salmon, arugula; pasta, cucumber, alliums, balsamic, herbs

Whenever I have enough time in the kitchen to come up with a new treatment of a familiar ingredient, I go for it, but it doesn’t happen often enough. I repeat myself more often than I want to, even if there are always at least slight variations in the repetitions. I’d like to be more innovative, especially as I become more confident, but if a plan is in order, even if the product is supposed to seem like it just sort of ‘happened’, more time is needed than I usually allow myself.

I’ve always found it’s easiest to be innovative with pasta, for reasons related to its role as a ‘vehicle’ for incorporating any number of other ingredients. It’s made even more simple by having access to excellent local products (using local grains and vegetables) like those produced by Sfoglini.

The ‘other ingredient’ this time, aside from the grain of the pasta itself, was an Asian cucumber that I had picked up at the Greenmarket on Friday, but it was only the jumping off point for creating a dish I had never seen or eaten before.

The antipasto was a proper foil to the primi: I happened to have on hand a small stash of smoked wild salmon, some delicious sweet baby arugula, and a sweet Balthazar small whole wheat boule from Whole Foods

  • three ounces of Brooklyn’s Acme Smoked Fish Corporation ‘Ruby Bay’ smoked wild-caught King salmon, from Whole Foods, arranged on 2 plates with a bit of a simple sauce of crème fraîche from Ronnybrook Farm Dairy, chopped wild garlic stems from Lani’s Farm, and a little zest and juice of a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • baby arugula from Windfall Farms, dressed only with a little olive oil from Campania, Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina
  • slices of a Balthazar whole wheat boule purchased at Whole Foods Market

We were able to enjoy the pasta only a few minutes after finishing the antipasto because I had already prepped much most of the ingredients, including bringing the pasta water to a boil.

  • one chopped spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm and one chopped Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm softened in a little olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pot, before adding one ‘Asian’ cucumber from Shushan Valley Hydro Farms, cut into 2-centimeter pieces and already sautéed, also in olive oil, inside a separate tin-lined copper pan until it had begun to brown and blister, additionally, one tablespoon or so of ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘, and some juice of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, everything stirred together, and 8 ounces of Sfoglini ‘rye blend trumpets’, cooked seriously al dente, tossed in, along with some of the reserved pasta water, and stirred, some zest from the same lemon, plus a tablespoon or more of white balsamic vinegar and some chopped lime basil from Lani’s Farm added, and finally, one or two more tablespoons of butter, winding up with the contents of the pot stirred over a low-to-moderate flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, the pasta served in shallow bowls and sprinkled with red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the wine throughout the meal was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2015
  • the music was a pretty obscure 1717 opera by Antonio Vivaldi, ‘L’incoronazione di Dario’, in a performance by Ottavio Dantone and the Accademia Bizantina (a terrific recording, one we had first enjoyed last July)

scallops, mushroom, shallot, habanada; micro beet; mizuna

I had just picked up the scallops when I spotted the mushrooms. They were irresistible, so I decided they would join the shellfish for dinner.

I already had some beautiful purple mizuna at home that I had picked up on Friday from some of my favorite farmers, just returned to the Greenmarket after being away for the winter.

And so the meal came together, the work itself being little more complicated.

sunday breakfast, later than usual, but still a breakfast

More than bacon and eggs.

wine-garlic-anchovy spare rib braise; sweet potatoes; kale

I don’t seem to have cooked pork ribs since I began this blog. I now realize that was a mistake.

The little package of ‘baby back ribs‘ lay on top of the farmer’s iced box of various pork cuts at the Union Square Greenmarket. I had already picked out 2 small pork chops, but the neat tidiness of the square package, and the realization that it had been something like, ..forever, since I’d cooked pork ribs, was enough to persuade me to go for them as well.

My only concern was their modest weight (a hair over one pound), but I knew that I could add at least 2 very good vegetables to fill out our plates.

I chose some red sweet potatoes,

and some beautiful kale.

Another question became critical only once I started to plan the meal. How was I going to cook the ribs? I had no experience of my own, and I had never paid enough attention to what my Mother did to make them one of our favorite meals in the middle of the last century.

The suggestions I saw on line seemed too southwest barbecue-y (not really my thing and not really an indoor stove thing).  At first I thought there wasn’t anything useful in my paper files, but then Mark Bittman came to the rescue: I uncovered a 3-year-old New York Times clipping, ‘3 Ways to Do Ribs‘, where one of the recipes fit my parameters and looked very promising, for several reasons.

It was an excellent recipe; it was delicious, required few ingredients and relatively little attention, and it also allows for a number of variations.

