dinner, April 25, 2010

For some time I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to sample a very attractively-presented cut of steak I’d first heard of and seen at The Meat Hook in Williamsburg, and spotted several times after that at Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats in Chelsea Market.  On April 25 I decided it was time.  I was in the Dickson’s shop without a shopping list and saw two handsome, arched and skewered steaks pressed near the window of their display cooler.  I pumped the very helpful guy behind the counter for information, including cooking tips, and then picked out the larger of the two pieces (it weighed in at about 12 ounces, including a beautiful layer of fat on one side).

Barry and I weren’t disappointed with the results.  It was one of the finest steaks I’ve ever eaten.

  • culotte steak (a small, boneless steak cut from the sirloin, known as “coulotte” in France, “picanha” in Brazil), from Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats, seasoned and seared (I used my handy and much-treasured small red oval enameled iron pan throughout) for about two minutes on the fat side and for about 45 second on the other, then placed inside a 375 degree oven for about seven or eight minutes (I don’t remember now whether I afterward added oil, lemon and/or herbs, as I sometimes do when a steak has been taken out of the pan);  accompanied by La Ratte potatoes purchased at the Union Square Greenmarket from Berried Treasures Farm (the picture shows they go pretty fast) which have been halved, tossed with oil and salt & pepper, roasted cut-side down on a ceramic oven tray, then mixed with sauteed ramps, also from Berried Treasures
  • wine:  Rhone, Domaine Catherine le Goeuil Cotes du Rhone Villages Cairanne Cuvee Lea Felsch 2007, a gift of a friend

Atlantic Sea Bass 4/24/10

fresh wild Pike fillet 4/19/10

I grew up in a place and a time when the fish on the table was always local (unless it was tuna or salmon, which were always canned), and bore names like Perch, Whitefish, Trout, Bass, Bluegill, Sturgeon, Freshwater Smelt or the supremely-elegant Northern Pike.  In Michigan and Wisconsin in the 1940’s and 50’s it seemed that if you ate fish it had almost certainly been caught by a friend, someone in your own family, or your little boy self (and that last always accompanied with great resistance, because of the yuck factor of impaling squishy worms and, possibly, removing the bloodied hook from a desperate, squirming fish).

I only remember the catch prepared as lightly-floured and fried fillets, although on special occasions, in the case of Whitefish or Sturgeon sent by relatives near Lake Michigan in Wisconsin, it was served smoked.

Everything changed when I first traveled to and lived in Europe in the early sixties, and especially after I moved to the American East Coast three years later.  The whole world of sea food opened up to me for the first time.  I never went back, literally and figuratively, although I did find myself weeping on the news of the virtual disappearance of most native Great Lakes species while I was becoming more and more estranged from the world in which I had grown up.

I hadn’t realized what had been lost to my palate until this month, when I brought home and prepared a fillet of wild pike (from West Virginia) on a visit to Lobster Place inside Chelsea Market.   Trying for an homage to my Wisconsin German heritage, I looked for a recipe my ancestors might have enjoyed in the old country.

The Pike was awesome!

  • fillet of West Virginia Pike, Badischer Grashecht mit Speck gebraten (Baden pike with Guanciale substituting for the traditional  bacon), a from “Culinaria Germany” which asks for the fillet to be seasoned and lightly-floured, sauteed at high heat in clarified butter on both sides, removed to a buttered pan and placed in a 350 degree oven for ten minutes covered by small pieces of Guanciale, followed for another ten minutes with the addition of onion, thyme and white wine, after that the “bacon” removed and the fish dotted w/butter, returned to the oven until the skin was crispy, and finally served with the cooking juices spooned over the fillet;  accompanied by boiled Norland Red potatoes from Muddy River Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, finished with butter and parsley
  • bosc pear from Migliorelli Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket and dried Turkish figs from Garden of Eden
  • wine:  Mosel, Pündericher Marienburg Riesling Falkenlay 2004, Clemens Busch from Mosel Wine Merchants

[image from ohioanglers]

dinner, April 17, 2010

  • orecchiette (using a package of Bartolini Emilio, from Umbria, purchased from Garden of Eden), boiled, drained, then added to a deep pan in which the rest of the ingredients had already been prepared:  a mixture of chopped uncured smoked duck bacon from D’Artagnan (also purchased from Garden of Eden), crumbled dry hot pepper, garlic, and some oil, chopped broccoli rabe from Migliorelli Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket, all sauteed together and, when mixed and stirred with the pasta and an addition of a considerable amount of pasta cooking water, blended with a generous amount of shredded Locatelli Romano D.O.C. cheese
  • wine:  Italian Abruzzo, Montepulciano, a Cantina Zaccagnini Montepulciano d’Abruzzo 2006, purchased from Philippe Wine

dinner, April 14, 2010

dinner, April 13, 2010

Little more than a week after I had come upon Strauss Brothers veal chops, which we had enjoyed in this meal, I discovered that the same excellent producers also supplied tasty young lamb.   I included four of their small rib chops in this dinner.

