polenta-coated skate, chervil; lettuce; grilled eggplant, mint

We were having a guest for dinner, but there was to be some serious conversation about a joint project before we sat down. I wanted to serve fish, and in fact the date for our gathering was settled partly on the basis of it being a Greenmarket day, where I might find at least one fish stall. Because of the focus of the evening the entrée choice couldn’t be too time-consuming or distracting, but it should be expected to please.

I picked skate wings, and I slightly abbreviated the recipe I use most of the time, but it all worked out fine, with the help of some great eggplant.

  • six small skate wings from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, coated all over with a local coarse polenta (‘Stone-Ground Polenta’ from Wild Hive Farm Community Grain Project), seasoned with salt and pepper, sautéed in olive oil and a bit of butter for 3 minutes or so on each side inside 2 heavy enameled cast iron oven pans (to avoid crowding), removed to the plates and kept warm while about 1 to 2 tablespoons of butter and sliced red scallions from Hawthorne Valley were introduced into the pan and stirred over a now-lowered flame, just enough to allow the onion to sweat a bit before the heat was turned off altogether and another 1 to 2 tablespoons of butter added to the pan along with the juice from a little more than half of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, the pan stirred for a bit to blend everything and make a proper sauce, which was poured over the skate wings, which were garnished with a scattering of micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • green and purple leaf lettuce [from Lani’s Farm, I think], dressed with a good olive oil, salt, and pepper
  • six small Japanese eggplants from Lani’s Farm, each cut in half  lengthwise and brushed with a mixture of olive oil, finely-chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, chopped peppermint from Lani’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, the eggplant pan-grilled, turning once or more, then arranged on an oval platter, sprinkled with more chopped peppermint, and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • there were many wines, but all except for the New Mexico (Sierra County) sparkling white, Gruet Brut NV, from Astor Wines & Spirits, which preceded the meal, were from Naked Wines; the first still wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2016
  • the music was our conversation

lemon-habanada pork chop, chervil; savoy cabbage, cumin

What can I say? A very juicy pork chop and an equally succulent cabbage, two of my favorite things, and here presented very simply.

  • two fresh 9 or 10-ounce pork chops from Flying Pigs Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides inside a very hot, heavy enameled cast-iron pan, one small, fresh floral-scented heatless orange habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, chopped, scattered on the top surfaces before half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon was squeezed over them, after which it was left on the surface of the pan between the chops, the chops placed inside a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, the lemon squeezed over the top once again and once again replaced inside the pan), the finished chops removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, some micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge arranged on top, some of the pan juices poured over the top of the chops, the remainder poured into a sauce boat and placed on the table
  • one small Savoy cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, quartered, cored, sliced into one-half-inch ribbons, sautéed in a scant tablespoon of olive oil inside a medium heavy, tin-lined copper pot until wilted but still crunchy, stirring occasionally, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and a little more than a teaspoon of toasted cumin seed mixed in, finished with half a teaspoon of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, the mix stirred and cooked another couple of minutes
  • the wine was a California (Napa) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2016, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the Mozart and Da Pone 1790 opera buffa, ‘Così fan tutte, ossia La scuola degli amanti’, in a performance with René Jacobs directing Concerto Cologne and the Cologne Chamber Choir

chervil, with eggs, bacon, and such

I wasn’t originally going to post this breakfast, since there was nothing special about it, but then I realized how seldom chervil appears on these pages – or anywhere for that matter, outside of France. It’s a subtle herb, and even more subtle as ‘micro chervil’. It’s also delicate in appearance; that and the combination of anise and parsley flavors interest me, and it has a particular affinity for eggs.

pasta, alliums, lemon, chilis, habanada, smoked swordfish

Pasta has a wonderful affinity for any smoked food, whether meat, fish, or vegetable, and this recipe, in which I had incorporated smoked monkfish the first time I worked with it, is an excellent exemplar.

