselves (the cacio e pepe was delicious).

I had interrupted the sauce preparation just in time, and it might even have profited from the overnight rest.  At least I can avow that it tasted wonderful and even more rich than it looks above.  My interest is normally in minimal, quickly-assembled meals, but I understand the passion for intense spicy sauces (usually thought of a cold weather thing in northern Europe, but a warm time thing around the Mediterranean and in south Asia); last night it was very cold outside, and we were delighted to have the oven working to heat both ourselves and this rich meal.

This venison talk inspires at least one more thought: I understand why a medieval or renaissance-era lord – and lady – would prefer the robust taste of game to so-called, ‘butcher’s meat’, especially after being out riding all day, hunting animals (or men).  Moves tells me I only walked 1.6 miles the day we sat down to this meal, so a single chop for each of us was plenty.

The inspiration for the meal began with an accidental sighting of a sign at the Quattro’s Game Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, ‘Fresh Venison’.  Before this I hadn’t seen them advertising game more robust than pheasant, so I investigated further and, after a conversation with, I think, a member of the family, I ended up purchasing 2 chops from her.  At the time I thought I might have been too stingy bout the amount, but on the day I cooked them I was certain I had gotten it right.

I had very recently purchased David Waltuck’s beautiful big volume, ‘Chanterelle: The Story and Recipes of a Restaurant Classic’, and it was my inspiration for preparing them (the picture on the page facing the recipe is awesome); earlier I had seen a Mike Robinson video (I’d never heard of him until I googled ‘cooking venison shops’) which had already persuaded me to cook them as simply as possible.

I didn’t have any venison bones, so I had to try to reproduce the ‘venison stock’ called for in Waltuck’s recipe;  I think I did pretty well, and even the color looked right.

  • 2 venison fallow deer loin chops, less than half a pound each, from Quattro’s Farm, seared quickly on top of the stove, then placed inside a 425º oven for only about 4 minutes (they should be pink and not rare), then placed on top of a very rich pepper sauce which had been prepared earlier
  • the sauce poivrade started with a large unpeeled, coarsely-chopped carrot, a medium onion, unpeeled, quartered, one unpeeled garlic head, sliced horizontally, one large celery stalk, cut into 1-inch sections, all placed in hot olive oil inside a large, enameled, cast iron pan, the heat reduced to medium and the vegetables cooked until brown and soft (about 10-15 minutes; half a cup of white wine and a tablespoon of red wine vinegar poured in, the contents cooked, stirring, and scraping up the bits on the bottom of the pan, brought to a boil until the liquid is almost evaporated (about 5 minutes), four cups of stock [venison stock is specified, but I used a combination of various stocks I had in the freezer, mushroom, lamb tongue, veal tongue, plus some very good low-sodium commercial beef and chicken stock], brought back to a boil and cooked until reduced by half (around 25-30 minutes); the sauce now strained through a fine mesh strainer set over a medium saucepan, the vegetables pressed, in order to squeeze as much of the juices into the pan as possible, 1 teaspoon of telicherry pepper and 1/4 teaspoon of sichuan peppercorns added, the liquid simmered over medium heat until the sauce was reduced to 1/2 cup (about 20 minutes); 1/2 tablespoon of butter and 1/2 tablespoon of whole wheat flour kneaded together to form a paste, then whisked into the saucepan, breaking up any lumps, the heat raised to bring it to boiling, then immediately reduced to medium, or low, simmering just long enough to eliminate any flour taste (about 5 minutes), then strained, again through a fine-mesh strainer, into a small saucepan, where it can be kept warm (or carefully re-heated) until ready to be placed on the plate
  • brussels sprouts from van Houtem Farms, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, spread onto a large, very well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan in a 400º oven and cooked until tender and slightly carbonized (the time will depend on size, but these took barely 15 minutes)
  • very small white carrots from Rogowski Farm, also tossed in olive oil with salt and pepper, and cooked in a Pampered Chef medium-sized pan at 400º until tender (again, the time will depend on size; these took about 15 minutes), but here finished with a combination of chopped tarragon from Stokes Farm, chopped parsley from Whole Foods, and scissored whole baby chive plants from Rogowski Farm

white_carrots

white carrots in the just-beginning-to-be-seasoned medium-sized ceramic pan