Stories

In the summer, people tend to fall in around here, sometimes when we least expect it. Spontaneous plans get made in the morning or a minute before because the weather’s nice and Alan’s almost always game for a barbecue (though he has been known to get cranky when the dishes pile up.)

He is constitutionally “allergic” to making salad and the appetizers and the sides (unless we’re talking grilled vegetables and the occasional amazing polenta) generally fall on my shoulders. But, since the side dishes and appetizers often define a meal, give it its flourish so to speak, it could be viewed as a tiny opportunity, to show off.

So here are a couple of my favorites, that involve a minimum of effort, the next time there are hot dogs on or burgers or Alaskan salmon on the grill and you just have to rustle something up to go along with them.

One of the best techniques for cooking firm white-fleshed fish is pan-searing. Cooked for exactly the right amount of time, searing locks in moisture and flavor. As the flesh turns opaque and starts to flake, it is complete. Tilefish is a wonderful fish for searing since it's extra-lean. But it doesn't fall apart like some other white fish, and stays exceptionally moist with a mild flavor. But what an unusual name for a fish? I guess it's their vivid blue-green iridescence and gold spots that make them look like painted tile.

For a complementary side that doesn't overpower the subtly flavored tilefish, I chose to prepare a combination of vegetables with the flavors of Provençe. Sweet onion, fennel, red pepper, and tomatoes along with briny capers are all combined to form a saucy accompaniment.

When we were growing up like any kid in New England we loved baseball. The Red Sox were our focus and Ted Williams was our idol. In the middle of winter our parents excused my sister Tanya and I from school that year for a whole month to take us to Phoenix, Arizona to watch the Red Sox Spring training.

In the mid 60’s, you guessed it Ted Williams was the hitting coach. That first day at practice my sister and I showed up with our well-oiled leather mitts, hers on her left hand, mine on my right. We inched our way to the sidelines, near enough to hear Mr. Williams as he laid out his plan to the players for the day’s practice. First, he instructed them to do the mandatory pushups, jumping jacks, and an ungodly number of laps around the baseball diamond as he made notes on his clipboard.

As each player hit the ground to begin with the sit ups, the soft spoken coach turned and started talking to my sister and me. He liked the looks of our mitts, because he stared at them for several long seconds- “Do you play baseball a lot?” he said.

“We play everyday”, said my sister. “Do you want to play baseball today with the club?” We replied at same time, “are you kidding? YES!!!”

If indeed the Mayan belief is correct and December 20th was guaranteed to be my final supper, I would choose my menu with great excitement and freedom.

Just the thought of the world coming to an end, generates a tantalizing excitement in my belly, the mere fact, that I could devour my most favorite delicacies without consequence, guilt or social shame!

Most of my favorite foods, or “Treats” as we call them at home, are all either endangered, illegal, incredibly expensive, or so fattening, that the pleasure of eating is ruined by the consequence.

Here is my menu –

Russian Beluga caviar, straight up – great big spoonful’s please!

Hot seared Fois Gras on a slice of toasted brioche.

Fresh orecchiette with soft poached quail eggs and lots of shaved white truffle.