Note to self:  You have permission to reproduce this meal any time you want to.

I was once on fairly intimate terms with Julia child (I mean the books, not Julia herself, or even her TV show, because I lived in Providence and Newport, not Boston, and I didn’t watch much television of any kind, and I certainly wasn’t about to do so in the 70s).  I did prize her first two books however, and I still have them, the spine of the older one lovingly repaired with white duct tape.  Among my campaign medals I count the fact that I had managed to bring to the table each of her three variations on the French preparation of tournedos, some more than once.

Okay, I confess that like everyone else in the country almost half a century back, I actually did watch some of ‘The French Chef’.  The picture below is my favorite Julia image.

(I never get this kind of help)

 

Until this week I hadn’t really thought of tournedos since the 1970s, and I probably would not have found myself there tonight, except for the fact that I had almost tripped over a pair of five-ounce filets at the Millport Dairy stall earlier this week.  Everything I’ve purchased from John has been exceptionally good;  I expected nothing less of his beef, and the two vacuum packages looked like they might have been made for me/us.

I had no mushrooms, no artichoke hearts, and no foie gras or truffles on hand, so I went with a slight modification of Julia’s basic steak au poivre, which she allows as an alternative to the more elaborate preparations.   It was delicious.  The steaks were of the classic size, about 2 1/2 inches in diameter, and about an inch thick,.  They looked much more impressive once I had encircled their extraordinary leaness in pork fat, but that took some doing. Just as I was about to perform the operation I noticed for the first time that the Niman Ranch fat I had chosen to use was salt pork, which wouldn’t do at all.   I scurried about a bit and succeeded in boiling the pork strips, neutralizing most of the salt, but then I found the segments weren’t going to cooperate in encircling the filets.  I pulled out my jar of toothpicks and, with the help of good kitchen twine, finally succeeded in taming the now not-so-salty pork.  My tournedos now looked like mines, but they were going to keep their shape and retain their juices.

• two perfectly-sized filet steaks, or tournedos, wrapped in parboiled strips of Niman Ranch salt pork, dried, pressed with crushed peppercorns  and allowed to rest for about 45 minutes before sautéed in a mixture of butter and olive oil, for about 3-4 minutes each side, removed, seasoned with salt (with a very light hand, considering their jackets) and kept warm, the butter, oil and accumulated meat fat then removed from the pan, sliced fresh garlic and baby leeks from Rogowski Farm added, along with a little butter, and stirred for a minute, a little beef stock introduced and boiled down until thickened, while scraping up coagulated cooking juices, followed by a few tablespoons of cognac, boiled until its alcohol evaporated, and finally, off heat, two tablespoons of butter swirled into the sauce about half a tablespoon at a time before it was poured over the filets
• Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slow-roasted with olive oil, dried Italian oregano, and quartered Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm
• Upland Cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• orange carrots from Keith’s Farm, rolled in olive oil, salt, and pepper, roasted at 400º for about half an hour, removed from the oven and sprinkled with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
• kale from Rogowski Farm, wilted with olive oil in which thinly-sliced Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had been heated, then seasoned with salt and pepper, and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a French Bordeaux, Château Tour Caillet 2012 
• the music was that of the handsome Ferdinand Ries, his Piano Concerto No. 3

Ferdinand Ries (1784-1838)

 

[the Julia Child image is from Wine Curmudgeon; the very hot image of Ferdinand Ries is from Wikipedia – Die freie Enzyklopädie]

Note to self:  Despite the circumstances of its genesis, this meal was very, very good.

Having been reminded yesterday that there probably wouldn’t be be time to put meals together on three of the next six nights (because of performances which would get us home pretty late), I made a list of the more perishable vegetables I had on hand, determined not to lose any of them to advancing age.  The list included upland cress; leeks, both regular and baby; spinach; spring, or green garlic; cherry tomatoes; kale, and most of my fresh herbs.

Last night, after a certain amount of on-line research and mental juggling, I managed to assemble a meal which put a good dent in those stores.  I had been concerned that my ‘expiration date’ priorities might compromise the best prescription for the beautiful 12-ounce tilefish fillet I had brought home from the Greenmarket earlier in the day, but, as it turned out, I needn’t have worried:  The entire entrée was a small triumph, thanks to the suppliers, the internet and two recipes which were totally new to me.

