I don’t know how to characterize this meal, but it was delicious.

• a few ounces of ‘nduja, a classic Calabrian spreadable salumi (“loosely based on the French andouille introduced in the 13th century by the Angevins” – Wikipedia) now made locally by Rico and Jill of Walnut Hill Farm in Pawlet, Vermont, and available in the Union Square Greenmarket, spread on slices of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (simply wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co. that had first been toasted with my ‘Camp-A-Toaster‘ on top of our 1930’s Magic Chef range, the salumi sprinkled with chopped fresh za’atar [origanum syriacum] from TransGenerational Farm and drizzled with olive oil

The main course was only a little more elaborate, although totally improvised from what I had on hand. It was basically a long pasta with golden grape tomatoes and several fresh or dry seasoning ingredients.

• a few chopped garlic scapes from Phillips Farms sautéed in a little olive oil over moderate heat inside a large antique copper pot until they had softened, then adding a quarter to a half teaspoon of some really great dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron, then part of a habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, sliced thinly, and a small stem of celery from Norwich Meadow Farm, finely chopped, and stirring a bit more before adding eight ounces of al dente-cooked and drained Afeltra spaghettoni, from Eataly Flatiron and almost a cup of cooking water, the mix stirred over medium to high heat until the liquid had emulsified, and more than a handful of lengthwise-halved golden grape or pear-shaped tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, that had been sourced at the Saturday 23rd St Greenmarket, added and stirred into the pasta, the mix seasoned with a little freshly-ground black pepper, and some torn peppermint peppermint from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market and chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, arranged in 2 shallow bowls, more mint and lovage added on top, as well as some chopped celery leaves and sliced garlic flower buds, and drizzled around the edges with a little olive oil

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a Spanish (Bierzo) white, Bierzo Godello, Abad Dom Bueno 2017, from Astor Wines
• the music throughout (it was the American Labor day) was Roy Harris, Symphony No. 1 ‘1933’ and his Concerto for Violin and Orchestra’

I’d been waiting for an opportunity to revisit one of my favorite darker artisanal pastas, but the weather hadn’t been cooperating. I had bought the package in the spring, when the weather was much cooler. I think of wholewheat pasta, and the kind of accoutrements it suggests, as just a little too earthy for a hot summer meal, even though that notion is almost certainly just inside my head.

Last night, while our air conditioning was separating us from the August heat and humidity, I thought of it again when I realized I had a small bunch of light kale I had bought for the meal the evening before, but ended up not using. I thought it would be an excellent match for its special appeal, and it certainly was. Still, I did leave off the shaved cheese topping suggested as an option by Melissa Clark, the author of the recipe. After all, it was still summer.

[note to the file – and to Clark’s editors: I’m pretty certain there’s a mistake in the published recipe where it says: “Add chiles and a pinch of salt and toast until golden, 1 to 2 minutes.”, since the chiles are very red, very dry, in any event wouldn’t normally require toasting, and definitely not for 1 to 2 minutes; she may have meant that the garlic should be added at that pont, ahead of the capers and anchovies, but that seems unlikely]

• a bit of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market added to roughly 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large antique copper pot and briefly heated over a medium flame, followed by 4 fat ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves from TransGenerational Farm that had been crushed and skinned, 2 tablespoons of thoroughly rinsed and drained Sicilian capers, “patted dry with a paper towel to encourage browning”, writes Clark, although I’ve never been able to do this with capers, and couldn’t this time, and 4 well-rinsed, drained, and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies, all cooked until everything was softened, the capers, ideally, looking crisp around the edges, and the anchovies dissolved into the oil, or for about 3 to 4 minutes, at which point one small bunch of young, trimmed, washed, drained, and chopped Redbor kale from TransGenerational Farm was stirred into the pot, and 9 ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ whole wheat Italian Pastaio di Gragnano from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, tossed in, followed by at least 3 quarters of a cup of reserved cooking water, and everything stirred with my ancient #1 wooden spoon over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, when plenty of freshly ground black pepper was added and a bit of organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top, the pasta tossed one more time, then served in 2 shallow bowls
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
• and speaking of the seasons, the music was Haydn’s own interpretation, ‘Die Schöpfung’, Bernard Haitink conducting the Choir and Orchestra of the Bayerischen Rundfunks

I’d never heard of ciauscolo a month ago, but if I had heard the seductive description, ‘soft, spreadable salami’, I would have been very surprised if it did not exist somewhere.

I’m now here to say that it does, that it apparently has existed for a very long time, mostly in Umbria and the neighboring Marche, and I can now confirm that it’s as succulent and seductive as the description suggests.

Last night I served it as a very meaty appetizer for a very un-meaty pasta. I don’t know why I didn’t just spread the sausage on the bread before serving it, instead of setting it up in the middle of the plates, unless I was thrown off by my late decision to include some fresh baby arugula on the side. Next time I’ll be prepared.

• four ounces of an Umbrian-style Ciauscolo spreadable salami from southern Vermont farmers Rico and Jill of Walnut Hill Farm (newly arrived at the Union Square Greenmarket this summer), arranged on 2 plates
• handfuls of baby arugula (rucola) from Phillips Farms, dressed with Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ olive oil (Koroneiki varietal), from Hania, Crete, purchased at Chelsea Whole Foods Market
• slices of rich ‘Seedy Grains’ bread from Lost Bread Co. (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt)

The main course was a refreshing followup to the salumi, dominated by the flavors of cucumber and dill.

• two garlic scapes from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut into one inch lengths, heated over moderate heat in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until almost softened, one thinly sliced narrow stalk of very green celery from Norwich Meadow Farm added near the end, the heat increased and one conventional green cucumber from Stokes Farm and 2 luscious yellow cucumbers from Alewife Farm, all sliced roughly half an inch thick, added and sautéed until beginning to brown or carbonize on their edges, followed by one thinly sliced very small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and one fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm (which seemed to have retained some of the heat of its habañero ancestors), which were stirred until both were softened, then 9 ounces of a very good Campania pasta, cooked al dente (Afeltra 100% Grano Italiano Biologico Pasta di Grannano IG.P. Artigianale rigatone from Eataly Flatiron) tossed into the sauce pot with almost a cup of retained pasta water, everything stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, the mix arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, and a generous amount of scissored dill flowers from Willow Wisp Farm scattered on top

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Napa/Santa Lucia Highlands) rosé, Derek Rohlffs Santa Lucia Highlands Rose 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout was an ECM album of string quartets by Thomas Adès, Per Nørgård, and Hans Abrahamsen, performed by the Danish String Quartet

It came as a total surprise to me. I don’t really buy much corn of any kind, but on my first day back at the Union Square Greenmarket after a month away one of the first things I spotted was a striking small stack of huitlacoche-covered ears of organic corn in Tyler Dennis’ Alewife Farm stand.

Huitlacoche, or ‘corn smut’, is an ancient delicacy with a smoky, earthy flavor used to flavor Mexican dishes of many kinds, but I had never seen it before in the wild, so to speak.

I have no experience cooking Mexican dishes, but I do appreciate unusual ingredients, and remembering that pasta does as well, I decided I’d marry this precious fungus with an artisanal spaghetti, more or less making up my recipe as I went along.

It was every bit as interesting and delicious as I’d expected.

• nine ounces of an artisanal spaghetti (Pastificio Setaro F. Lli pasta di semola di grano duro, Lavorazione artigianale Torre Annunziata Napoli) from Buon Italia inside Chelsea Market, cooked al dente, tossed with a sauce made by sautéing one minced garlic clove from Stokes Farm and a small/medium spring red onion (picked up from Jersey Farm Produce that afternoon at our very local 23rd Street Chelsea Down to Earth Farmers Market) in a little olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until both had softened, adding a small minced section of a seeded fresh jalapeño chili pepper from our neighborhood Forager’s Market near the end, followed by 5 ounces of fresh huitlacoche cut from a rinsed ear of organic corn from Alewife Farm (I read that the black residue is okay, and in fact it’s the main objective, and that a bit of corn silk remaining is also no problem), plus the few kernels in their more familiar, original form, the fungi cooked slowly for about 10 minutes, or until soft, after which a little dried Sicilian oregano, dried Sicilian wild fennel seed, and some crushed smoked dried serrano pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm were added and the mix allowed to continue simmering for a couple of minutes, the drained spaghetti then tossed in and mixed with the sauce, some of the pasta water added and everything stirred over a medium-high flame until the liquid had emulsified, seasoned with sea salt to taste, the now-finished dish arranged in shallow bowls and garnished with toasted pine nuts from Buon Italia and chopped fresh parsley from Stokes Farm, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) red, Erath Oregon Pinot Noir 2016, ordered directly from Erath
• the music was Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s ‘Das Wunder der Heliane’, John Mauceri conducting the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Berlin Radio Chorus, with Nicolai Gedda, Hartmut Welker, Martin Petzold, Anna Tomowa-Sintow, and others 

It was a splendid meal, and extremely satisfying. Barry really loved it. I’m thinking of referring to it in the future as ‘the little magic meal’, since, aside from its other charms, it also betrays physical hints of the original.

Everything came together beautifully, and surprisingly easily.

My idea was to use some of my stock of 4 heads of radicchio (It had felt like I’d been hoarding these treasures) but doing something fairly simple with it. A search of this blog didn’t give me any ideas, because I’d only used small amounts of radicchio in pasta dishes until now.

I found good prospects on 2 other sites, and they turned out to be basically the same recipe, the main variable being the livestock sort from which the cheese, one of the principal ingredients, originated. I ended up cribbing most of both, while copying out my own, third version. The Result?  ‘Spaghetti with Radicchio and Ricotta’/’Spaghetti with Radicchio and Chevre’ became ‘Rigatoni with Radicchio and Feta’.

• little more than one tablespoon olive oil poured into a medium size antique copper pot and heated over a medium flame before adding 2 minced spring garlic cloves from Michisk’s Farm in Flemington, N.J. and cooking them until soft but not browned, adding a fourth of a cup of mixed finely chopped fresh parsley from Phillips Farms and lovage from Keith’s Farm, and 1/4 of a cup homemade breadcrumbs, stirring frequently until breadcrumbs were golden, or about 3 minutes, the mix allowed to rest while the basic sauce itself was being assembled with 8 or 9 ounces Setaro Torre Annunziata Napoli Penne Rigatoni from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, cooked al dente and drained, the hot pasta transferred to a large bowl, where it was followed immediately by 4 ounces of a crumbled feta from from Lynnhaven Dairy Goat Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, the mix tossed gently to melt the cheese, much of a cup of reserved warm pasta water added gradually until the rigatoni was accompanied by a liquid of a good sauce consistency, being careful not to add too much water, then mixing in one and a half small heads of variegata radicchio di lusia from Eckerton Hill Farm, quartered top to bottom and thinly sliced crosswise, and half of the breadcrumb mixture, seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, the contents of the bowl now gently tossed to coat in the sauce evenly, the pasta transferred to shallow bowls and sprinkled with the remaining breadcrumb mixture [NOTE: depending on how dry it may be when placed inside the bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edge might not be out of line; also noting that I had also intended to sprinkle on some onion blossoms (mostly because I had them), but I forgot, and, as it turned out, I think it would have been like gilding a lily]
• the wine, ordered directly from the winery, was an Oregon (Williamette Valley) white, Erath Oregon Pinot Gris 2016
• the music was Johann David Heinichen’s 1720 opera, ‘Flavio Crispo’ [tragically, while today we can appreciate its great beauty, the world had to wait 300 years, and for the Stuttgart Baroque Orchestra, Il Gusto Barocco, to learn this (the ensemble resurrected it and premiered it in 2016), because of the slightly outrageous circumstances of its stillbirth: the opera was never performed in its own time, or in the 3 centuries after, “due to an incident”)