spaghetto with olive oil, anchovies, capers, peperoncino

It’s sometimes called ‘midnight pasta’. I’ve cooked this simple dish many times, and it’s shown up on this blog four times before. I wrote last time, “It never fails to satisfy whatever either of us was looking for in a meal at the moment; usually it was when we didn’t have the time or patience to come up with something more complicated.”

It’s a great dish.

And so simple.

  • approximately 8 ounces of Afeltra spaghetto, from Eataly, boiled, but only until still pretty firmly al dente, tossed inside the same pot in which it had cooked with a very savory sauce (created with 4 garlic cloves from Trader Joe’s, roughly chopped, cooked in about a third of a cup of olive oil over low-medium heat until softened and beginning to brown, then 4 salted anchovies, well-rinsed, added to the pan and mashed with a wooden spoon, a tablespoon of Mediterranean organic wild capers in brine (from a Providence, RI distributor), rinsed and drained, half of one dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia), along with several tablespoons of chopped parsley from Eataly, and a little of the reserved pasta water, then simmered for another minute or so while the sauce was both emulsified and slightly reduced, the mix distributed in two bowls and sprinkled with a little more parsley
  • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Philippe Wines
  • the music was Lorenzo Ferrero‘s 1985 comic opera, ‘Mare nostro

John Dory, sorrel sauce; potatoes; cabbage, scallion, fennel

We ate in a modest Paris bistro last night.

The trip started when I spotted John Dory at the Greenmarket, earlier in the day.

After selecting 2 of the fillets in that picture, I turned around to find that another stall was displaying the last of its farmer’s ‘bouquets’ of beautiful red sorrel, very much alive, their roots still intact. Minutes later, remembering that I had some boiling potatoes at home and also one small Napa cabbage. I had already composed a meal which gradually looked more and more French, but it was only when we had sat down to it that I realized we were inside a French bistro, about to enjoy Filets de St-Pierre à l’oseille.

In between, the kitchen had managed to look more serious than usual, with a number of pans in the fire at the same time.

The cabbage is in the large deep pot; the scallions and fennel seed in the small copper skillet in front of it; the sorrel sauce was being prepared in the deeper copper pan to the top right; the potatoes were boiling in the clear glass antique Pyrex pan; the small early-19th-century enameled cast iron porringer on the electric hot plate was melting butter in which the fillets would soon be dipped, inside the shallow white bowl on the far right; and at this moment that bowl was resting on top of the glazed ceramic baking pan in which they were shortly to be roasted. The fish is waiting out of the camera frame, on the counter to the right of the stove and the sink.

Note: I would never have been able to juggle this kitchen army only a few years ago, but practice makes courage.

This is a picture of the John Dory fillets as they emerged from the oven.

Fortunately this fish is a little firmer than some, because I had already placed the John Dory on the 2 plates before I realized that, to do it properly, it should rest on a pool of sauce. This meant that I now had to arrange the sauce to the right of each fillet, then gingerly lift the fish – turn it 180 degrees (to achieve a relatively aesthetic posture) – and bring it back down on top of its condiment.

The vegetables then followed. They were easy.

  • two 6-ounce fillets of John Dory (aka le Poisson de St.Pierre, Pesce San Pietro, Petersfisch, Heringskőnig, Zeus Faber [yeah.], or, funny-shiny-one with-the-sourpuss-face) from Pura Vida Seafood, washed, dried, seasoned with good sea salt and freshly-ground pepper on both sides, dipped in a tablespoon of melted butter (here it’s always ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘), arranged inside a glazed ceramic oven pan just large enough to accommodate them without crowding, roasted in a 425º oven for about 8 minutes, removed and arranged on the top of a pool of sorrel sauce which had been prepared just before
  • one decent-size shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm, minced, cooked with a tablespoon or less of butter melted inside a tin-lined copper pan until soft, followed by a handful of red sorrel (whose red veins account for the pink tone of the sauce) from Two Guys from Woodbridge, their stems removed and the leaves scissored into roughly one-inch lengths, stirred and cooked until the sorrel ‘melted’, then one fourth of a cup of a good Sauvignon Blanc (Rumpus 2015) added and cooked until reduced by a fourth, 4 ounces of Ronnybrook Farm crème fraîche introduced and cooked gently for a few minutes, stirring, until it was able to coat a spoon, the seasoning corrected, and the sauce removed from the heat
  • four small Carola potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, boiled, drained, dried in the pan, halved, reserved until the fish had been arranged on the plates, when they were scattered with chopped lovage from two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the white and lighter green parts of a Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, heated along with a tablespoon of fennel seed in one tablespoon of butter inside a tin-lined copper skillet until the scallion had softened and the fennel become pungent, then set aside while another tablespoon of butter, or a little more, was melted inside a large enameled cast iron pot and one 8-ounce Napa cabbage, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, roughly chopped, was added and stirred until wilted, after which the reserved scallion-fennel mixture, some sea salt, and a little freshly-ground black pepper were added, and the cabbage stirred some more, finished by tossing in the green tops of the scallions, chopped
  • the wine was a California (Carneros) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2015, form Naked Wines
  • the music was 2 very different, very rich new works, Andris Dzenītis, ‘E(GO)’, and Lorenzo Ferrero, his string quartet cycle ‘Tempi di Quartetto’

La Gricia, alla Trattoria da Lucia a Trastevere

Years ago we used to enjoy this, what I will call ‘perfect meal’, very often, but, maybe because it’s been so long since we were in Italy, or maybe because I’ve become obsessed with cooking local fish, La Gricia seems to have made only one appearance on this blog before tonight.

It’s usually described as a traditional dish of the shepherds in the hills of Lazio. We first enjoyed it in 1996 while sitting at a table in the little street outside Piccola Trattoria da Lucia, in Trastevere, served by the founder’s grandson, Renato Bizzarri (the address of the restaurant is Vicolo del Mattonato 2).

This is Fred’s recipe. Note that the proportions are for only one serving, I assume in tribute to the setting in which the dish was traditionally prepared, that is, solitary, by one shepherd, for one shepherd.

  • 500 grams (eight+ ounces) of Rigorosa di Gragnano Penne Rigate from Eataly, boiled until barely al dente, some of the liquid reserved and the pasta drained and tossed into a large enameled cast iron pot in which 4 ounces of guanciale from Buon Italia, cut in 1/4 to 1/2 inch square pieces, had been heated with 2 tablespoons of olive oil for about a minute, a bit of reserved pasta water then added to the pot, everything stirred for a minute to emulsify the sauce; several tablespoons of freshly-ground black pepper added and stirred into the mix, which was then removed from the heat and allowed to cool just a bit before 3 or 4 tablespoons of roughly-shredded pecorino, also from Buon Italia, was tossed in, the pot left standing for 30 seconds or so, the dish then served in shallow bowls, with more cheese and black pepper on the side
  • the wine was an Italian (Umbria) white, Arnaldo Caprai Grecante Grechetto dei Colli Martani 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault

We finished the meal with two ‘Pixie tangerines’ from Whole Foods.

spicy cured grilled salmon; roasted roots; tomato and leek

The storm on Tuesday meant that our local fishermen did not go out, which meant there was no fish in the Greenmarket on Wednesday. But we had a guest for dinner once again. I wanted it to be at least a little special, but we had enjoyed goat chops the day before and I didn’t want to serve a meat entrée 2 days in a row.

Although I could have devised an interesting pasta dish, I didn’t really have any what I would call starring vegetables on hand, so that didn’t inspire me. While I knew our friend had said he was not a fan of salmon, I decided to take a chance with the wild Coho fillet available at Whole Foods. While it’s a treat I can ‘reel in’ almost any day of the week, and sometimes it’s not even been frozen, I still think of it as special. It’s not local but it it’s wild, not farmed salmon, probably not the species or form of this fish generally available in Germany.

I had what I thought would be some excellent vegetable accompaniments for the recipe I had in mind, so I really looked forward to putting this meal together.

  • one 22-ounce wild sockeye salmon fillet from Whole Foods, rinsed dried, coated on both sides with a mix of some light brown vanilla bean-infused turbinado sugar, sea salt, freshly ground pepper, freshly ground allspice, freshly ground nutmeg, the zest of half of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and some olive oil to make it a paste of sorts, allowed to marinate in the refrigerator in a covered dish for about 3 hours, the fish then rinsed, patted dry, brought to room temperature, oiled generously, and cooked on an enameled grill pan, flesh side down, for a few minutes, then turned over, removed when the inside was not quite pink, the outside slightly crisp and smoky, divided into 3 pieces, arranged on plates, drizzled with a little olive oil and a little juice from the lemon mentioned earlier, and served with lemon wedges [the recipe is little altered from this one from Melissa Clark]
  • four different root vegetables already on hand, about 24 ounces total, some peeled, cut into approximately 3/4″ pieces (they were: carola potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm; celeriac from Tamarack Hollow Farm; parsley root from Norwich Meadows Farm; and carrots from Norwich Meadows Farm), plus several halved shallots from Norwich Meadows Farm, all tossed together in a bowl with two tablespoons of olive oil; salt; freshly-ground pepper; one crushed piece of a mahogany-colored home-dried dark, dried heatless Habanada pepper acquired last summer fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm; and the leaves from several sprigs of rosemary from Eataly, everything arranged, not touching each other, on 2 large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pans and roasted in a 400º oven for about 35 minutes, then sprinkled with 2 sliced garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm, and some small fresh sage leaves from Eataly, stirred around a bit, removed and divided onto 3 plates
  • one large leek from Phillips Farm, cleaned, halved lengthwise, chopped not too finely, cooked in a little heated olive oil until wilted, then some Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, each divided into 4 slices, slipped into the pan and barely heated, a generous amount of chopped red thyme from Phillips Farm and a bit of (vanilla bean-infused) turbinado sugar stirred into the vegetables, some of the leek’s green parts, chopped stirred in, the mix served in small oval bowls on the side of the plates, because it was fairly liquid
  • the wine was an Oregon (Umpqua Valley) red, Scott Kelley Pinot Noir Oregon 2015, from Naked Wines
  • the music was our conversation

grilled marinated goat chops; roasted sweet potato; kale

Goat chops. An unfamiliar treat on most tables, and, even if we’ve been enjoying them for years (beginning long before this blog), not familiar enough on ours. This is especially how we both feel after this meal.

The chops and the vegetables were local, the goat from west central Vermont, the Japanese sweet potatoes from northwest New Jersey’s Kittatinny Valley, and the kale from the Catskills, northwest of us.

 

dining out in Bushwick, at Faro, with earth, wheat, and fire

Until now at least, this blog has been about meals we have enjoyed at home, and, almost without exception meals James has prepared, but we do occasionally eat out, and we’ve very occasionally been able to overcome our general resistance to photographing food in public. Last night was one of those times.

On Monday, preparation of dinner at home was out of the question because of our schedule, and that of our visiting friend Nico, now stranded here by the storm. We arranged to eat at one of our favorite places, in somewhat distant Brooklyn, even splurging on car service to get to and from it, something we rarely do.

Faro is relatively new, casual in appearance, but very beautiful, airy and comfortable, with wonderful service by good people, has seasonal menus with many of its elements from local suppliers, is very serious about food, but without any priggishness, and it seems to be our current favorite choice for dinner ‘off-site’.

Last night there were 3 of us, and we ordered 6 different plates, sharing a taste of each. I don’t think there were any obvious favorites: They were all delicious, fun to read about while looking at the descriptions on the small menu, and exciting to see spread before us.

By the way, the restaurant’s motto, ‘earth, wheat, and fire’, seems to relate to its emphasis on their local farmers, the various grains of their handmade pasta, and the wood fires from which many elements of their meals emerge. Sounds good to us, and the smells are wonderful, the moment you walk through the door.

