We eat outside most evenings, in the company of plants, mosquitoes and fireflies. We spray feet and arms against the skeeters - we don't like it but it's better than being cooped up indoors. The fireflies begin to blink in a delicate and understandable-only-to-fireflies choreography between dusk and dark night. We find them enchanting.
This particular supper featured delicate monkfish liver, irreproachably fresh, from the Union Square greenmarket (I asked for ice to carry it home on the subway). Dusted with salt, wrapped in a thin linen napkin and steamed gently, it was then chilled and sliced. The flavor is very delicate and salty-sweet, like a breeze off the sea, and the texture is very rich. With it was a warm potato tossed with the garden's chopped up garlic scapes and lots of lemon zest and lemon juice.
Also from the market, gorgeous heads of romaine, topped with fresh goat's cheese and chive blossoms, olive oil and white balsamic vinegar. And salt, of course - such an under appreciated and over maligned food hero.
There was also a small oven-roasted monkfish tail, with brown butter, capers, and the last of the chive blossoms.
It's one of the best meals I have made, conjured from, and thanks entirely to, impeccably good produce.
________________
Your meal sounds and looks delicious!
ReplyDeleteI have seen fireflies only in New Zealand. I'll have to research why we don't have them in the Pacific Northwest and if climate change is likely to change that.
We have lots of fireflies at our cabin in Northern Minnesota. Did you know males blink in the air, and females blink while at rest?
ReplyDeleteWe have wetlands behind the cabin (a boggy swamp but we prefer wetlands lol) where one night we watched literally thousands of them dance the dance of love.