  • lamb chops, pan-grilled and finished with oil, thyme and a sprinkle of lemon, from Strauss Brothers, purchased at Garden of Eden;  accompanied by some kale from Bodhitree Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket, sauteed in a bit of oil which had first warmed two lightly-bruised whole garlic cloves;  and French Fingerlings from Norwich Meadows Farms, oven-roasted with rosemary leaves
  • shelled almonds
  • wine:  a medium French red, from Roussillon,  Le Vignes de Bila-Haut, Côtes du Roussillon Villages 2008, M. Chapoutier, from K & D wines

dinner, April 3, 2010

I generally avoid preparing or eating veal (for the expense;  the problematic ethics attached to most of its sources; and the fact that, unless sympathetically prepared, it can end up tasting pretty bland).  It’s probably been years since I’ve had it in my kitchen, but with the memory of one particular recipe I’d not been able to dispose of, I was tempted to give it a try when I came across an attractive package at Garden of Eden.

It enclosed two small veal loin chops described as “natural, untethered, no growth hormones or artificial ingredients”, and identified as the product of a family firm in southern Wisconsin, Strauss Brothers.  The price per pound was modest, especially considering the almost fabled luxury of the product.  Moreover, the chops themselves were smallish, and that makes sense to us.

Free-range veal?  I spent a lot of time on the dairy farms of our Wisconsin relatives when I was young, where I wondered where and why each cute newborn spotted calf disappeared before we could become very attached to them, so naturally I was intrigued, even if I knew the Strauss Brothers’ critters hadn’t really spent much time on those advertised ranges.

I didn’t go with the recipe I had in mind when I bought the chops, but rather one which absolutely could not be more simple and easy, and which would surely convince any skeptic of the potential robustness of veal.

  • Taralli Pugliesi (Finocchio) from Puglia Sapori purchased at Garden of Eden
  • drink:  Ricard and water
  • Veal Loin Chops with Balsamico, or two seasoned chops browned 3-4 minutes each side (once the pan and a bit of oil coating it has gotten very hot), over medium-high heat, the chops removed and allowed to rest five minutes, then each drizzled with a teaspoon of good Balsamic vinegar; accompanied by French Fingerlings (Solanum tuberosum) oven-roasted with rosemary; and small varicolored oven-roasted carrots, both vegetables from Norwich Meadows Farms in Norwich, New York, purchased at the Union Square Greenmarket
  • cheese and pears:  two Basques, Garroxta and Istarra, served with rosemary bread from Bobolink Dairy at the Union Square Greenmarket; Bosc Pears from Migliorelli Farm, also in the Greenmarket
  • wine:  Austrian, Blauer Zweigelt 2007 Weingut Anita und Hand Nitthaus, Burgenland, from Appellation Wines

dinner, April 12, 2010

This meal anticipated summer by a bit, as nothing required cooking at home, and everything was served at room temperature.  We would have continued with a third course of two great, and possibly Germanic-y, artisanal cows-milk cheeses I’d picked up at the Bobolink Dairy stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, if we hadn’t already been pretty satisfied with the two we had already enjoyed.

  • thin slices of some awesome, slightly-smokey cooked beef tongue purchased from Dickson’s Farm Stand Meats in Chelsea Market, served with “Cold Horseradish sauce à la Dresden” [image of the horseradish at the top], a simple recipe culled from the copy of Craig Claiborne’s “New York Times Cookbook” [the revised edition here] which I’d snatched up almost half a century back, and slices of rye bread from Balthazar Bakery, purchased at Garden of Eden
  • raw red cabbage salad, using Kurt Gutenbrunner‘s luscious recipe, the small tight super-dark cabbage, garnished with thin slices of golden delicious apples (both cabbage and apples purchased at Garden of Eden), also served with slices of the round rye loaf, here with sweet butter on the side
  • wine:  a Gruner Veltliner from Lower Austria, Kremser Weinzierl Gruner Veltliner 2008 (very inexpensive, and a generous full liter) from Phillipe Wine

dinner, March 28, 2010

Bosc_pears_Migliorelli_Farms

dinner, March 27, 2010

cavalo_nero_young_Norwich_Farms

This meal wouldn’t have begun as it did if I hadn’t spotted those fava beans.

While shopping at Buon Italia this afternoon I happened to see two or three still-unopened bright green pods on plates lying on the wooden dining table near the back of the store.  This was the corner where the owner’s own family and workers take their mid-day meal.   Along with half a loaf of one of those familiar Italian Easter breads with the embedded eggs, the fava were among the remains of what appeared to have been a beautiful seasonal lunch just ended.   I assumed the beans had come from the large greengrocer across the hall, and immediately headed over there to find out.

Every year at the greenmarket I discover I’ve somehow missed out on the earliest tender beans (which require no cooking) and I have to resign myself to the long preparation process needed to enjoy the pleasures of this ancient legume.  This spring it may look like I’ve finally gotten ahead of the game, but I think the folks who bring our local bounty to Union Square will still be keeping the youngest, tenderest stock all for themselves.