  • one small pink onion (“I like to call them rosé onions”, Tyler, who grew them, told me) from Alewife Farm, thinly-sliced, and half a dozen sliced small red scallions from Hawthorne Valley Farm, sautéed together in 4 ounces of olive oil inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pan for 4 minutes, the juice of one and a half organic lemons from Whole Foods Market then added and the pan kept over a decent flame for another 2 or 3 minutes, stirring, the heat then reduced to low and a pinch of sea salt, some very good red pepper flakes (remaining from the delivery of an excellent Waldy’s Wood Fired Pizza a few days earlier), plus 4 or 5 chopped fresh medium-size habanada peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm stirred into the sauce until both the hot and sweet peppers had become pungent, 8 ounces of Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano linguine from Eataly which had been just cooked until barely al dente, added, along with – pouring very gradually while blending – almost a cup of reserved pasta water, continuing to stir until it had emulsified, one thinly-sliced 2 or 4-ounce piece of smoked swordfish from P.E & D.D. Seafood added and tossed with the sauced linguine, the dish transferred to low serving bowls, drizzled with a little olive oil around the edges, sprinkled with lemon zest and more red pepper flakes, and garnished with homemade toasted breadcrumbs

There was a small cheese course, but, for no reason in particular, I didn’t photograph it.

  • an Ardith Mae fresh chevre, served with freshly-ground black pepper, crushed pink peppercorns, micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge on the side, and lightly-toasted slices of a She Wolf Bakery sourdough baguette and an Orwashers sourdough with Moroccan olives

 

grilled dolphin with chervil; thyme-roasted treviso, balsamic

  • one 16-ounce Atlantic dolphin (‘coryphaena/dolphinfish‘) fillet, with skin, from Pure Vida Seafood, washed, dried, halved crosswise, rubbed with olive oil on both sides, coated with a mix of one half tablespoon of zest from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, an equal amount of lemon juice, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then allowed to sit for about half an hour, removed and the marinade wiped off, pan grilled over a medium to high flame, skin side up, for almost 2 1/2 minutes, turned, and grilled with the flesh side up for almost 4 1/2 minutes longer, the fillets arranged on 2 plates, drizzled with a little more lemon juice, scattered with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a bit of olive oil poured over the top [NOTE: there were no grill marks, unlike the last time I had used this simple recipe, which could mean any of several things: I hadn’t removed enough of the marinade before grilling, they sections were too crowded, and/or the flame was’t high enough]
  • 4 ‘mountain magic’ cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, warmed in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a little fresh oregano from Keith’s Farm
  • one small-to-medium head of Treviso radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, the water drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into four sections, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves with toothpicks), covered with lots of thyme branches from S. & S.O. Farm, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 10 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for around 8 minutes, then turned uncut side up and baked for about 2 minutes more, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
  • the wine was an Italian (Molise) white, L’Indovino Bianco, Salvatore 2015, from Astor Wines
  • the music was André Campra’s 1702  tragédie en musique, ‘Tancrède’, performed by Les Temps Présents, conducted by Olivier Schneebeli

costolette d’agnello a scottadito con inguazato; mizuma

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

duck breast, rosemary; mizuma; treviso, thyme, balsamic

For some time I’ve been telling myself that I should devise a way to indicate, at least for my own information, those meals that worked out particularly well, meals, or plates in some cases, that were absolutely scrumptious. I’m going to try something out for the first time with this post: I’ll use a red asterisk above the first line of text for those special cases. This meal deserved it, perhaps even more for my having begun it with no special expectations. There wasn’t anything really new in the ingredients or the processes, and yet each of the 3 elements in the main course was absolutely delicious, and each was a perfect compliment to the other 2. The cheese and the fruit were equally excellent, although I had nothing to do with making either, and the wine was absolutely extraordinary!