Together, Melissa Clark’s, ‘Pan-Seared Tilefish with Garlic, Herbs and Lemon‘, and Mary Ann Esposito’s, ‘Cherry Tomatoes with Leeks and Thyme [Pomodorini con Porri e Timo]’, seemed to have been created with both my situation and my particular tastes in mind.  Using them in combination, I was able to use at least some of the two forms of leek, most of the tomatoes, a good portion of the herbs, two of the three pieces of spring garlic, and all of the spinach I had painstakingly separated from those leaves which had not quite made it while waiting a few days to be used.  My only innovations were the addition of spinach to the leek-and-tomato dish, the very generous amount of herbs I lavished on the tilefish, and my decision to not remove its skin.

I had never heard of the tilefish (the species in our waters is Lopholatilus Chamaeleonticeps, aka Great Northern Tilefish, Golden Tilefish, etc.) until six or seven years ago, but I’ve been delighted with it both times I’ve cooked it.  I roasted it each time, first with a lot of butter and fresh breadcrumbs, later on a bed of leeks and bacon pieces.  Yesterday I sautéed it, and baby leaks and herbs were pretty front and center this time.

It’s a magnificent fish.

Looking forward, tonight we will enjoy two small filet mignon the Greenmarket’s from Millport Dairy, which will open up a number of possibilities for using the perishable vegetables and herbs which remain.  I’m hoping I’ll be able to squeeze in at least one root as well.

But this is what we enjoyed last night:

• Pan-seared tilefish from American Seafood Company in the Greenmarket, prepared after this Melissa Clark recipe, using two stems of fresh, or spring garlic from Rogowski Farm and one of baby leek, also from Rogowski, thyme from Eataly, mint from Eataly, chives from Whole Foods, and tarragon from Whole Foods
• Maine Backyard Farms cocktail tomatoes from Whole Foods and a large leek from S. & S.O. Produce Farms, prepared following this recipe, using thyme from Eataly and a bit of Malawi raw cane sugar (spooned out of my sugar bowl, where it is stored with one whole vanilla bean), and finished with a large handful of washed baby spinach from Rogowski Farm
• Italian semolina bread from Baker’s Bounty
• the wine was a Portuguese white, Quinta do Alqueve Fernão Peres 2010
• the music was Ferdinand Ries‘s Piano Concerto No. 2

 

I had bought the very last Tilefish from Nadia of American Seafood at the Greenmarket, and when I said something about wishing I had photographed it before packing it in my insulated bag, she was kind enough to unwrap and lay it out on fresh ice for this picture:

 

 

This was a very German meal which warmed the kitchen, the breakfast room, and a pair of interested diners on a cold February night.

• two extraordinarily juicy smoked pork chops from Millport Dairy, seared briefly in a hot pan on both sides, buried in a pot of Sauerkraut (that is, a jar of drained and well-rinsed Bubbies sauerkraut, chopped onion from Lucky Dog Organic, chopped carrot from Keith’s Farm, whole allspice berries and pepper corns, one large bay leaf, salt, and enough water to cover everything, brought to a boil and simmered for about an hour) and heated for about twenty minutes
• two unpeeled ‘red potatoes’ (red skins, white inside) from Samascott Orchards, scrubbed, then boiled in heavily-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot,  quartered, tossed with a little butter, and sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs which had been browned in butter
• the wine was an Australian Riesling, Pewsey Vale Eden Valley Dry Riesling 2013
• the music was a number of delicate early-nineteenth-century chamber works by Franz Xaver Wolfgang Mozart

I was thinking that it was Tuesday night that would bring single-digit temperatures, and then mid-evening tonight I suddenly learned that the temperature outside was 8º.  I thought that I wasn’t prepared for a dish fully appropriate to that kind of environmental challenge, but it turned out I was wrong.  This Mark Bittman recipe which I think I had torn out of the New York Times sixteen years ago was more than up to the challenge of a cold night, although, to tell the truth, the apartment remained warm, and there wasn’t even any chilling howl of wind to be heard.

By the way, Bittman’s linguine and walnut recipe remains my favorite version for that pairing, and there are certainly many of them.

• the pasta was Setaro linguine, from Buon Italia, the shelled walnuts from Whole Foods, the garlic, produced by Christopher Ranch, was from Eataly, and the parsley from Whole Foods
• the wine was an Italian white, Cesani Vernaccia di san Gimignano 2013
• the music was from the early nineteenth century, that of Ferdinand Reis and Franz Xaver Wolfgang Mozart; very sweet

Still on schedule:  Tomorrow will still be a Kassler Ripchen-und-sauerkraut day, even if the evening temperature reading is supposed to be a balmy 20-something Fahrenheit.

Dessert was a plate of three cheeses (L-R in the picture below), Manchester goat cheese from Consider Bardwell, Frère Fumant sheep cheese from 3-Corner Field Farm, and Twig farm (Vermont) washed rind goat cheese from Eataly,),  with an Anjou pear from Locust Grove Orchards.

