Good morning. There are whales breaching in 20 feet of water off the cabanas near Breezy Point in Queens, feeding on acres of peanut bunker amid swarms of striped bass. Out by the pilot boat at the mouth of the Ambrose Channel, bluefin tuna crash bait on the water’s surface. Dolphins cruise between them, over the sand sharks known as dogfish, while tautog eat crabs on the ocean floor. Everywhere are birds — terns, gulls, gannets — and, amid them, fishermen in little boats observing the show, seeing it against a backdrop of urban majesty.
That will be Sunday for me, and I hope those running the New York City Marathon will see the spectacle beneath them as they cover the length of the Verrazzano Bridge between Staten Island and Brooklyn at the start of the race. I hope they’ll look, anyway. There’s wonder everywhere, if only you do.
Either way, a Saturday night dinner of pasta with kale pesto and butternut squash (above) will provide fuel and comfort. Using kale instead of basil for the pesto gives the sauce a pleasing structure, a little bit of weight that’s a perfect foil for the pillowy squash and the slick pasta. I add a pinch of red pepper flakes for zip and serve the dish with garlic bread.
Featured Recipe
Pasta With Kale Pesto and Butternut Squash
What else to cook this weekend? I’m not running anywhere, so I’d like some lemon ricotta pancakes for breakfast and a General Tso’s tofu sub for lunch. Could I fit some Japanese fried chicken in there, too, at some point? And a comforting soondubu jjigae? Yes, I could.
And then, for Sunday night, a family feast in advance of the coming Thanksgiving holiday, a kind of rehearsal. To wit: a couple of turkey thighs browned crisp in a cast-iron pan and then cooked through in a medium oven under a spray of kosher salt, to serve with spicy caramelized squash with lemon and hazelnuts and crisp gnocchi with brussels sprouts and brown butter.
That’s a lot, but I’ll still make gravy to go with it all, while the thighs rest on a cutting board, no recipe required. There’ll be a few tablespoons of fat left in the pan, along with some of the crunchy bits the culinarians call “fond.” I’ll return the pan to the stove over low heat, add a few tablespoons of flour to the mess and whisk it around to combine. After a few minutes I’ll start drizzling some milk into the mix, letting it thicken, then adding some more until I’ve got a gravy-like consistency. Is there a splash of Madeira left in that bottle on the sideboard? Maybe I’ll add that as well, before grinding black pepper over the top and tasting the result. Probably it needs salt.
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Now, it’s nothing to do with Dungeness crab or ruby red grapefruit, but I’ve been charmed by the latest season of “The Lincoln Lawyer” on Netflix, I think because Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, as Mickey Haller, seems to be having a very good time.
Here’s Jonathan Coleman writing about collaborating with Jerry West on West’s autobiography, “West by West: My Charmed, Tormented Life,” in The Hedgehog Review.
You should read Chris Ware in The Yale Review, on Richard Scarry and the art of children’s literature.
Finally, here’s a layup for marathoners and those who support them: Bruce Springsteen, “Born to Run,” live in 1980. I’ll see you on Sunday.
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