  • * one small (12-ounce) duck breast from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing for almost an hour, then seared/pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, the fatty side down first, for a total of 9 minutes or so, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], removed when medium rare, cutting it into 2 portions to confirm that the center was of the right doneness (and, as usual it was still undercooked, so the 2 halves were briefly returned to the pan), then left to sit for a couple minutes before being finished with a drizzle of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, a little chopped rosemary from S. & S.O. Farm, and a drizzle of olive oil [NOTE: the tenderloin had been removed from the breast before it was marinated, but seasoned like the rest of it, then fried very briefly near the end of the time the larger section was cooking]

  • * a handful of fresh mizuma from Alewife Farm scattered on the plate and dressed with olive oil , sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper

  • * one medium head of Treviso radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, the liquid drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into four sections, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves with toothpicks), covered with lots of thyme branches from S. & S.O. Farm, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 10 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for around 8 minutes, then turned uncut side up and baked for about 2 minutes more, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar

There was a small cheese course..

  • * ‘Bigelow’, a goat cheese from Ardith Mae, very thin toasts from a loaf of ‘8 Grain 3 Seed’ bread from Rock Hill Bakery, and a few chopped leaves of rosemary from S. & S.O. Farm

..and fruit.

  • * Niagara grapes [vitis labrusca ‘Niagara’] from Troncillito Farms

 

monkfish inguazato; roasted romanesco with habanada

Say it fast: ‘coda di rospo inguazato con broccoli romanesco‘.

We had returned from  a month in Berlin only 4 days earlier, where ‘monkfish’ is called Seeteufel [‘sea devil’], a response to its appearance when hauled from the sea. I’ve been enjoying using German names to describe food normally not specific to German cookery, but I wasn’t tempted this time, especially if I was also going to include the name of the vegetable that accompanied this wonderful dish.

And while both the German and the Italian names (the latter translates as ‘tail of a toad’) describe the fish itself better than the English, ‘monkfish’, none of them comes close to describing the taste of its flesh, its’ tail’, which is so much more pleasant than its scary mug.

  • two 9-ounce monkfish tails from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, prepared using a David Pasternak recipe which includes M’hamsa Couscous from Tunisia (purchased at Whole Foods), olive oil, sliced garlic John D. Madura Farm, two 400-gram cans of really superb Mutti baby Roma tomatoes from Eataly (which are also available at Whole Foods), and cracked Sicilian green olives from Whole Foods, and 2 whole dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia

breakfast, more German than usual, on a Berlin schedule

It was our first weekend back in New York. Berlin was still in our heads and our hearts, so while our regular Sunday home routine meant bacon, eggs, and toasted bread, this time it was Spiegeleier, geräucherter Speck, und frisches Multikorn-Brot.

But in a nod to our very local, New York tradition, there were also Habanada peppers, micro greens, and some herbs, although all but those peppers are now a part of German cookery as well.

We ate breakfast very late, at about 3, which would have put us on schedule for a German supper (going to have to work on that part)

  • the bacon was from Flying Pigs Farm the eggs from from Tamarack Hollow Farm, the luscious ‘8 Grain 3 Seed’ bread from Rock Hill Bakery, the purple micro radish from Windfall Farms, the fresh Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, the fresh thyme from S. & S.O. Farm, and the dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia
  • the music was Antoine Busnois, ‘Missa O Crux Lignum’, performed by the Orlando Consort

roasted striped bass; micro radish; pole beans, habanada

It was the first meal that I had actually cooked in over a month. Because of a little sleep deprivation and the inevitable jet lag which followed on our two flights from Berlin (a total of 12 hours), I didn’t want to be too ambitious, but I did want it to be a proper welcome back.

Also, it was my first visit to the Union Square Greenmarket since early October, and it was a Saturday, even under normal circumstances the most bountiful market day of the week. It was mid-November, but the stalls were overflowing with vegetables and virtually every other fresh summer or fall comestible: I felt like a kid in a candy store!

I had never seen such a variety of seafood available at one Union Square fish stand! Eventually I realized that much of the explanation lay in the fact that I’m never there as early as I was yesterday morning (I lay that entirely on the 6-hour time change  in my sleeping schedule).

I bought a single one-pound section of a striped bass fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, and since I was restocking  the larder after a hiatus in the kitchen, a lot of other things, including these yellow broad pole beans from Norwich Meadows Farm.