There’s a reason the antipasto insalata caprese [Eng. Caprese salad, or the salad of Capri] has become legendary. It’s extraordinarily delicious when the ingredients are the best. Also, mozzarella comes from the Campania region, as do, arguably, the best tomatoes in the world, and Capri has been a jewel off the coast of Campania for thousands of years.

Last night for the first time I thought about the origin of this arrangement of such simple ingredients, and I posited that some hotel chef had probably come up with it in the 1920s or 30s.  It seems I was right. An excerpt from one account of the history of the dish, with its reference to the Italian art movement of the century, made it all more interesting than I had expected (even the Farouk anecdote which shows up on that site and elsewhere pales in comparison):

“..the first historical mention is from the early 1920s when it appeared in the menu at the Hotel Quisisana where Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, founder of Futurism, in the summer of 1924 raged against pasta calling it ‘outdated’.”

“outdated”. Great.

• an insalata caprese, here a spread of alternating layers of a house-made mozzarella classica from Eataly, slice heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and whole leaves of Genoa basil from Windfall Farm, sprinkled with Maldon salt and coarsely-ground black pepper, drizzled with a great Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.)
• slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche

I had spotted the black pansotti in the display case the day before. It was beautiful. I knew I wanted to have it, to serve it, but I was already had fish for dinner that night in my bag, so I went back the next day.

• squid ink pansotti, with a filling of mascarpone, scallion, and lump crab meat, from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store, cooked very briefly, served with a sauce made by gently heating 2 Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic cloves in a little olive oil inside a heavy antique, high-sided coper pot until they had softened and become fragrant, adding a fresh medium size habanada pepper, sliced, near the end, stirring it with the pansotti for no more than a minute, then introducing the drained pasta and some of the reserved pasta water, cooking over a medium-high flame until the liquid had emulsified, a teaspoon or so of pink peppercorns tossed in and stirred, the mix arranged in shallow bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges, garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania/Ischia) white, Casa d’Ambra Ischia Bianco 2017, from Garnet Wines
• the music throughout the meal was mostly the album, ‘Martinů: Cello Sonatas Nos. 1-3’

Shishito peppers, and their Spanish cousins, pimientos de padron, have probably developed as many different reputations as they have individual consumers. There is no one typical experience with the fieriness of these unpredictable capsicums, but for those who make it through unharmed, or at least undaunted, there may be no more exciting appetizer.

And so it’s been for me, since Barry and I first encountered pimientos de padron,  in northern Spain 11 years ago, in the Basque coastal town of Getaria, in Gipuzkoa. While I don’t seek out real heat in any kind of pepper, life would be less interesting if I thought, when presented with a plate of shishito or padron, there wasn’t a chance I’d at least come across a suggestion of the kind of fire for which the Scoville scale was invented.

We’ve both found that the peppers sold by Alewife Farm this year fit that bill perfectly.

• just the right amount (I didn’t count or weigh them, but I still have some remaining in the crisper) of shishito pepers from Alewife Farm, washed, drained, dried, then sautéed over medium high heat in a broad cast iron pan for a few minutes, stirring, seasoned with Maldon salt, arranged on the plates, more of the salt added, to taste (the crystals can be seen in the image above)
• slices of a really seductive Pain d’Avignon multi-grain loaf from Foragers

I was going to write that the pasta was just a good artisanal squid ink strozzapreti with some tomatoes and herbs, but when I started composing the narrative for the recipe I realized that description was a little too simple.

• a handful of thinly-sliced celery stalk from Neversink Organic Farm sautéed in a little olive oil inside an antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until softened, and one large fresh clove of spring garlic from Alex’s Tomato Farm (it had survived very well in the crisper of the refrigerator), and one Keith’s Farm clove of rocambole garlic, both squished, heated until they had begun to color, a bit of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia added, the mix stirred a little before half a pound of squid ink pasta (8 ounces of Severino squid ink strozzapreti from Whole Foods Market) that had just finished cooking, al dente, was added, the mix stirred again, now with some reserved pasta cooking water, over medium high flame until the liquids had emulsified, and a mix of small heirloom tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm, halved or sliced, several times, depending on their size, sprinkled with whole medium basil leaves from a Full Bloom Market Garden plant from Whole Foods Market, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, finished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a bit of olive oil poured around the edges.
• the wine was an Italian (Abruzzo) white, Cantina Zaccagnini Pinot Grigio 2016, from Philippe Wines
• the music was the last of the 6 CD’s from the set, ‘Haydn: The “Sturm & Drang” Symphonies’

Everything about it.

