I was going to write that these were the last of the fresh habanada peppers for the season, that when I saw that they had started to go pretty fast inside the refrigerator, I had decided to splurge at our breakfast on Sunday afternoon. And then today, on my very next trip back to the Union Square Greenmarket, I found a few more in the same stand where these had come from almost a full month before.
The tomatoes too may not have been the last of the summer’s treasures: Their farmers told me they had in fact been growing inside a covered space even during the warmer months, but there can’t be many more out there except for those raised hydroponically..
The eggs will be with us all winter, as will the bacon and the bread, but for the next few months I’ll have to work a little harder to keep these plates colorful.
It was a very good breakfast, not least for the fact that all 6 yolks survived for once.
There seemed to be a lot of bacon this time, although, because most slices were very thin, the total weight may have been about the same as usual. In any event the kitchen heard no complaints.
- there were eggs from pastured chickens and bacon from pastured pigs, both from Millport Dairy Farm; Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market; local (regional) Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, also from Whole Foods Market; half of a fresh yellow grenada seasoning pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm; chopped fresh thyme from Keith’s Farm on the eggs and whole oregano leaves from Stokes Farm on the tomatoes; Maldon salt; freshly-ground black pepper; pea shoots from Echo Creek Farm, in our local Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market; and both fresh and toasted slices of 3 different breads (a potato levain from Runner & Stone Bakery, a She Wolf Bakery miche, and a Pain d’Avignon seven grain loaf)
- the music was an oratorial by Pietro Torri, ‘La Vanità del mondo’, first performed during Lent in 1706, at the Brussels court of the Spanish Netherlands, during the War of the Spanish Succession (I found every piece of this description equally exciting)
Maybe it’s just the season, but without intending it, lately I seem to be coming up with almost monochromatic meals. Sometimes I don’t realize this until I’ve snapped the picture, and then of course it’s too late.
Especially before I added a rasher of bacon, the breakfast/lunch I put on the table today, while not quite limited to a single color, certainly didn’t look as parti-colored as the ones we enjoyed this summer.
Fortunately neither the eggs nor the ‘ham’ were actually green.
- the ingredients of the meal were, eggs from pastured [green] Americauna chickens and thick bacon from pastured pigs, both products of Millport Dairy Farm; local (regional) Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ from Whole Foods Market; finely-chopped pieces of a green scallion from Stokes Farm, chopped sections form one Berried Treasures green garlic scape, and a fresh green aji rico pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm; Maldon salt; freshly-ground black pepper; a pinch or so of a dry seasoning (not green) called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk; chopped green dill from Stokes Farm; and pieces cut from an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone, and not toasted, that, surprisingly, had survived for several days without turning green after its purchase in the Union Square Greenmarket on Friday
- the music was Handel’s ‘Music for Queen Caroline’, William Christie directing the Choir and Orchestra of Les Arts Florissants, after which we listened to the incredibly gorgeous, ethereal, ‘Missa Videte miraculum’ of Nicholas Ludford (c. 1485-c. 1557), a little-known composer of the English renaissance (with works of Tudor polyphony) who grew up during the reign of Henry VII and died on the cusp the Elizabethan age
[the second image, a cartoon used to advertise the Dr. Seuss TV series adaptation, is from Netflix]
No tomato of any kind showed up this time.
- what did: eggs from pastured Americauna chickens and thick bacon from pastured pigs, both products of Millport Dairy Farm; Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ from Whole Foods Market; finely-chopped pieces of a fresh yellow Granada pepper from Alewife Farm (not hot) and a fresh red aji rico pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, (medium spicy/hot); 3 small scallions from Keith’s Farm; Maldon salt; freshly-ground black pepper; chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm; and slices, some toasted and some not. toasts from a She Wolf Bakery a sourdough bâtard and a sturdy ‘Bolzano Miche’ (white wheat flour, spelt flour, rye flour, rye sourdough, yeast, coriander, cumin, and fennel) from Brooklyn’s Runner & Stone Bakery
[image of Rembrandt’s ‘Het feestmaal van Belsazar‘ (ca. 1635-1639) from Art and the Bible]
The only thing even slightly exceptional about this version of our regular Sunday bacon and eggs breakfasts that I can think to mention is the fact that everything on the plate was fresh, with the exception of the salt, pepper, and capers (they arrived after the photo was taken). There were no other dry spices, and no dry herbs.
- the ingredients were eggs from pastured Americauna chickens and thick bacon from pastured pigs, both products of Millport Dairy Farm; one Opalka plum tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm; torn basil leaves (Gotham Greens Rooftop, from Whole Foods); a small finely-chopped piece of an aji dulce pepper (not really hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm; some tomato water or juices that remained from a salsa created for an earlier meal; the last of some Mediterranean organic wild capers in brine (from a Providence, Rhode Island distributor) that had been drained, dried, covered in olive oil, and served as a condiment on the side; Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, scissored buds and fine fronds off of a bunch of fresh fennel from from Lani’s Farm; and toasts from 2 loaves of bread from She Wolf Bakery, a sourdough bâtard and a sturdy country bread miche with what my mother used to tell us was a baker’s hole, or, “the place where the baker slept” [the toast in the picture began as a thick slice of the miche; I had sliced it too thick to fit inside our 1934 art deco Toastmaster, and while it looks a bit like it might have been toasted at the end of a fork over an open fire, I used our ‘Camp-A-Toaster’: it was delicious, especially the dark part, which surprised me]