 

This Sunday evening meal began with plain smoked eel and continued with a simple sirloin steak.

• smoked eel, packaged by H. Forman, from Eataly, and a dollop of  softened cream cheese mixed with double cream, shallot, chives, capers, lemon, spring garlic, salt, and pepper, served with upland cress from Two Guys from Woodbridge, dressed with good olive oil, fresh lemon, salt, and pepper
• thin slices of Rustic Classic bread from Eataly
• the wine was a Sardinian white, Le Giare Vermentino di Sardegna 2013
• the music, during both courses, was that of Ferdinand Ries, friend, pupil and secretary to Beethoven, beginning with his 1826 Piano Concerto No. 8, ‘Gruss an den Rhein’

 

• sirloin steak from Millport Dairy, seared and cooked for a few minutes in a very hot iron pan, seasoned, removed, cut into two pieces, allowed to rest for five minutes while aprinkled with two small sliced baby leeks from Rogowski Farm, and drizzled with lemon and olive oil
• ‘red potatoes’ (white inside) from Samascott Orchards, cut into wedges and roasted at 450º for about 35 minutes along with thyme leaves from Eataly and several unpeeled garlic cloves, also from Samascott Orchards, and finished with chopped parsley from Whole Foods
• the wine was a California red, F. Stephen Millier Angel’s reserve Cabernet Sauvignon Lodi 2013
• we continued with the charming music of Ferdinand Ries, here his Symphonies No. 1 and 2 (1809 and 1814, respectively)

It was Sunday morning, or rather Sunday afternoon.  Something eggs seemed to be in order, but perhaps nothing really special, considering the hour.  It had to be tasty, but also practical, that is, I was thinking it would be good if I could include mostly ingredients ready to leave the larder.

It was also going to be easy, if not quite instant.

I started by buttering a large-ish enameled iron pan and placing in it a layer of a few ounces of thinly sliced Colameco’s capocolla from Whole Foods which I had almost forgotten was still in the refrigerator. I broke 6 eggs from Millport Dairy on top of the salume, fried them until the whites had not quite become solid, seasoned them and poured over them a bit of tomato sauce.  The sauce was composed as they cooked, and included sliced spring garlic, heated in olive oil, before tomato juices from the canned tomatoes used the night before were added, the sauce then reduced until slightly thickened.  There were various chopped herbs involved somewhere along the way, leftover from two meals of the day before.  I finished the eggs with a sprinkling of grated Parmesan cheese and served them with toast made from both a sourdough bâtard from She Wolf Bakery and a Rustic Classic loaf from Eataly.

This rarely happens around here, even looking over a much longer stretch of time, but last night I served an almost exact duplicate of a meal of John Dory fillet I had put together little more than a month ago.  They differed only in my replacing the cut chives in the January version with sliced baby leeks from Rogowski Farm.  Also, the source of two of the ingredients was different (the fennel and the thyme were from Eataly this time).  The biggest difference visually is the shiny skin, since, the last time I had served the fillets with that side down.

• The wine was an Italian white, le Salse Verdicchio di Matelica 2013
• the music was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 5, sounding a little like pastoral Tchaikovsky, to my ears
  
• the post-dinner presentation was Werner Schroeter’s epic ‘Palermo oder Wolfsburg‘

Years ago Mark Bittman gathered together a list of 101 meals that could be prepared in 10 minutes or less, later edited up to 111. Two of his suggestions in particular have made regular appearances on our table since then, because not only can they be assembled in that period of time, but they’re both delicious, and both depend on ingredients I can easily keep on hand without worrying much about a spoil date.

Last night we went to the opera, and we  knew we would be back home too late to do any regular meal preparation.  It was also a cold night, so the answer was obvious.  It wouldn’t be the unheated tuna with cannellini beans and chopped red onion, but the chick pea soup, with pimentón, chorizo, garlic, and sherry.  The basic formula,which appeared in the New York Times eight years ago, was pretty minimal:

40 Put a large can of chickpeas and their liquid in a medium saucepan. Add some sherry, along with olive oil, plenty of minced garlic, smoked pimentón and chopped Spanish chorizo. Heat through.  