• a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan heated on top of the stove until hot, its cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and once the oil was quite hot, one pound of rinsed and carefully dried large squid from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, which had been selected from the bucket right in front of me by the fisherman himself, Phil Karlin, who had come in with the catch from eastern Long Island early that day, quickly arranged inside, immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, most of one crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, and a section of orange/golden home-dried habanada pepper, picked up fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last summer, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by a douse of 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Whole Foods lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for only 5 or so minutes, when their bodies had ballooned, removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with a bit of their cooking juices that had been collected in a glass sauce pitcher

• two sliced heirloom tomatoes, one red, one orange, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, slipped into a 13-inch seasoned cast iron skillet in which a little olive oil had first been heated, seasoned with salt and black pepper, sprinkled with some whole leaves of a Full Bloom Market Garden Connecticut Valley basil plant from Whole Foods, arranged on the plates and drizzled with just a bit of balsamic vinegar

• ten ounces or so of a mix of small green and purple okra from Lani’s Farm, sautéed over a high flame inside a very large seasoned cast iron pan in only a little olive oil [I’ve just learned that the cast iron causes even green pods to blacken, but I’ve never really noticed that, at least not as a problem], adding a good part of one crushed dried dark habanada pepper, half way through, seasoned with sea salt
• the wine was an Italian (Calabria) white, Scala, Ciro Bianco, 2017, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was Handel’s  1726 opera, ‘Alessandro’ [as in, ‘The Great’], in a production largely featuring Greek performers, George Petrou conducting the Armonia Atenea, with Max Emanuel Cencic, Karina Gauvin, Julia Lezhneva, and The City of Athens Choir

They really were all ‘baby’ things, as I tweeted last night, baby squid, baby corn, and baby cucumbers (even if only the corn had been labelled as such), and all of them came from the Union Square Greenmarket. It certainly wasn’t something I had been after; it just happened, but fortunately, as I added then, it was all good, very good.

The corn was the only real surprise, since, before I shucked the little ones, the cobs had looked like they would be somewhat larger. Had I known the size while still at the stand, I would probably have bought more, but the plate proportions did end up just about right.

• a full pound of cleaned baby squid, bodies and tentacles, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, marinated for about 45 minutes (the first 25 or so in the refrigerator) inside a bowl containing a mixture of the zest and juice of most of one Whole Foods Market lemon, one clove of fresh minced fresh garlic head from Alex’s Tomato Farm, almost 2 tablespoons of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, a third of a teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the marinade, drained, pan-grilled briefly (virtually a matter of seconds, for the smaller pieces) on top of a seasoned cast iron double grill pan that had been allowed to get very hot on top of 2 burners and high flames, arranged on 2 plates, sprinkled with a bit of juice from the same lemon used in the marinade, scattered with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm, finished with a drizzle of olive oil

• ten ears of baby bicolor corn from Alewife Farm, shucked, sautéed inside a heavy medium antique copper pot, in which a little butter and a little less olive oil had been heated until fairly hot, sprinkled with Maldon salt, black pepper, and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper, finished with fresh summer savory from Alewife Farm

• five or six ‘Excelsior’ cucumbers (rather baby size) from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced lengthwise, sautéed in a little olive oil inside an oval antique copper pan until they had begun to caramelize, and, shortly before that moment, joined by slices of flowering spring shallot stems from Keith’s Farm, turned over, stirred around a bit, seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, sprinkled with cut dill flower, also from Alewife Farm, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with more dill
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wines
• the music was Johann Gottlieb Graun’s ‘Symphony for Strings and Basso continuo in B flat major’, in a terrific performance by the Frankfurt Capella Academica

I decided to avoid turning on the oven this time; it’s the medium I use to prepare shrimp using my more usual, and probably favorite, simple recipe. I think the alternative I chose, that involved several pans on top of the range, may have heated up the kitchen and breakfast room more than the oven would have, but it was a pleasant change, and delicious.

• squid prepared mostly according to this recipe of Josē Pizarro, using a pound of cleaned squid from American Seafood Company, one yellow onion from S. & S.O. Produce Farms, red fingerlings from Norwich Meadows Farm, peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, one spring/fresh garlic bulb from Berried Treasures Farm, fresh thyme from Stokes Farm, Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, and flat leaf parsley from John D. Madura Farms
• a mix of red grape tomatoes from Kernan Farms and golden cherry tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, heated gently in a little olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, with a mix of chopped herbs remaining from a couple of recent meals sprinkled on top
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Baglio di Grìsi Grillo 2016, from Eataly Vino
• the music was an inspired mix of the song of our resident garden Mockingbird and Ravi Shankar’s 1956 album, ‘Three Ragas’