Today’s Sunday breakfast was somewhat more basic than usual (no alliums, not a single tomato, and only one herb and one micro green).

Both the incredibly delicious eggs and the bacon came from an Amish family’s farm in Lancaster County. We will be enjoying their smoked pork chops and sauerkraut tonight.

• the breakfast’s elements included 6 free-range eggs and 4 thick slices of thick bacon, all from Millport Dairy Farm, the eggs dusted with a little dried dark habanada pepper, Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, micro cilantro and chopped lovage, the latter two both from Windfall Farms, and served with lightly-toasted
  Bien Cuit rye and sunflower bread from Foragers Market
• the Sunday music was the album, ‘W.F. Bach: Cantatas Vol 1’, the music performed by the Rheinische Kantorei and Das Kleine Konzert conducted by Hermann Max

It was all good.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson Valley Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar (in our sugar bowl, infused over a very long time with a whole vanilla bean), left standing for 30 or 45 minutes before it was pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat in a tiny bit of olive oil for a total of 8 or 9 minutes, turning once, the fatty side down first, draining the oil part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], removed when medium rare (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before finishing it with a drizzle of juice from a sweet local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and drops of olive oil, garnished with some micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms [NOTE: the tenderloin was removed from the breast before it was marinated, but seasoned as the rest of the breast, and fried very briefly near the end of the time the bulk of the meat was cooking, dividing it into two parts and arranging it on the plates aside the main section of the breast]
• four Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods halved, placed inside the pan as the asparagus completed cooking, turned once, removed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and arranged on the plates near the duck breast sections
• 14 or so thick stalks of asparagus from Stokes Farm, trimmed, the stems peeled, tossed in a couple of tablespoons of butter, about a tablespoon of olive oil, and a few branches of thyme, inside a large enameled rectangular cast-iron pan, then sautéed over medium high heat, frequently rolling or turning them in the mix of butter, oil, and herb until crisp-tender and beginning to brown (about 15 minutes), finished with a sprinkling of Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry peppercorns
• the wine was a California (Lodi) red, Karen Birmingham Zinfandel Lodi 2014, from Naked wines
• the music was the album, ‘W. F. Bach: Concerti & Trios‘, works by Bach’s eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann (“neither a copycat nor a patsy to fashion” – from the liner notes)

Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’ or Sea/Ocean Trout). I’ve written it before: We love this fish.

I seem to have prepared it 3 times, in 3 different sizes, in the first post calling it ‘Weakfish’ but eventually I tagged it Squeteague, mostly out of my fondness for coastal New England and its Narragansett heritage [Narragansett: pesukwiteag, meaning ‘they give glue’, because glue is made from them (or was)].

I had originally planned on accompanying the fillets with fiddleheads alone, but when I had spread the furled fronds on the counter, I realized there really weren’t enough of them for that major role, and I reached for the basket where I had been storing some blue potatoes for over a month.

The first picture is of some of the fishmonger’s buckets, as I found them in the Greenmarket, under a scuffed plexi lid, showing, clockwise from the top left, cod, scallops, mackerel, and Squeteague.

The second shot is of some of the farmer’s foraged fiddleheads.

The third, of the blue potatoes, may look familiar: I’ve used the same shot before. I picked up the tubers at the Greenmarket on March 31, and I included a majority of them in the meal I prepared that night.

• two 8-ounce fillets of Squeteague (aka ‘Weakfish’ or Sea/Ocean Trout) from Blue Moon Fish Company, marinated for about half an hour on the counter in a mix of a little olive oil, one minced garlic clove from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, and 11 different herbs (yeah, I went overboard, especially just one would have actually been enough), including one large crushed fresh bay leaf from West Side Market, rosemary, chives, and oregano from Stokes Farm, sage from S. & S.O. Produce Farm, parsley from Norwich Meadows farm, mint from Phillips Farm, thyme from Eataly, lovage and cilantro from Windfall Farms, dill from Bodhitree Farm, after which the fillets were drained, sautéed or fried for about 2 minutes inside a lightly-oiled (one tablespoon), tin-lined heavy oval copper pan which had been pre-heated to medium-hot, skin-slide down first, then turned and cooked for another minute, arranged on the plates, the juices drizzled on top, garnished with micro red amaranth from Windfall Farms [I had originally intended to put the amaranth on the potatoes, but I realized at the last moment that they might almost disappear in their blue-purple hue)
• three ‘blue potatoes’ from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Pyrex glass pot, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
• one small basket of fiddlehead ferns from Tamarack Hollow Farm, blanched for 3 or 4 minutes, drained, dried, briefly sautéed with chopped wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm that had already been warmed, and some chopped thyme from Eataly, finished with a squeeze of juice from a sweet local lemon form Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Domaine Vincent Giraudon Primavera Côte Roannaise 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault 
• the music was the album, ‘1700 – The Century of the Portuguese‘ (we are going to be in Portugal and Galicia in late may and early June, and had just finished watching

Dinner for two, assembled quickly last night (May 4) after a long day at an art fair.