  • one 1-pound package of baby rack pork ribs (in 2 sections) from Flying Pigs Farm, browned for 5-10 minutes of so in a little olive oil inside a large, tin-lined copper pan over medium-high heat, meatiest side down, sprinkled with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, left more or less undisturbed, then turned and the other side browned, after which one large clove of garlic from John D Madura Farm, crushed, one large salted anchovy from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, and one crushed section of a dried orange-golden habanada pepper (my signature innovation for this recipe) were added and and stirred in for a minute, followed by one third of a cup of white wine (a California [Clarksburg] white, Karen Birmingham 2015 Pinot Grigio), any browned bits from the bottom of the pan scraped up, the wine brought to a simmer, the ribs covered and cooked until tender, for about an hour, basically unattended (in fact, I let the pan sit, covered, for another 15 minutes while the sweet potatoes finished in the oven, so, once again, let me say that this is a low-stress recipe), the ribs arranged on the 2 plates, some of the truly delicious juices poured on top, garnished with some chopped parsley from Whole Foods Market
  • less than a pound of Japanese sweet potatoes from Race Farm, unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, cut into one-half-inch pieces, tossed in a bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper, and 3 garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm, arranged on a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, placing the garlic on the top of potato slices (a better idea would be to toss unpeeled garlic cloves into the bowl with the potatoes and seasonings), roasted for about 30 minutes, garnished with red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge
  • Siberian kale from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed, drained, briefly sautéed in olive oil in which 2 bruised and halved garlic cloves from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper, a very small amount of crushed dried crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, arranged on the plates and a little more olive oil drizzled on top

There was a small, very refreshing citrus dessert.

  • two large (we used fruit knives and forks) hybrid Kumquats (I forgot to get the name) from Dean & DeLuca

monkfish inguazato; mustard greens with garlic

I’ve made this Sicilian monkfish and couscous dish twice before and it just seems to get better each time. Last night I even managed to obtain socarrat!

It’s also pretty foolproof. I’ve served it with a vegetable each time, but the original, David Pasternak recipe suggests making it a one-dish meal, which would make it even simpler to put together.

I went with a vegetable again last night.

After I had picked up the fish at the Greenmarket earlier in the day, I also found the last bunch of mustard greens.

This is the couscous mix just after monkfish was added, and before it was covered.

  • two 9-ounce monkfish tails from Pura Vida Fisheries, 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, a little more than one and a half 16-ounce 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 part of one crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, cooked, because the monkfish tails were smaller than those described in the recipe, for a total of only 10 minutes
  • mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which several small halved cloves of garlic form John D. Madura Farm had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
  • the wine was an Italian (Sicily, Palermo) white, Corvo Insolia 2015 from Philippe Wine and Spirits, on West 23rd Street less than one block from our table, a wine we have often, and enjoy just as often
  • the music was the piano quintet in C-minor of Louis Ferdinand, Prince of Prussia, his Opus 1, published in 1803, Christoph Hammer, fortepiano, and the Schuppanzigh Quartet, heard streaming on Yle Klassinien

[1799 portrait of a dreamy Louis Ferdinand by Jean-Laurent Mosnier, from Wikipedia]

sunchoke pasta, wild garlic, habanada, cheese, micro beet

Simple.

Very good.

  • eight ounces of a locally-sourced and locally-produced, seasonal and and artisanal pasta, Sfoglini ‘Jerusalem Artichoke Fusilli’ (incorporating sunchokes grown by Norwich Meadows Farm) which had been cooked al dente during the preparation of a sauce which was nothing more than some chopped spring garlic from Lani’s Farm and a crushed section of a dried orange-golden habanada pepper warmed in a little olive oil inside a high-sided tin-lined copper pan, the cooked pasta tossed into the pan and stirred over a low-medium flame, along with some reserved pasta water, to emulsify it, the mix seasoned with salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, divided into 2 shallow bowls, a small amount of Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly grated on the top, and garnished with a little ‘Bull’s Blood Beet’ [beta vulgaris] from Windfall Farms
  • the wine was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Philippe Wines
  • the music was Vagn Holmboe (1909-1996), chamber music pieces written from the 1950s to the 1980s

sea perch, wild garlic, habanada, anchovy; radishes; rabe

With its gorgeous pink/red skin, I find it difficult to avoid bringing Sea perch home whenever I see it at a fish seller’s stall in Union Square, especially since it has so many other virtues, beginning with excellent flavor and texture, and including ease of preparation, at least as I have come to know it.

The radishes had come from the Greenmarket a full 2 weeks before and still tasted great. They  are roots, and apparently, not knowing when I would remember they were there, I had wrapped them carefully enough to extend their freshness.

The green vegetable which we enjoyed, described by the people who raised and sold it in the Greenmarket on Monday as ‘overwintered broccoli rabe’, is actually, and very surprisingly, a seasonal vegetable, at least in this new age of high tunnels and artisanal farming to supply fussy city people.

  • four 4-ounce sea perch fillets from American Seafood Company, brushed with olive oil and some chopped wild garlic from Lani’s Farm, a bit of crushed dried orange-golden habanada pepper, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then broiled 4 inches from the flames for about 4 minutes until the skin was crisp and the fish cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which one large rinsed, filleted salted anchovy from Buon Italia had been gently heated until it had fallen apart, the fish finished on the 2 plates with a drizzle of sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a small number of cut chives from Phillips Farm

here an image of the radishes about to go into the oven

 

pollock baked with zest, wild garlic, habanada; sprouts

It’s a great fish, and this is a great recipe, especially because it encourages some finely-drawn variations, none of which I think should be considered ‘the standard’.

In honor of these 2 noble fillets, and the delicate condiments with which I decided to grace them, I also added a couple of subtle elements to the yeoman vegetable which accompanied them, Brussels sprouts, which normally, but not always, goes it pretty much alone around here.

Wild garlic, a harbinger of spring (the season had in fact officially arrived that morning) seems designed to go with this wonderful dish.

  • two pollock fillets (9 ounces each) purchased from Carl Karlin of P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, rinsed, dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, placed inside a buttered baking dish, skin side down, spread with a mixture of soft butter, zest from a local sweet lemon from David Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, slices of wild garlic (bulb and stem) from Lani’s Farm, and a large pinch of crushed orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm (acquired fresh last season), the fish baked for about 15 minutes at 350º, removed to 2 plates, the cooking juices poured over the top, and a teaspoon of Mediterranean organic wild capers in brine (from a Providence, Rhode Island distributor) rinsed, drained and dried, along with the oil in which they had earlier been heated briefly, the pollock finished with a garnish of cut chives from Phillips Farm
  • Brussels Sprouts from Migliorelli Farm, tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper, four unpeeled cloves of garlic from  John D. Madura Farm (2 medium, 2 small), a pinch of a crushed dried chili (peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia), then spread, not touching each other, onto a large, well-seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted in at 385º (splitting the difference between the ideal temperature for the pollock and the sprouts) for about 20 minutes until very slightly browned and very slightly crisp on the outside, finished with a squeeze of a local sweet lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
  • the wine was a New Zealand (Awatere Valley, Marlborough) white, Peter Yealands Sauvignon Blanc 2016,from Phillipe Wine
  • the music was Handel’s early (1709) opera, ‘Agrippina’, René Jacobs directing the Academy for Ancient Music Berlin

duck, lemon, micro radish; fingerlings, red onion; spinach

It’s like game. It’s very much like game, both footed and winged. For most people however, it’s far more accessible. Very easy to find, it’s also very easy to prepare.

We love duck.

We also love roots and greens – and offbeat micro flavorings too.

I’ve now introduced the meal we enjoyed last night.

  • one 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 (in our sugar bowl, infused over a very long time with a whole vanilla bean), the duck left standing for 30 or 45 minutes before it was pan-fried over medium heat, first the fatty side down, in a tiny bit of olive oil, draining the oil part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], turned over half way through, removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and drops of a very good Campania olive oil, Lamparelli O.R.O., then scattered with some red wasabi micro radish from two Guys from Woodbridge [NOTE: the tenderloin would normally have been removed from the breast before it was marinated, but seasoned as the rest of the breast, and fried very briefly near the end of the time the bulk of the meat was cooking, dividing it into two parts and tucking them under the rest of the breast on the plates, but this time I could not find a tenderloin to remove]
  • banana fingerling potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm and ‘Magic Molly‘ purple fingerlings from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm (I wanted to use the purple potatoes but didn’t have enough, so I added the golden ones, and it worked out perfectly, for the aesthetic and the taste), tossed in a bowl with one sliced smallish red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a little olive oil, a generous amount of rosemary leaves from Eataly, more than a pinch of dark home-dried Habanada pepper, salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, then spread onto a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted at 374-400º for about 20-25 minutes, or until the potatoes were cooked through and the onion a little crispy
  • spinach from John D Madura Farm, washed in several changes of water, drained, gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which one two cloves of garlic from John D. Madura Farm, halved or quartered, had first been allowed to sweat, then seasoned with salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a little crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili (peperoncino di Sardegna intero) from Buon Italia, drizzled with olive oil and a little sweet loca lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island

This is the duck breast just before it went into the hot pan.

And this is the pan of seasoned and herbed potatoes and onion just before it went into the hot oven.

[the CD cover art is ‘La mano ubbidisce all’intelletto‘ [the hand obeys the intellect] (1983) oil on canvas, by Carlo Maria Mariani, an Italian exponent of Anacronismo and Pittura Colta]

breakfast with Heinichen

The Bach cantata we’d picked first didn’t quite have the zip we were looking for in our usual sacred early Sunday music, so we switched to a Heinichen mass.

I also introduced something fairly new to the usual Sunday egg formula, sorrel.

Otherwise the ingredients, described pretty much willy-nilly, were: