For a ‘recipe’ which was originally little more than a sentence I found in a conversation on line about bluefish cookery, this one has really taken off in our kitchen. The header on one of my posts readS, ‘bluefish as I’ve always wanted it to be; turns out it’s Greek’, although I’ve not actually included one of the most particular Greek ingredients, crumbled feta cheese, or at least not yet.

• one 15-ounce bluefish fillet from American Seafood Company, at Chelsea’s Saturday’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, rinsed, cut into 2 sections, rubbed with olive oil and a little Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, placed inside an oval tin-lined copper au gratin pan, sprinkled liberally with a very pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and a bit of dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, covered with one small-to-medium-size thinly-sliced red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a couple handfuls of small, halved, very sweet (candy-like), ripe grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms [and some chopped fresh oregano, if available, although this time it wasn’t], 9 pitted and halved dark olives [I used Gaeta], and several thin slices of lemon [it’s probably best not to be too extravagant in these amounts, as I was this time], baked at 425º for 15 minutes or so, garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• ten ounces or so of pink pearl potatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large still-warm vintage Corning  Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and some absolutely wonderful chopped Salvia Mandarino (Eng. ‘mandarin sage’, or ‘pineapple sage’) from Stokes Farm

• one good-sized bunch of collard greens from Lani’s Farm, washed 3 times, drained, some of the water retained and held aside to be added, if necessary, as the greens cooked, the leaves and tender stems cut roughly, braised together gently until softened/wilted inside a large, heavy vintage, high-sided copper pot in which one sliced stem of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had been heated until it also had softened, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) white, Quinta Do Crasto Branco 2014, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Dame Ethyl Smythe: Chamber Works’

I love fluke. Only incidentally, it happens to be one of but 2 kinds of ocean fish, other than mollusks, that I have caught myself. The second was Pacific Lincod. The fluke was caught off Long Island.

• two 9-ounce fluke fillets from American Seafood Company, washed, dried, brushed with a bit of good white wine vinegar and sprinkled with sea salt, each piece halved for convenience in cooking, dredged in a coarse local stone-ground flour, sautéed in a couple tablespoons or more of good Whole Food Market house Portuguese olive oil, turning once, until barely cooked through, 4 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market added to the pan just before the fish was removed to 2 warm plates, the tomatoes removed and also tranferred to the plates once they had softened, after which 2 or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter, a couple tablespoons of Whole Foods Market organic lemon juice, and roughly an ounce of ramps (chopped bulbs and sliced leaves) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm were added to the pan and all stirred for a minute or less before the sauce was poured over the fillets [the red bits in the picture at the top are segments of the ramp stems that retain some of their outer shell]

• one small bunch of young collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, stripped of most of their stems, cut very roughly, washed several times and drained, transferred to a smaller bowl very quickly, in order to retain as much of the water clinging to them as possible, braised inside a heavy antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 Rocambole Keith’s Farm garlic cloves had been allowed to sweat in a tablespoon or a little more of Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil, adding a little of the reserved water along the way as necessary, finished with salt, pepper, and a bit more olive oil
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sourdough from Foragers Market
• the wine was a Portuguese (Dão), Pedra Cancela Malvasia Fina/Encruzado Reserva 2014, from Garnet Wines 
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 3,  Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting the Orchestre Métropolitain

This meal followed something of a routine: Each of the 3 main elements was modeled on a preparation I’ve done many times before. Most of the details however were new.

I neglected to get a picture of the deeply-serious-looking bronze fennel while it was still at the market stall earlier in the day, but here’s a shot of the beautiful micro red amaranth that embellished the swordfish last night.

There’s a little more to that story: I had intended to accompany the potatoes with the amaranth and arrange the fennel fronds around the fish, but I inadvertently reversed that arrangement in my rush to dress the plates for the table. I’m not sure it really made any difference.

I did however capture the chives, which made it onto the potatoes even prior to the fennel, before I left the market.

• one 13-ounce yellowfin tuna steak off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, from Pura Vida Seafood, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, pan-grilled above a brisk flame (for barely a minute on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some olive oil, served with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms

• six Nicola potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm scrubbed and boiled, with their skins, inside a medium vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the still-warm pot, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and scissored chives from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, garnished with bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm

• one bunch of collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, the larger leaves stemmed, cut as a rough chiffonade, then braised inside a heavy antique high-sided, tin-lined copper pot in which 3 small crushed Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic cloves had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) white, Quinta Dos Roques Encruzado 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was a streaming of the terrific sort-of-old album (I think I bought the LP in 1990), ‘Points of Departure‘,  the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra performing works by Fred Lerdahl: ‘Waves’ (1988); Jacob Druckman: ‘Nor Spell Nor Charm’ (1990); WIlliam Bolcom: ‘Orphee-Serenade’ (1984); and Michael James Gandolfi: ‘Points of Departure’ (1988)

Roasted whole squid: It’s pretty awesome, every time, and the recipe asks for very little oil. It comes from ‘Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe‘, the most dog-eared of the 3 great cookbooks written by the owners of London’s River Cafe that I own. For convenience, I call it ‘the silver book’; the others are ‘the blue book’ and ‘the white book’, the appellations corresponding to the colors of their dust jackets. They’re all terrific.

• one large rectangular enameled cast iron pan heated on top of the stove until quite hot, its cooking surface then brushed with a thin coating of olive oil, and once the oil had also become quite hot, one pound of rinsed and carefully dried squid from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, both bodies and tentacles, arranged inside the pans without touching, if possible, and immediately sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, one small crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, and a section of a home-dried heatless, darker-orange/gold Habanada pepper (from my purchase of a number of the peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm last fall), some sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by a drizzle of a few tablespoons of Whole Foods Market organic lemon and some olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven, roasted for 5 minutes, removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with a bit of their cooking juices that had been transferred into a class sauce boat, garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• slices of a French-style sourdough Levain from Bread Alone Bakery in the Union Square Greenmarket
• eight Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, combined inside a small black La Chamba Colombian baking dish with a a bit of some very-thinly-sliced green leek ends from Phillips Farm, a little olive oil, half of a teaspoon of chopped thyme from Citarella, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, placed almost half an hour ahead of the squid in the same 400º oven for about 20 minutes, removed and arranged on the plates, their own juices drizzled on top
• a small bunch of collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed 3 times, drained, some of the water retained and held aside, to be added as the greens cooked, if necessary, the stems removed and the leaves cut roughly, then braised until gently wilted inside a heavy medium-size vintage, high-sided, tin-lined copper pot in which 2 halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been allowed to sweat over a low flame with some olive oil, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Bierzo) white, Cobertizo ‘El Blanco’ Bierzo 2014, from Astor Wines
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 1, in C Minor, (1891 Vienna Version), Yannick Nezet-Seguin conducting the Orchestre Metropolitain de Montreal

Our favorite chops.

The tomatoes and the collards are pretty fine too.

• two 9-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and seared quickly in a heavy enameled cast-iron pan before half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market was squeezed over the top (the lemon then left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed in a 425º oven for about 7 minutes, then flipped, part of a golden dried habanada pepper, crushed, added, the lemon squeezed over them once again and replaced inside the pan for another 3 or 4 minutes, when 4 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market were added and the pan returned to the oven for about 4 more minutes, when the chops were removed and arranged on 2 warm plates while the tomatoes were turned onto their round sides and the the pan heated on the top of the stove over a medium-high flame until the pork and tomato juices had reduced to almost a syrup and spooned over the chops, which were sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, the tomatoes garnished with micro scallions, also from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed 3 times, drained, some of the water retained and held aside, to be added as the greens cooked if necessary, the leaves and tender stems cut roughly, braised until gently wilted inside a medium heavy vintage, high-sided, tin-lined copper pot in which 2 halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been allowed to sweat over a low flame with some olive oil, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Langhe) white, Cagliero Rabel Langhe Bianco 2013 from Astor Wines
• the music was an album of music composed by Orazio Vecchi (1550-1605) that included ‘Amfiparnaso’ (1597), a madrigal-comedy cycle, and ‘The Musical Banquet’ (1597), which is just as the title suggests