• between one and two tablespoons of olive oil heated slowly inside a large high-sided tin-lined heavy copper pan with a crushed piece of dark habanada pepper, and a handful of wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm, the garlic not allowed to cook fully, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, joined by half a dozen or so halved Kalamata olives olives from Whole Foods Market and a handful of pine nuts which had been slowly heated and browned earlier inside a small well-seasoned cast iron pan, a 10-ounce package of frozen Rana portobello-mushroom-and-ricotta-filled ravioli from Eataly, boiled inside a large pot of well-salted water for 2 minutes and drained, slipped into the copper pan and mixed well with the sauce, everything stirred together over a low flame, along with some of the reserved pasta water (in order to emulsify the liquid), mixed with chopped lovage from Windfall Farms, the pasta then arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, some olive oil drizzled on top and around the edges, the dish finished with a little micro coriander from Windfall Farms
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, made with the Portuguese Touriga grape, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Touriga 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Franz Schmidt’s Symphony No. 2, Semyon Bychkov conducting the Vienna Philharmonic

As I wrote in my first outing with this original, we love our local Sfoglini pasta. On Tuesday I prepared a meal using the second half of a package of their Bronx brewery BxB radiators.

• 8 ounces of Sfoglini Pasta Shop‘s Bronx brewery BxB radiators (“spent grain from Bronx Rye Pale Ale, which is comprised of five different barley malts, resulting in a roasted barley finish”, according to the maker), carefully boiled to ‘safe territory’, that is, something between ‘too hard’ and ‘too mushy’, drained, tossed inside a large tin-lined heavy tall-sided copper pan in which a simple sauce had been created by warming two ramp bulbs from Max Creek Hatchery, chopped, with a bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia until the alliums had mostly softened and given off a gentle aroma, before some upland cress from Paffenroth Gardens and the roughly-chopped green leaves of most of a bunch of ramps (Max Creek Hatchery) were added and stirred over a low to medium flame until barely wilted, with some reserved pasta water to emulsify the sauce, seasoned with a little salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, divided into 2 shallow bowls, a little olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta, some Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly slivered over the top
• the wine was an Austrian (Kremstal) white, Steinig Grüner Veltliner Austria 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was from the album, ‘C. P. E. Bach: Symphonies & Concertos‘

Both parts of this meal were roasted. It’s a cooking process I won’t want to work with very often as the weather warms, but it has a lot going for it.

I don’t know that porgy has a season as such, but asparagus, or at least the best asparagus does. This was the best asparagus.

I normally go very easy on accoutrements for this noble vegetable, but I loosened my own constraints this time in order to add ramps, plus a few branches of thyme, to moderate the more exuberant tendencies of the these wonderful spring alliums, although these ‘wood leeks’ are actually pretty mild.

Rather than purchasing asparagus bunches already assembled by the farmer, I like ‘picking’ my own, in order to get a consistent size, and also, I suppose, to feel just a wee bit closer to the earth. Besides, I’m keeping some rubber band alive a little longer. I’d say they also look prettier that way for their portrait.

It was the best asparagus I’ve ever had, but who knows what that means? I know I’m at least safe in saying so, because I can’t actually be proven wrong.

As for the treatment of the fish, there was only one herb, some breadcrumbs, and a little lemon. I added a garnish of purple micro greens at the end, for a refreshing, raw element, but also to introduce a third color to the plates.

The fillets were therefore not disguised, and they were delicious – as fish, which is a good thing.

• two 7-ounce porgy fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, scored with several very shallow slashes on the skin side, to prevent curling, put into a tin-lined copper au gratin dish, skin side down, sprinkled with chopped dill from Phillips Farm (although almost any fresh herb would do as well), sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, some homemade dry bread crumbs scattered lightly on top, and a bit of olive oil drizzled over all, placed in a 425º oven for about 12-15 minutes, removed, arranged on plates, drizzled with juice from a sweet local lemon grown by Dave at Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and finished with purple radish micro greens from Windfall Farms
• fourteen stalks (a little over a pound) of moderately-thick green asparagus spears from John D. Madera Farm, trimmed, the stems peeled, mixed with the white sections of 14 ramps from Dave of Max Creek Hatchery, rolled with a handful of thyme branches from Eataly in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 425º for about 15 to 20 minutes, with 6 or 8 green ramp leaf sections, roughly-chopped, thrown onto the top just before they had finished cooking, removed to 2 plates and drizzled with more of the juice from the local lemon used on the porgy
• the wine was an Austrian (Kremstal) white, Steinig Grüner Veltliner Austria 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was the album of contemporary chamber music, ‘Light-distance: Portuguese Wind Quintets‘

Sole is what many folks think of when they think of heavenly fish. It is heavenly, but I think its most empyrean aspect may be its texture. Yeah, divine, and I think the northwest Atlantic gray sole may be the finest of all.

We enjoyed it once again this past Friday night (April 28), in almost the simplest preparations imaginable.

• four 3-and-a-half-ounce gray sole fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, dried thoroughly, salted and brushed with a good white wine vinegar, sautéed in a olive oil and a bit of butter, turning once, then removed to 2 plates, the pan wiped with a paper towel before 2 or 3 tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter, 2 tablespoons or so of juice from a Fantastic Gardens of Long Island sweet local lemon, and a bit of micro fennel from Windfall Farms were introduced and allowed to heat for a minute or so, that sauce spread onto the sole, which was served with lemon quarters

• nearly a pound of small Red Norland Potatoes from Berried Treasures, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm vintage Pyrex glass pot, rolled in a little butter, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, sprinkled with scissored chives from Stokes Farm, finished on the plates with a bit of with a small amount of homemade breadcrumbs (browned earlier in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt)

• flowering kale from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, drained, and braised/wilted inside a large, heavy, tin-lined copper pot in which two garlic cloves from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had been allowed to sweat over low heat in a little olive oil, the dish finished with a bit of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, and a drizzle of olive oil
• The wine was a California (grapes from the Sacramento River Delta with a small amount of Viognier from Lodi) white, Miriam Alexandra Chenin Blanc California 2016, by Alexandra Farber, from Naked Wines
• the music was Anton Bruckner’s 1863-1869 Symphony No ‘0’, Riccardo Chailly conducting Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra

It was another celebratory dinner.  This one was the 26th anniversary of the evening Barry and I first met.

On the night in 1991 night celebrated this past Thursday (April 27), we had each been to different concerts with different good friends. These two had earlier agreed, each separately, with a second friend, to gather afterward at a relatively discrete (no windows, pub-ish) Chelsea queer watering hole, The Break. Somehow within this mathematical puzzle of 6 individuals, Barry and I were introduced to each other, as it were, through 2 degrees of separation.

I don’t remember anything else about that evening, other than that I was beguiled, and that we exchanged phone numbers.

We had tickets for a concert again on the night of this anniversary, but late in the afternoon we decided to enjoy a good meal at home instead. I defrosted some little lamb chops that I had brought home from the Greenmarket the week before. I may have gone slightly overboard on the number of vegetables with which I chose to accompany them, but they were a diverse lot.

Those sides included radishes,

whose greens were cooked separately, with equal amounts of upland cress,

and one small white-going-on-magenta head of cabbage.

• four small lamb chops (barely-3-ounces each) from Consider Bardwell Farm, dried thoroughly, cooked on a very hot enameled cast iron grill pan for about 5 or 6 minutes on each side, seasoned with salt and pepper after they were first turned over, finished with a squeeze of juice from a sweet local lemon (Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, in the Union Square Greenmarket), scattered with chopped rosemary from Stokes Farm (whose folks had recently returned from a winter hibernation), and drizzled with a little olive oil
• two Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, briefly grilled in the same pan after the chops had been removed, seasoned with salt an pepper, drizzled with olive oil
• one bunch of French Breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farm, washed, the leaves removed and set aside (the little white ‘tails’ left on), sautéed in a little olive oil in a medium tin-lined copper skillet for a few minutes, or until they could be easily pierced with a thin metal skewer, some roughly-chopped wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm added very near the end, when a little white wine was poured in and stirred until the liquid had evaporated, the radishes and garlic arranged on the plates and garnished with micro fennel from Windfall Farms
• radish greens, which had been removed earlier from the radishes themselves, together with upland cress from Paffenroth Gardens and one small head of white cabbage from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in olive oil in which 2 bruised and halved garlic cloves fromLucky Dog Organic Farm Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper, part of one dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, crushed, then arranged on the plates with a little more olive oil drizzled on top

The lamb was preceded by a primi, the third, and final appearance of the conchiglie al forno prepared for the April 19th meal, once again embellished with a little ricotta, to make up for the slight cheese deficit when it was first prepared, and yes, I think this dish really does better each time it’s reheated.

• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Napa) red, Jac Cole Mosaico Napa Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout was an album of contemporary chamber works by the Portuguese composer, Luis Tinoco (we will be in Portugal in late May and early June, and we’re cramming for it)

I’ve said before that I don’t think Tilefish is very well known here, and that still seems surprising, since, above everything else it has great flavor and it remains a very good bargain.  Tilefish has a mild, sweet flavor, apparently shaped by what it largely feeds upon at the bottom of the Continental Shelf, and that includes crab, shrimp, and snails.

Tilefish catches, off Long Island at least, also seem to get high marks for sustainability, an additional encouragement, and the fish that I bring home always comes from small boats, not factories.

I’ve included this information while assuming that the Golden Tilefish, or Lopholatilus chamaelonticeps, pictured below, is the species whose fillets I purchased at the Greenmarket on Friday:

• three tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter allowed to melt inside a tin-lined oval copper au gratin pan in a 475ª oven until barely browned, 3 or 4 roughly-chopped ramp leaves and at least 3 tablespoons of 6 chopped herbs (rosemary from Stokes Farm, sage from S. & S.O. Produce Farm, parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm, dill and mint from Phillips Farm, and thyme from Eataly) scattered around the pan, 2 fillets of tilefish (7 ounces each) from Blue Moon Fish Company, rinsed, dried, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, placed inside, skinned side down, then roasted, turning once, for about 12 minutes, or until done, removed to the plates, sauced with the pan juices
• six Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, halved, warmed in a little olive oil with some chopped wild garlic (bulbs and stems) from Lani’s Farm, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground pepper, sprinkled with scissored chives from Stokes Farm and garnished with a bit of some remaining chopped mixed herbs

• a small bunch of collards from Norwich Meadows Farm and a smaller amount of upland cress from Paffenroth Gardens, torn into small sections (most of the stems were tender enough to include in the cooking), washed several times and drained, transferred to a smaller bowl very quickly, in order to retain as much of the water clinging to them as possible, wilted inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pot in which 4 small garlic cloves from from Lucky Dog Organic Farm had first been allowed to sweat in a bit of olive oil, a little crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia along with them, the greens finished with a little salt, freshly-ground pepper, a bit of sweet local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, ROX Scott Peterson Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2015 from Naked Wines
• the music was Mozart’s Symphonies Nos. 21 and 23, plus Johann Christian Bach’s Symphony in G Minor, Op. 6, No. 6, and Grand Overtures, Op. 18, all performed by Academy for Ancient Music Berlin

I had a full bunch of ramps, purchased at the Greenmarket on Saturday, and I knew I could get more the next day, so I looked around for a pasta recipe which would not stint on these terrific wild spring alliums.

I went on line an hour before starting dinner, and I quickly found, ‘Spaghetti Pan-Fried with Ramps & Mint‘.

The ingredients were few, the process pretty simple, and I was astounded at how delicious – and complex – this pasta turned out to be. Some of the credit should probably go to my adding part one pepperoncino, but most of it was surely the formula itself and the quality of the ingredients.

The dish was VERY good, and it got even better over time and as it moved to room temperature. Lesson: do not eat in haste, and do not insist on hot food.

Otherwise, the recipe itself is in the link in the second paragraph above, and the several ingredients I used on this night are:

• eight ounces of a Neapolitan artisanal pasta, Afeltra spaghetto, from Eataly; one bunch of ramps ramps from Violet Hill Farm; a California (Sonoma) white, ROX Scott Peterson Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2015 from Naked Wines; half of a crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia; and Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly, both grated and slivered
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Karen Birmingham 2015 Pinot Grigio, also from Naked Wines
• the music was two major works by Joonas Kokkonen, his Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2, performed by the Finnish Radio Symphony conducted by Sakari Oramo