Of the plates in the pictures above, the first 3, while not necessarily designed as ‘appetizers’, were our first courses; the last 3 were all pastas, at least in the broader sense.  The names and main ingredients of those dishes, listed from top to bottom, can be seen below, in the exact descriptions which appear on the menu.

the first courses

  • CAULIFLOWER  dates, ‘ndjua vinaigrette
  • EMBER ROASTED RUTABAGA  mustard, watercress, egg yolk, crouton
  • GARNET SWEET POTATO  merguez, shiitake, cumin vinaigrette

and the second

  • GNOCCHI ALLA ROMANA  roasted cabbage, parsnip, caraway creme fraiche
  • GNUDI  pork ragu, fennel, cream
  • SQUID INK CHITARRA  cockles, pancetta, green onion, calabrian chili

We enjoyed 3 different wines, some by the glass, and last night none necessarily attached to any particular dish.

  • VINHO VERDE, LOUREIRO 2015  aphros amphora ‘phaunus’, minho, from portugal
  • TEMPRANILLO RESERVA 2009  vina olabarri, from Spain (Rioja)
  • MULLER THURGAU 2014 de tarczal, from Italy (Alto Adige)

The Portuguese bottle was, literally, extraordinary, in both the process by which it is produced and in its very special taste.

 

 

 

coppa, cress; mushroom ravioli, alliums, lovage, parmesan

Dinner was leftover salumi and an emergency pasta ration, but it was much more than that.

The primi was featured the remainder of the package of coppa we had enjoyed the night before, since I had bought more than enough for that meal.

  • about 3 ounces of local New York sweet coppa, from Georgio’s Salami, purchased at Eataly, served with upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, both drizzled with a good olive oil from Campania: Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina 
  • pieces of bread broken from an Eric Kayser ‘baguette monge’

The mushroom-filled pasta had been in the freezer for a few weeks, and, because I had several interesting alliums – and some lovage! – I decided this was its chance to shine. It also meant we could enjoy a Pinot Noir we had been anticipating.

  • Rana Portobello mushroom-and ricotta-filled ravioli from Eataly, quickly boiled, drained and shoveled around in a broad enameled cast iron pan in which sliced spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm, Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper had been very briefly heated in olive oil, a bit of pasta water added, the liquids emulsified, chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge added, the contents of the pan placed in shallow bowls, a little roughly-grated Parmesan cheese dusted on top before the pasta was garnished with cut chives from Phillips Farm

 

breakfast kit, easily assmbled

I’ve been serving these early-day (Sunday and holiday) meals for so long and posting about them for almost as long, that I don’t think I really have to describe how they are put together. I mean, it’s just bacon and eggs! Also, each of these breakfasts normally relates pretty closely to the other, their ingredients don’t really vary that much, and exactly where each of them appears on the plate may as often be by chance as design, so I’m just going to list them:

coppa; herbed grilled swordfish; sautéed cabbage, alliums

We had learned we would probably have a guest from Berlin for Saturday dinner only the night before. I knew Nico has gotten excited before about the fish bounty available in the city, so it had to be piscatorial, which meant a trip to the Union Square Greenmarket Saturday morning.

By the time I got there tuna steaks of any proper size were gone, so I went with swordfish, which I knew would be almost as easy to put together, even if I expected to be distracted by a guest.

I didn’t have quite enough baby kale to serve 3, so while I was there I also looked for more of it, or maybe a different green, to accompany the fish. I didn’t find fresh kale, but I did find some good-looking Napa cabbage, a vegetable just different enough to commend itself to this meal.

The dinner began with sparkling wine and grissini.

A salumi appetizer followed.

The main course was the swordfish, marinated, breaded, pan-grilled, and garnished, with gently-wilted seasoned/seasonal cabbage.

  • three 7-ounce swordfish steaks, off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated for half an hour in a mixture of olive oil, chopped red thyme Phillips Farm, a very small amount of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili (peperoncino di Sardegna intero) from Buon Italia, and a tiny amount of chopped scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, drained well, covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, removed, seasoned with a little sea salt, a little local sweet lemon juice from Fantastic gardens of Long Island squeezed on top, sprinkled with cut chives from Phillips Farm and drizzled with a little olive oil
  • the white and light green parts of 3 or 4 scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, and 2 chopped garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm heated in one or 2 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pot over medium-hight heat, stirring occasionally, until the  garlic started to color, one 8 or 10-ounce Napa cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm, chopped, half a teaspoon of sea salt, and a little freshly-ground black pepper added and sautéed for about a minute, a fourth or a third of a cup of water added, the cabbage covered and cooked until wilted (about 3 minutes), the scallions greens added and tossed with the cabbage, uncovered, for about 2 minutes, or until most of the water had evaporated and the cabbage tender
  • the wine with the fish course was a Spanish (Galicia) white, Lolo Albariño Rias Baixas 2013, from Chelsea Wine Vault

There was a little cheese.

  • the cheeses all from Consider Bardwell Farm, were, from the bottom,‘Manchester’ goat milk, ‘Bark’ cow cheese (“bloomy rind pasteurized, wrapped in spruce bark”, and aged in Brooklyn), and ‘Barden’ blue cow cheese
  • a small mix of herbs not used in earlier courses
  • slices of a ‘Westphalian Style Pumpernickel bread‘ from Chicago’s Rubschlager Bakery, via Schaller & Weber in Yorkville, Manhattan, and also more of the Bread Alone miche included with the salume, now sliced thinly and toasted

 

roasted sea bass, herbs, lemon; purple fingerlings; collards

This looks very serious.

It was, but it was neither as difficult as looks, nor as ‘heavy’.

What it was, was delicious.

Scurrying around quickly for an idea for preparing 2 beautiful Black Sea Bass fillets Friday night, I grabbed a printed sheet from my ‘bass’ file, and went with something which I discovered only after the meal was actually a recipe for oven-roasted Striped Bass, not ‘Black Sea Bass’. They are two different fish, Striped Bass being moderately fatty and maybe a little more ‘fishy’ (not a pejorative, for me), so what I did may have been a bit heavy for the more delicate fish.

While I was cooking I wondered why I hadn’t prepared sea bass this way before, but in the end it worked out fine, and, with the vegetables I chose, possibly better than a more minimal treatment would have this time.

The rainbow chard was a gentle enough choice, but I added a little chili pepper to it, which brought it out of the shadows, and the potatoes I chose were pretty serious, and not just for their dark color.

  • two Black Sea Bass fillets from Pura Vida Seafood placed, skin side down inside a glazed ceramic baking pan in which a teaspoon or so of olive oil had been poured, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a mix of parsley and sage from Eataly, lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, red thyme from Phillips Farm, and a bit of a home-dried heatless, orange/gold Habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last fall), the fish topped with a coating of homemade bread crumbs and drizzled with 2 teaspoons of olive oil, transferred to a 425º oven for 8 or 10 minutes, finished on 2 plates with a squeeze of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and a light drizzle of olive oil
  • ten ounces of ‘Magic Molly‘ purple fingerling potatoes from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with one small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, thinly-sliced, a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh rosemary from Eataly, the potatoes then arranged cut-side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, the roasted at about 375º for about 25 minutes, or until cooked through, the cut side beginning to brown (if it’s possible to tell, since the color is already almost black), scattered with micro purple radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the part that remained from a meal the other night of one bunch of collard greens from Phillips Farm, stripped of most of their stems, torn into small sections, 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, wilted inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pot in which 2 halved garlic cloves from from Healthway Farms & CSA had first been allowed to sweat in some olive oil, then finished with salt, pepper, a little crushed dried Sardinian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, and a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, ROX Scott Peterson Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2015 from Naked Wines
  • the music was Hindemith’s ‘Mathis der Maler’, the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Rafael Kubelik, the cast including Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau,  Karl Kreille, Gerd Feldhoff, James King, Urszula Koszut, u.a.