Although I’ve worked with this flounder recipe once before, this time it didn’t look or taste anything like that of last December.

Last night I almost burnt the bed on which the fish was to lie inside the oven. If knowing your way around mistakes is a sign of a mature cook, I may now have stepped out of my apprenticeship.

My recovery involved tossing some more wine and a splash of water into the hot cooking pan before adding the flounder to the scary brown stuff inside; we were both very lucky that the thin onion and lemon slices hadn’t quite reached the carbon point.

The plate was delicious, in a way of course that neither of us could have anticipated.

• one thinly-sliced organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market and one thinly-sliced 4 ounce fresh red onion from Jersey Farm Produce arranged at the bottom of a 9-by-13-inch enameled cast iron baking pan, dotted with 2 tablespoons of butter, 1/2 of  cup of white wine and a few tablespoons of cold water added,  sprinkled with 1 teaspoon of chopped thyme from Stokes Farm, seasoned with local sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, baked inside a 400º oven until the onions are soft and translucent, about 40 minutes [my near-burnt pan might have been the consequence of my having sliced everything too thinly, and/or not including  enough liquid], the pan removed and two flounder fillets (7 ounces each) from American Seafood Company arranged on top, seasoned with salt and pepper, a few sprigs of thyme laid on top, and the fish basted with the liquid on the bottom, the flounder baked until just opaque and cooked through, maybe 15 minutes, and arranged on the plates with the lemon and onion

• eight small Costata Romanesco zucchini from Windfall Farms, sliced lengthwise into pieces about a quarter of an inch thick, dried, tossed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, 2 finely-chopped garlic cloves from Stokes Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, then pan grilled, turning 2 or 3 times, on top of a seasoned 2-burner ribbed cast iron plate, arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with torn spearmint from Stokes Farm and more olive oil, allowed to rest for a few minutes while the fish was prepared (the squash tastes wonderful at any temperature)
• slices of a great table bread, introduced to avoid letting the sauces excape, Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Company ‘table bread’, whose productions we are fortunate to be able to buy in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) white, Oregon Pinot Blanc 2016, ordered directly from Erath
• the music was the album, ‘Jacob Druckman: Lamia’, Gil Rose conducting the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, with Lucy Shelton

Thursday’s meal started with some really luscious inguazato (basically a tomato couscous with capers, chilis, and green olives) left over from an earlier meal. We both thought that a grilled meat might give it a fresh take the second time around.  Then I thought of a Roman dish that had always sounded intriguing, but had so far eluded me: lamb chops scottadito. The problem had always been finding chops thin enough for the authentic experience (about one centimeter, or less than a quarter of an inch thick), since so many prosperous Americans have long been accustomed to thick chops, lamb or otherwise, and that’s all that can be found today, even among the meats offered by local farmers in the Greenmarket.

That day I was headed that day for Ottomanelli’s anyway, to order a wild hare for Thanksgiving dinner, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask our local – and very traditional – master Italian butchers to cut some chops exactly for ‘costolette d’agnello a scottadito, last night con inguazato.

My inspiration was Lorenza de’ Medici‘s simple outline inside her beautiful book, ‘Italy the Beautiful Cookbook‘.

The tradition would be to use rib chops, as they would be juicier than loin chops, less likely to dry out while cooking on a hot grill (or grill pan in my case), and because they would be easier for the diners to pick up, although risking the ‘burned fingers’ of the dish’s title, but Frank left a good amount of fat on each, and we were expecting to eat with knives and forks anyway.

I resisted the temptation to add something, an herb or a spice, to the lamb, because I wanted the dish to be authentic, and the taste of some very good lamb to be fully appreciated. It all worked, and the dish was delicious, but I might not be so restrained the next time.

• six lamb loin chops, cut one quarter of an inch thick, with a good amount of fat retained and including the flank sections, tucked in and secured with toothpicks, placed in one layer inside the well of a large plate, the juice of almost half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top, followed by a 3 tablespoons or so of olive oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper, allowed to marinate for almost an hour, turning several times, removed from the plate and dried on paper towels, pan grilled on each side, on a 2 burner-size cast iron ribbed pan for about a total of 6 minutes, turning several times, arranged on the plates, seasoned with a bit more salt and pepper, and a little more lemon juice drizzled on top
• a handful of fresh mizuma from Alewife Farm scattered on the plate and dressed with olive oil , sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper
• inguazato remaining from an earlier meal, reheated in a little olive oil, and also drizzled with a little water to loosen the couscous and its sauce (and the mix tasted at least as wonderful as it had 2 days earlier)
• the wine was an Australian (Barossa Valley) red, Glaetzer Wallace Shiraz/Grenache 2012, the gift of a visiting Australian artist friend
• the music was an extended broadcast of work by Elliott Carter, from Counterstream Radio, streaming

How does one lamb chop differ from the next? How can one be so much more delicious than the other? I don’t know the answer, but if he were around while I’m writing this, I’d start by asking Walter Adam, of Shannon Brook Farm.

Walter’s were pretty stupendous, last night.

• four lamb loin chops (21 ounces), grass-fed and organic, from Shannon Brook Farm, in the New York Finger Lakes, brought to room temperature, dried thoroughly, cooked on a very hot enameled cast iron grill pan for a total of 10 or 12 minutes, turning them over twice, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper after the first time, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, scattered with some chopped rosemary from Phillip’s Farm, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• one small finely-chopped red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a finely-chopped Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, introduced to 3 tablespoons of olive oil already been heated above a high flame inside a very large cast iron pan, then stirred for a minute or so until the alliums had just begun to color, a bit of a finely-chopped small Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm and some chopped spearmint leaves from Stokes Farm added and stirred in, followed by some baby cauliflower of several colors and one head of Romanesco broccoli from Norwich Meadows Farm, the florets and smaller stems separated into bite-size pieces, everything sautéed, or braised, a little water added if necessary, for 7 to 10 minutes, or until the ‘cabbages’ were barely tender, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground pepper
• the wine was a California (Santa Barbara) red, Rick Boyer Santa Barbara County Syrah 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Mozart’s Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 5, and his Sinfonia Concertante, performed by Vilde Frang, Jonathan Cohen conducting his chamber orchestra, Arcangelo, with violist Maxim Rysanov joining them in the Sinfonia Concertante

This is a terrific fish, and I’ve said so before. When I came across this site, where the first writer’s story, written only 4 years ago, pretty much sums up the more usual, negative American attitude toward the ‘sea robin’, or ‘gurnard’. Things may finally be changing however, thanks to some savvy fishers and their loyal customers.

Years ago I was on a small party boat fishing for fluke (a client treating myself and some colleagues), and I was really intrigued by these little guys I was pulling up out of the water. I thought they were “pretty and cute”, as one of the folks in that discussion says. The crew on our boat told us they were good for nothing, and tossed them back into the sea.

I now know how to appreciate them, and I have rhapsodized about them at least once before.  I hope that party boat crew has reconsidered its prejudices.

Here are the 9 fillets lying on the counter before they were cooked.

• nine small sea robin fillets, or ‘tails’, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, patted dry, then placed in a pan of sizzling olive oil and sautéed over medium-high heat for barely 2 minutes on each side, transferred to the plates, a little organic lemon from Whole Foods Market squeezed on top, then small spoonfuls of an olive tapenade sauce [see immediately below] spread over or between the fillets, sprinkled with some chopped thyme remaining from the preparation of the tapenade
• the tapenade was made by following this simple recipe; I don’t have a powered food processor, but it’s still easy working with only a chef’s knife; the ingredients were Gaeta olives from Buon Italia, Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, one well-rinsed chopped anchovy packed in salt from Buon Italia, well-rinsed Sicilian capers packed in salt from Buon Italia, freshly ground black pepper, olive oil, and the chopped leaves from a few fresh sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm

On Friday, at her Union Square Greenmarket stand, ‘Berried Treasures’, Franca Tantillo had steered me toward some fantastic, very sweet, juicy, tender, and buttery variety of zucchini she had grown this summer, ‘Costata Romanesco‘, an Italian heirloom variety.

Time for a side trip to Franca’s farm, with this short video, ‘A Day at Berried Treasures Farm with Brendan McHale‘.

At home I handled the vegetable pretty much as I often do when simply grilling summer squash, and they really were everything she had advertised. I also mixed them up with basil rather than some form of mint, as I have lately, mostly because the basil I had was in superb condition, something often difficult to arrange.

Here the squash slices are on the grill pan, after they had been turned the first time.

And here they sit waiting for the sea robin to finish sautéeing.

• two Romanesco zucchini from Berried Treasures, sliced, thickly, on the diagonal, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, finely-chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’ Farm, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, then pan grilled, turning 3 times, on top of a seasoned 2-burner ribbed cast iron plate, arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with leaves from a basil plant from Stokes Farm and thin slices of one small Calabrian medium hot cherry peppers from Alewife Farm, seeds and pith removed (although that removed all of their heat, which I think we would have welcomed) and allowed to rest for a few minutes while the fish was prepared
• the wine was a Spanish (Girona) rosé, Espelt Coralí rosé (100% Lledoner negre [Grenache] grapes), from Manley’s Wine & Spirits
• the music was the album, ‘Hand Eye’, from Eighth Blackbird

It started with leftovers Saturday night.

I knew we would enjoy the lobster-filled mezzalune, but what we had was only enough for a primi. I thought about a vegetable gratin for the secondo, but having found myself inside Whole Foods Market to pick up some milk, I visited the case where the salmon is displayed and the vegetables were pushed aside.

Except for the delicious January kale from central New York (and the micro-Romanesco and green cauliflower I added to the pasta).

• 8 pieces of lobster-filled mezzaluna remaining from an earlier meal, heated in a little butter then tossed with sections of tiny heads of Romanesco and green cauliflower from Norwich Meadows Farm and sprinkled with some additional squashed pink peppercorn
• mini baguette from Whole Foods

The second course was all brand new.

• one wild Sockeye salmon fillet (larger than usual, 1.15 pounds) from Whole Foods, seasoned with salt and pepper, rubbed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, and fried over medium-high heat for a few minutes on each side in an enameled, cast iron pan, finished with a squeeze of sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, a drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkling of micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge [note: this time, more or less unaccountably, I cooked the salmon on the skin side first, which may have had the effect of weakening the effect of the wonderful seasoning]
• a bouquet of delicious flat-leaf Winterbor kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in olive oil in which 2 medium cloves of garlic, halved, from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had first been allowed to sweat
• mini baguette from Whole Foods

• the wine throughout was a California (Napa) white, Sin Fronteras Chardonnay Napa 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music, for much of the meal, was Alfred Schnittke, Symphony No. 7, Lü Jia conducting the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra