smoked fish pâté; baked cod on potato; purple kale; gelato

There were two guests, and two fishes, actually, more than two (fishes).

We had friends to dinner and it was decided that seafood should dominate the menu, partly because we figured most New Yorkers rarely cook fish at home, and I definitely do. The first course featured a salad (the fisherman himself calls it a pâté), of several different species, and the main could hardly have been a more classic Northeastern entrée.

It was delicious, but maybe not the best choice for serving guests, since I was in the kitchen quite a bit while they were here, even though, of the 4 courses I served, essentially all one could be described as mostly or entirely ‘prepared’.

We drank a sparking  wine while nibbling on fresh radishes and some crunchy things

The first sit-down course was assembled, not cooked.

  • a composed smoked fish salad using local fish caught by Phil Karlin, whose wife, Dolores Karlin, made it, consisting of more than one white fish species, mayonnaise, red onion, and celery, from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company(the salad was perfectly seasoned), served on slices of a demi baguette from Bread Alone toasted over an open gas flame on our Camp-A-Toaster’
  • wild cress from Lani’s Farm, drizzled with a small amount of a very good olive oil, Badia a Coltibuono, Monti del Chianti, from Chelsea Whole Foods Market
  • the wine was a New Zealand (Marlborough) white, Churton Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc 2017, the gift of our 2 guests

Using an expression I remember was very common (both senses) while I was growing up, I suppose the main course was the pièce de résistance.

  • two one-pound fillets [I would aim for smaller amounts of both fish and potatoes the next time I’m cooking for 4, because these amounts pretty much crowded the pan] of fresh Atlantic cod, also from P.E. & D. D. Seafood, prepared mostly following an old recipe from Mark Bittman that I had come across years ago: the cod washed and rinsed, placed in a platter [I had to use an oven pan this time, because of the size of the cod] on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the piece was as completely covered as possible, set aside while a bed of potatoes was prepared for them (meaning that the cod would normally be encased in salt for about 30 minutes), by slicing nearly 2 pounds of really wonderful ‘la ratte’ potatoes from two Greenmarket sources, Phillips Farms and Mountain Sweet Berry Farm to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch, tossing the potatoes in a large bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a large pinch of light orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper [acquired the summer before last from Norwich Meadows Farm], arranging the potatoes in a large [Bittman wrote “an 8-by-11-inch or similar size baking pan”] rectangular  enameled cast iron oven pan, placing them in a 400º oven for 25 minutes or so, or until they were tender when pierced with a knife; while the potatoes were cooking, roughy half way through those 25 minutes, the cod was removed from the salt and the platter or pan on which it had been resting, and thoroughly immersed in or soaked in many changes of cold running water, to bring down the saltiness (the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which can be easily felt while it’s being handled it at this point), drained, dried, and cut to produce 4 pieces of equal weight (I’ve gotten really good at the geometry of irregular shapes), all of them placed on top of the potatoes once they had cooked, each piece of cod drizzled with a little olive oil, some freshly-ground black pepper scattered on top, the pan returned to the oven for about 15 minutes (the exact time will always depends on the thickness of the cod), the fillets then removed with a wooden spatula (or, even better, 2 wooden spatulas), bringing along with as much of the potatoes as possible with each piece, everything arranged, as intact as possible, onto 4 plates, returning to the pan for the remainder of the potatoes, each serving garnished with micro red mustard from two Guys from Woodbridge

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  • a generous amount of purple kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted with olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pot in which at least 4 halved ‘music garlic’ cloves from Windfall Farms had been allowed to sweat in more than a tablespoon of olive oil until pungent, seasoned with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of fresh olive oil
  • the wine was a great Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2016, from Astor Wines

There was a cool, citrus dessert, which seemed like a perfect way to end this meal, and the only ‘cooking’ involved the chopping of the topping.

  • small glass bowls of Ciao Bella Sicilian Blood Orange gelato from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with chopped candied ginger slices from Whole Foods Market

roasted skate, tomato, mustard, tiny celery; potato, chervil

I should have halved the potatoes, to help them appear as sweet as they tasted.

 

Paul pointed me toward the whole skate wing lying in the iced tub, but I had already (almost) decided that the skate was what I would be taking home. One cooked with its cartilage, and, I think, at least some of the bone, is definitely more tasty than it is when it’s been filleted, and that means it’s very very good.

There was also something entirely new to our kitchen, a harbinger of spring, which is officially only a few days away, some baby celery, the first apium graveolens of the season. The crunch is great, and the leaves are less bitter than they are when full grown.

  • six Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, tossed gently inside a shallow bowl with less than a tablespoon of olive oil and less than one crushed peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, arranged, their cut sides down, inside a medium size glazed ceramic oven pan and roasted at 400º for about 10 minutes, after which one 20-ounce skate wing from Pura Vida Seafood, untrimmed, with cartilage and the bone where it had attached to the body wholly intact (although, before cooking it I had cut it into 2 halves, removed most of the bone and used a scissors to trim the lacy edges of the wing along the lines demonstrated in this short video) seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, transferred to the pan after moving the tomatoes to the edges, and roasted for another 15 minutes or so, when a mixture of a tablespoon of olive oil, half a tablespoon of lemon juice, half a teaspoon of good Dijon mustard, and more than a half tablespoon of rinsed salted Sicilian capers that had been whisked together just before was poured over the fish and tomatoes, the pan returned to the oven for 2 or 3 minutes, the casserole removed, its contents arranged on 2 plates, the tomatoes next to or on the skate, both garnished with the finely chopped stem and tender leaves of one small stalk of spring celery from Windfall Farms, small lemon quarters placed to the side of the plates
  • one pound of very sweet small pinto potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained [and although not halved although they should have been], dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a chopped very small ‘yellow shallot’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, a little Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, and seasoned with salt and pepper, garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the wine was a French (Bordeaux) white, Château Haut-Dambert Entre Seux-Mers (60% Sauvignon Blanc, 25% Sauvignon Gris, 15% Muscadelle), from Foragers Wines
  • the music was the album, ‘The Twenty-Fifth Hour: The Chamber Music of Thomas Adès’, performed by the Calder Quartet and Thomas Adès, piano

oregano/chili/habanada/lemon-roasted squid; spinach

Oh so good.

On my way home from the Greenmarket with these Cephalopoda on Wednesday I thought about how many people think of squid only as an appetizer, usually batter-coated and deep-fried, which can be awesome, but that we almost always enjoy them at home as the special main event I think their goodness deserves.

  • one pound of rinsed and carefully dried baby squid from American Seafood Company, quickly arranged inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan that had been heated on top of the stove until hot and its the cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and once the oil itself was quite hot, immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, a good section of a peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and a section of light-colored home-dried habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and the squid roasted for just less than 5 minutes, by which time their little bodies had ballooned, then removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices, once they’d been transferred to a footed glass sauce boat
  • seven or eight ounces of loose spinach from Tamarack Hollow Farm washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large, heavy, antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 3 quartered cloves of ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had first been allowed to sweat, the spinach seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little dried peperoncino, finished on the plates with a little more olive oil
  • slices of ‘table bread’ from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co

There was a cheese course, at least partly as a reward for my success in getting dinner started earlier than usual.

  • two cheeses, a semi-firm Riverine Ranch water buffalo ‘farm stand cheese’, and a “mammuth’ goat milk cheese (camembert style) from Ardith Mae, with a little roughly pounded black pepper and some Maldon salt on the plate
  • more slices of Lost Bread’s ‘table bread’

 

[the image of the bical grapes is from this 2018 Eric Azimov New York Times article; the image from the Los Angeles Philharmonic fully staged world premiere of Andriessen’s ‘Theatre of the World’ from the blog, Louis Andriessen]

the 10th anniversary of the Hoggard / Wagner Food blog

I began writing this blog 10 years ago today. I’ve reproduced the first modest entry below.

It appears to have been before the era of photography.

So I’m just going to add some color here, before I do anything else.

dinner, March 16, 2009

  • ham steak (from Flying Pigs Farm, at the Union Square Greenmarket) with walnut butter, breadcrumbs, and parsley (adapted from Mimi Sheraton’s The German Cookbook), served with oven fries seasoned with ground coriander (the simple recipe is from Bon Appetit) using Red Adirondack potatoes, also from Union Square Greenmarket
  • cheese course:  two Spanish cheeses, Valdeón (blue) from León, and Garrotxa from Catalonia, plus a bit of  Bucheron (French, Loire), served with “Organic Seeduction” (6 seeds or grains) bread from Whole Foods
  • wine: Messmer Spätburgunder 2007 (German Pinot Noir from the Pfalz), purchased at Uva in Williamsburg

 

[the image, of ‘Times Square 106 Primary Red Gel Filter Sheet 10″ x 10″, is from Amazon]

steak, chive; garlic/oregano-roasted tomato; celeriac frites

Steak and French fries, and catsup.

Actually, a grass-fed local steak, celery root frites, and roasted tomatoes.

The background story is that I had gone to our local While Foods at some time after 8 in the evening yesterday intending to pick a wild Northwest Coast wild salmon fillet, as I do occasionally (and in season, they aren’t even previously frozen).  For the first time ever, I think, they had none. No problem, I could go back home and cook up an interesting pasta. But then I looked at the butcher display on my way out. This was something I hadn’t done in a very long time, since I almost always buy both meat and seafood from our local farmers and fishers in the Union Square Greenmarket, and occasionally from Ottomanelli & Sons on Bleecker.

On one of the trays inside the display case there was a single thick, beautifully-cut strip steak remaining, with a citation of its local origin on the display case window above it, including a picture of the family owners. It may not be a tiny local family farm, but it seemed to have some decent credentials, and then I saw that it was also on sale. I texted Barry to see if he felt like having beef that night, but I had really already decided our names were on it.

I’m now apologizing to my usual farmer-venders, to the Greenmarket, and to the Ottomanelli brothers for my momentary truancy. And I cannot tell a lie: The steak was pretty awesome.

  • one 13-ounce grass-fed organic New Jersey (Simply Grazin’) top loin boneless strip steak, rinsed, dried on both sides with paper towels and sprinkled with sea salt, allowed to rest on the kitchen counter on a paper plate, covered loosely with wax paper, for almost an hour, then dried once again and placed inside an enameled cast iron oval pan that had already been heated above a medium-hot flame, cooked for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until the meat was just under medium-rare, halved crosswise and removed to 2 plates sitting on the top of the warm ancient oven, a bit of organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon squeezed on top, a good amount of scissored fresh chive from Whole Foods scattered on top, and some good Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil drizzled on the herb, allowed to sit a few minutes before serving garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • eight Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slow-roasted inside a small antique rolled-edge tin oven pan with a heaping teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, half a tablespoon or more of Trader Joe’s Reserve olive oil, and 2 or 3 halved cloves of ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms
  • one 15-ounce celery root (or celeriac) from Norwich Meadows Farm, scrubbed, peeled, and cut into the size and shape of potato frites, each about 1/4″ in cross section, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, a half teaspoon of Safinter Pimenton de la Vera smoked picante paprika, sea salt, and a little freshly-ground black pepper, spread onto a large seasoned  Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, and roasted at 425º until brown and cooked through, or for about 30 to 35 minutes, removed to the plates, and sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Qoodbridge [Note: they were pretty spicy, so some tastes may want to use less paprika, or a version that’s less hot]
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) red, Bodegas Hermanos de Pecina, Rioja Cosecha Tinto, 2017, from Flatiron Wines

We’ve been huge fans of his for years, but we met Thomas Adès for the first time at the Springbreak Art Show on Sunday (I’m afraid we might have come on like groupies), so we thought it would be appropriate to revisit one of his most amazing orchestral pieces while we enjoyed our next home-cooked dinner, on Tuesday.

 

[image of Thomas Adès from Classic FM]

mackerel toast; alliums/lemon/caper-baked pollock; greens

I like the landscaping.

There were two courses. While the the image above is of the second one, I wanted to lead with it rather than with the mackerel toasts, because almost that same appetizer had shown up on this blog only recently.

In the interim I had located some fresh chives, which improves the flavor of the mix, and which I didn’t have when I first whipped up the spread on Saturday. On the other hand, by Monday, when I was ready to serve the rest of it, I had lost my supplies of small greens, so I used a few chive stems as a rudimentary bed.

  • the remainder of a smoked mackerel spread that had been prepared and served two days before (one 8-ounce smoked whole mackerel from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, skinned, its flesh removed from the backbone and the larger ribs discarded as it was broken up and placed inside a bowl, where it was joined by about a third of a cup of Riverine Ranch water buffalo milk labneh, a tablespoon or more of chopped Japanese scallions, a teaspoon of zest and a tablespoon of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon, a little freshly ground black pepper, and a complex powdered Nigerian cayenne, now with the addition of a generous amount of sliced fresh chives from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, swiped onto toasted slices of a sourdough bâtard from She Wolf Bakery, and placed on a few lengths of the same chives, with lemon quarters served on the side

The fish in the main course was not smoked, and in fact it was so fresh that it had almost certainly still been swimming off Long Island when I was originally mixing the mackerel spread 2 days before.

But first a look at my shiny re-tinned au gratin pan, the midwife of the baked pollock entrée.

  • two pollock fillets (a total of 20 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, seasoned on both sides with salt and pepper, placed skin side down inside a buttered oval newly-retinned copper au gratin pan, dabbed with a mixture of softened unsalted Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ combined with zest from most of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, a little chopped ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms, slices of a Norwich Meadows Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and part of a piece of a crushed  orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, baked for about 16 or 17 minutes at 350º, removed to 2 plates and kept warm on top of the flat top of the 1936 Magic Chef oven, the little bit of cooking juices that had accumulated poured over the fillets, and a teaspoon or so of Sicilian salted capers, which had just been rinsed, drained, and dried, and heated briefly inside a small antique enameled cast iron porringer in a bit of olive oil, scattered on top of the fillets while the capers were still warm, along with the oil in which they had been heated, the pollock finished with a garnish of micro red mustard from Two guys from Woodbridge

  • a handful of beautiful and absolutely delicious ‘frizzy mustard’ greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, barely heated in a little olive oil in which 2 halved cloves of garlic had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil

 

smoked mackerel toast; buffalo steak; fava; roasted potato

Oh my.

Yes, once again we have access to some wonderful smoked local fish. After a hiatus which had saddened many of their customers, the Karlin family’s P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, is again selling this very special fresh delicacy that originates in the hauls from its boats out of Long Island’s North Fork, .

I was worried that I might not get around to doing something with the gorgeous whole copper-colored mackerel I had picked up almost 2 weeks ago, but smoked fish has serious staying power (in fact, food preservation was its original raison d’etre).

On Saturday I skinned and deboned the fish and it with some ingredients I already lying around, and I managed to come up with some delicious toasts for assembling a small course to anticipate a good steak. There was enough for two nights, so we will probably be enjoying the remainder tonight, 2 days later, after I finish writing this.

Another thing special about the whole meal was the fact that both courses included unconventional treats from a local producer on shore, Riverine Ranch, which raises water buffalo in New Jersey, far from waters fished by the Karlin family.

  • one 8-ounce smoked whole mackerel from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, skinned, its flesh removed from the backbone and the larger ribs discarded as it was broken up and placed inside a bowl, where it was joined by about a third of a cup of Riverine Ranch water buffalo milk labneh, a tablespoon or more of chopped Japanese scallions, a teaspoon of zest and a tablespoon of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon, a little freshly ground black pepper, and a complex powdered Nigerian cayenne, swiped onto toasted slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche, with lemon quarters served on the side
  • delicious peppery arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm dressed with Trader Joe’s very good  Italian Reserve unfiltered olive oil, sea salt, pepper, and a drizzle of lemon juice
  • the wine was a French (Gascogne) white, Mont Gravet – Côtes de Gascogne Blanc 2017, from Foragers Market Wine

The main course was a very different scheme from the first.

  • one top sirloin buffalo steak (13 ounces) from Riverine Ranch, rinsed and patted dry, seasoned generously with salt and pepper, allowed to reach room temperature, seared over a medium flame, cooked 2 or 3 minutes on each side, to medium rare, the time always dependent on thickness [being careful not to overcook, or the steak would be tough, and noting that the color of this lean meat is a lot redder than beef, meaning a medium-rare buffalo steak would be the same shade of an almost rare beef steak], removed from the pan, cut in half crosswise, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a bit of lemon juice, sprinkled with chopped fresh thyme from Chelsea Whole Foods, drizzled with a little olive oil, covered loosely and allowed to rest for a couple minutes before serving

  • more than a pound of red thumb potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, a bit of crushed home-dried habanada pepper, and a pinch of crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 375º for 20 minutes or so, tossed around on the pan, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

  • fava greens, the last from the boxes at the Union Square Greenmarket stand of Alewife Farm (the restaurants got there before me), washed, drained, and gradually stirred into a medium size heavy, antique copper pot in less than a tablespoon of olive oil until they had only begun to wilt, seasoned salt and freshly-pepper, the vegetable arranged on the plates and drizzled with some more olive oil
  • the wine with this course was a Portuguese (Dão) red, Casa de Mouraz Tinto, Dão 2014, from Astor Wines  

lemon/micro mustard on lemon sole; scallion/lovage potato

Its appearance is almost monochromatic in this photograph, but if I can use that adjective family to describe taste, our enjoyment of this entrée was polychromatic.

Also, while no sugar was added to either the fish or the vegetable, both were, oddly, and deliciously, incredibly sweet.

  • one really fresh 14.5-ounce lemon sole fillet from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed then dried thoroughly, salted on both sides (with a little freshly-ground black pepper as well), brushed with a little good Italian white wine vinegar (Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia), coated with a thin layer of a local whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills in the Union Square Greenmarket, sautéed for a couple of minutes over a medium-high flame inside a very heavy vintage oval tin-lined copper pan in 2 or 3 tablespoons of olive oil, the fillet turned over and cooked for another minute or so (the exact time, or even an approximate time will always depend on the thickness of the fish and the heat of the pan), the sole removed and arranged on 2 warm plates, the pan wiped with a paper towel, then 2 tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and a handful of micro red mustard from Windfall Farms added, warmed for a minute or so, either over a low flame or, as the pan will still be hot, possibly none at all, the sauce poured onto the sole, and a very different micro red mustard, this one from Two Guys from Woodbridge, arranged on each plate as a garnish to one side

spicy goat ribs, mustard sauce; rutabaga frites and greens

‘Goat wings’, I’m calling them.

They had started out great.

But then they spent too much time in the oven. My estimate of the cooking time for slow-braised goat ribs was far more generous than it should have been (I was looking at a recipe for lamb, but I had goat (goats are pretty small, even when compared to lamb) and and I was too busy elsewhere to check on how they were doing.

Adding to my discomfort, as someone who really hates finger food, was the fact that there was no way I was going to be able to eat these somewhat desiccated ribs with a knife and fork.

But still, they were delicious, and then even gilded.

I included a sauce, which began with my deglazing the oven pan, and which happened just after I snapped this image following the removal of the ribs, and the rack on which they had rested, and before adding some stock. It’s amazing how small an amount of concentrated drippings it takes to produce something really rich.

At least I think I got the vegetable accompaniment right: Ribs and rutabaga seem made for each other, and this root even came with its own greens!

  • a little over a pound of goat ribs (or ‘riblets’), already-separated from each other, from Lynnhaven Dairy Goat Farm, seasoned all over with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper then rubbed all over with a mix of dried herbs and spices (a pinch of both habanada and smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper; roughly a quarter teaspoon each of smoked Spanish pikante paprika; freshly ground cumin, coriander seed, and fennel seed; and a smidgen of turbanado sugar), set on a rack inside a large enameled cast iron oven pan and bake in a 300º oven for 1 hour, the heat then increased to 375º and, theoretically, the ribs cooked until browned outside, tender within, and an instant-read thermometer registered 175º, or, according to the recipe I had grabbed just before beginning dinner, about 1 hour longer [I’ll probably look for another recipe next time, since I this one and I may now have assembled some bad karma], the goat set aside while preparing a sauce: once the fat had been poured out of the pan it was placed on a burner above a medium flame and a quarter of a cup of low-sodium chicken stock added and stirred, scraping up the browned bits [shown in the picture above], the liquid poured into a small saucepan and a little more stock added, the liquid cooked over medium heat until reduced by half, a teaspoon of grainy Dijon mustard and some salt and pepper added, finished, off heat, by whisking in a teaspoon or so of cold butter, served on the plates with a garnish of micro red mustard from Windfall Farms, the sauce transferred to small bowls with small spoons to enable the diners to decide how to use it (basically, I thought this arrangement would at least reduce the stickiness involved in consuming the ‘wings’
  • a little less than a pound of rutabaga from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, dried, peeled, and cut as for French fries, tossed with little more than one tablespoon of olive oil, some sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, some now-dried rosemary leaves from Chelsea WHole Foods, and a bit of crushed dried pieces of  golden/bronze habanada pepper, then spread evenly, hopefully without crowding, onto a large, seasoned, unglazed ceramic Pampered Chef oven pan and roasted at 400º for about 30 or 35 minutes, garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • the rutabaga greens that had been attached to the root (there weren’t many, but, as they were from a form of turnip, they were terrific), washed, drained, chopped roughly, and wilted inside a small antique copper pot in olive oil along with a single ‘music’ or ‘strong neck’ garlic clove from Windfall Farms which had been lightly-browned in the oil first
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Bairrada) red, Beira ‘FP’ Baga, Filipa Pato 2017, from Astor Wines
  • the music was Bruckner’s eighth Symphony, Pierre Boulez conducting the Vienna Philharmonic

marinated, breaded grilled swordfish; tomato; komatsuna

There were many possible choices at the fishers’ stall on Monday, but the swordfish looked really fantastic.

  • two beautiful swordfish steak halves from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated for about 45 minutes, turning once, in a mixture of a few tablespoons of olive oil, more than a teaspoon of a fresh tarragon from Flatiron Eataly, a bit of peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, a small piece of a home-dried habanada pepper, plus the chopped white sections of 2 thin Japanese scallions from Norwich Meadows Farm, after which the swordfish was drained, both sides covered with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until not quite fully cooked to the center, removed from the pan and arranged on 2 plates, sprinkled with a little Maldon salt, some of the chopped green section of the scallions, drizzled with a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, a few drops of olive oil poured over the top, and garnished with, I think, micro red Russian kale from Windfall Farms
  • six Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Chelsea Whole Foods, slow-roasted inside a small antique tin rolled-edge oven pan with a little olive oil, a generous amount of the dried Sicilian oregano, and 4 slightly-smashed cloves of music garlic
  • one generous bunch of komatsuna, a Japanese mustard spinach, washed and drained several times, cut into 2-inch sections, wilted inside a large vintage copper pot in which 2 cloves of Windfall Farms’ ‘music garlic’ had first been softened in a couple tablespoons of olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with lemon juice and olive oil from Lani’s Farm
  • the wine was a Spanish (Rías Baixas), Albariño ‘Xión’, Bodegas y Viñedos Attis 2017, from Astor Wines
  • the music was André Modeste Grétry’s 1784 opera, ‘La Caravane Du Caire’,  Marc Minkowski conducting the Ricercar Academy and the Namur Chamber Choir