To that simple recipe I added, this time at least, a little of the tomato juices I had left over after using a can of very good Italian plum tomatoes in another meal, and I finished the hearty mix  with some chopped fresh parsley from Manhattan Fruit Exchange;  the excellent chorizo came from an amazing Amish family farm in rural Pennsylvania, Millport Dairy, which sells its produce in New York greenmarkets, including the one I visit regularly, in Union Square

• The wine was a Spanish red, Terra Única Tempranillo-Monastrell Valencia 2006
• the music was Dvořák’s Piano Trio No. 4 in E Minor, Op. 90, B. 166, the ‘Dumky’ Trio

Like most of the 10-Minute meal suggestions, this one almost begs for creative additions;  We’ve enjoyed it with leftover wilted kale, collards, or other greens, but I can imagine any number of other cooked vegetables working as enhancements, giving them a chance to leave the refrigerator and shine a second time.

Some time last evening, after getting other busyness and tasks out of the way, I turned to that of preparing a dinner using the four whole Whiting I had brought back from the Union Square Greenmarket that afternoon.  I soon realized that I had been wrong in thinking that I already had on hand a number of good recipes for this fish, so I started ferreting around on line.  Considering the time I now had left to put something together, and the ingredients I actually had on hand (which meant, like the Greenmarket itself these days, a very limited selection of fresh vegetables that couldn’t be described as ‘roots’), I was coming up with nothing.   None looked both workable and interesting, except for one that I had transcribed a few years ago, none looked both workable and interesting.  That recipe still sat, a single sheet of paper, entirely alone, in my “Whiting’ folder.  On it were the notations, “good…but burnt (use more liquids and/or cook the vegetables less)”.

I did a search on this blog to learn more, but found nothing.  I began to doubt that I had actually used the recipe, but when I began to compose this post, searching under key words, to find the source, I found this, my own tweet, with an image of a meal from last April; it was almost the same as the one we had last night.  Last spring it had gone no further than a tweet, so I may have been in a hurry.  It might also have been because of some charring, but there doesn’t seem to be any visible in the picture, and I think that plate actually looks better, or at least more aesthetic, than last night’s.

It was good.  I wouldn’t say that it was a great preparation, this time at least, but I was unable to include fennel yesterday, and that would have made a significant difference.  I was also rushing.  I’m thinking I really should have a fennel bulb around the next time I do this recipe, and that I will try to include the optional clams (my fish mongers always ask, “what else?”, after they’ve put my purchase in a bag, and I can almost never follow through with another order).

I did use more liquids this time, introducing both more vegetable broth and white wine throughout the baking process.

Today I located another baked whole whiting recipe, so these delicious fish are likely to be back on our table, either with or without heads (theirs).

• I won’t transcribe the formula here, since I can include this link to the on-line recipe, but these are the sources of the fresh ingredients I used:  Four whole whiting (fished from the deeper waters of the Continental Shelf south of the eastern end of Long Island) from American Fish Company, one yellow onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, parsley and thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, German Butterball potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, one Maine Backyard Farms mid-size tomato from Eataly; I used more chopped parsley, in lieu of the fennel fronds specified, to finish the dish on the plates
• the wine was a South African white, Bayten Sauvignan Blanc 2013
• the music was Dvořák ‘s wonderful Fourth Symphony

 

with fennel the last time, but no heads

 

Note to self:  This was surprisingly good, especially for a meal that was heavily improvised.

Except for the fresh mint, which I picked up when I stopped by the Eataly Wine Shop to pick up a bottle of Varnelli this afternoon, this dinner was assembled entirely from ingredients I already had in the kitchen.  The idea was to not go out for anything, but to use what I already had on hand (I defrosted the crab cakes the night before), largely items I preferred not to hang onto any longer.  There was another self-imposed stipulation:  Because of our decision to watch the last two hours of ‘Die Meistersinger’ beforehand, the meal be put on the table as quickly as reasonably possible.  I managed to be successful in incorporating my existing stock, and  but I think I went a little overtime in preparing it.

• crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (ingredients: crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, parsley), heated in a heavy iron pan, four minutes to each side, then topped with a little salsa verde, assembled with parsley and mint from Eataly, rinsed and filleted salted anchovies, rinsed salted capers, chopped garlic from Samascott Orchards, dijon mustard, olive oil, and good red wine vinegar
• a small amount of radicchio from from S.&S.O. Produce Farms and chopped parsley from Eataly, dressed with good olive oil and the same red wine vinegar, salt, and pepper
• a compote composed of a fennel bulb I had brought home from Eataly a little while back but which had nevertheless totally maintained its freshness, with good canned plum tomatoes from Eataly, Kalamata olives, unpitted, from Buon Italia, thyme from Manhattan Fruit Exchange, Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, more capers, and parsley from Eataly, the dish finished with chopped fennel fronds and more chopped parsley
• the wine was a Portuguese white, Quinta do Alqueve Fernão Peres 2010
• the music was Mahler’s Fourth, with Haitink conducting the Berlin Philharmonic