I usually keep a package of a frozen filled pasta on hand for those nights when I had not expected to be making any dinner at all, but then plans changed.

This was not one of those times. Instead, preparing the ravioli was a deliberate choice by which I managed to occupy the space between 2 more elaborate meals with friends, one as guests in another home, and one in our own.

Almost a night off.

• almost 2 tablespoons of olive oil heated slowly inside a large high-sided tin-lined heavy copper pan with a crushed piece of orange-gold habanada pepper, and a handful of wild garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm, nothing allowed to fully cook, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, a handful of pine nuts added after they had been slowly heated and browned inside a small well-seasoned cast iron pan (I became distracted and briefly lost track, so they went farther than I had intended, but in fact were delicious accompanied by some other strong flavors), a 10-ounce package of frozen Rana portobello-mushroom-and-ricotta-filled ravioli from Eataly, which had been boiled inside a large pot of well-salted water for 2 minutes, then drained, slipped into the copper pan and mixed well with the garlic-habanada sauce, everything stirred together over a low flame with some of the reserved pasta water in order to emulsify the liquid, the pasta then arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, olive oil drizzled on top, and around the edges, a little Parmigiano & Reggiano Bonat 5 anni from Buon Italia grated over the center, some micro red mustard from Windfall Farms artfully arranged [sorry, but I do try] around the border of the pasta
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, ROX Scott Peterson Pinot Noir Sonoma Coast, from Naked Wines
• the music was Haydn, his Symphonies Nos. 12, 60, and 70 (written between 1763 and 1774), Giovanni Antonini conducting Il Giardino Armonico

It was again Sunday breakfast with eggs, this time without the bacon, but with tomatoes (which usually make an appearance at this time) – and leeks, which were standing in for one or more of the smaller alliums which are usually a part of our weekend treat.

Because of other commitments, right now I’m in the midst of almost a week of evenings when I am unable to cook dinner. I hadn’t foreseen this when I was buying vegetables in the Greenmarket, which helps explain the inclusion of the leeks here.

• three medium leeks from Norwich Meadows Farm, cooked with 3 or 4 tablespoons of butter inside a tin-lined heavy copper sauté pan until they were tender, approximately a third of a cup of chopped herbs added (thyme and rosemary from Eataly, peppermint from Lani’s Farm, flat-leaf parsley from Whole Foods, oregano from Lani’s Farm, and lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge), transferred to a buttered glazed ceramic oven dish, the mixture spread evenly on the bottom, 6 eggs from Millport Dairy Farm cracked on top, 6 large Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, each cut in 3 slices, scattered about, and dollops of Ronnybrook Farms crème fraîche, stirred with a little whole milk (double cream would have been more convenient, but I had none), dropped on the surfaces around the eggs and the tomatoes, the dish seasoned with good sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, set on a rack in the middle of an oven preheated to 400º, then served on 2 plates atop thick slices of a toasted ‘polenta boule’ from She Wolf Bakery [I sprinkled some micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge on the plated eggs after I had taken the picture at the top]
• the music was Heinrich Schutz’s 1619, ‘Musikalische Exequien’, Sigiswald Kuijken conducting La Petite Bande 

It was an embarrassment of riches: I think there were 4 varieties of flat fish at the stand, and 3 other kinds of white fish. I love them all, but on Friday I chose the hake, because it was probably the least recent visitor to our kitchen.

That night I re-visited a familiar recipe, ‘nasello dorato‘.

And some vegetables.

• one thick 13-ounce hake fillet from Pura Vida Seafood Company, halved, dredged in well-seasoned flour (in this case, North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour) and dipped in one beaten egg from Millport Dairy Farm, sautéed in 2 tablespoons of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter with a couple dozen tiny (which were all that remained from my  stems) sage leaves from Eataly and a pinch or so of crushed golden orange dried habanada pepper over a brisk flame for a little over 6 minutes, turned over after 3, then sprinkled with some juice of a sweet local lemon from Dave Tifford’s Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, transferred onto the 2 plates, the pan juices poured on top, garnished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and served with lemon wedges on the side
• half a dozen small Yukon Gold potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled in well-salted water, drained and dried in the still-warm glass pot, rolled in a little butter, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground Tellicherrry pepper, and sprinkled with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• mizuna from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which one bruised and halved garlic clove from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, a very small amount of crushed dried crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, arranged on the plates and a little more olive oil drizzled on top
• the wine was an Australia (grapes from 10 regions within South Australia) white, Yalumba Y Series Sauvignon Blanc South Australia 2016, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was the excellent album, ‘Joseph Byrd: NYC 1960–1963‘

It’s just pasta, supposedly, and the ingredients are virtually identical to so many others but, through the mystery of shape, terroir, process, and tradition, croxetti never tastes like any other.

We’ve enjoyed it at home several times, but not in the form we enjoyed last night. I didn’t know what exactly to expect, but I wasn’t disappointed.

• four ounces of Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter, melted over medium heat inside, ideally, a medium non-reactive pan, gently swirling until the butter had begun to turn golden brown, or about 5 minutes, one whole section, crushed, of a golden orange dried habanada pepper then added, followed by a fourth of a cup or more of pine nuts (pinoli) which had earlier been scattered on a small metal baking sheet and toasted inside a 325º oven for about 15 minutes, about half a teaspoon of sea salt, a bit of freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and half of a 2 tablespoon mixture of fresh oregano from Lani’s Farm and parsley from Whole Foods, both chopped, the sauce tossed with 8 ounces of a package of Genovese Alta Valle Scrivia Croxetti from Eataly, the mix stirred over a low to medium flame with some reserved pasta water to emulsify it, then arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges, and topped with a small amount of Parmigiano-Reggiano Vache Rosse from Eataly before it was sprinkled with the remaining chopped herbs
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was chamber music by Vagn Holmboe (1909-1996), performed by Ensemble MidtVest

I’m probably never going to understand why squid are not way up at the top of the scale when it comes to popularity, for their taste alone. When cooked with some sensitivity, they are one of the most delicious seafood forms around, and they really need very little embellishment. They’re also completely sustainable, and I think they’re available all over the world, anywhere people might be settled near an ocean.

They’re also apparently very intelligent, but I’m not sure where that fits into this discussion, especially since the only foods we consume that weren’t once a part of a living thing are salt and water.

Squid are definitely among the least expensive delicacies in a fish market, which I suppose might only represent their abundance, and not the disdain of the consumer, but I still wonder about their modest popularity index.

This particular batch, together with the success I had in cooking them, may have been my best experience with this cephalopod, ever.

I suppose the image below, showing how I arranged a pound of squid on a plate after having dried them thoroughly, just before I placed them in 2 oven pans, might say something about how I feel about these creatures.

The spinach, which had somehow been overwintered in the middle of New Jersey, even without the ‘high cave’ protection which has ensured so many loyal Greenmarket habitués a supply of green vegetables since the end of the so-called ‘growing season’, was impossibly sweet.

• two large rectangular enameled cast iron pans heated on top of the stove until quite hot, their cooking surfaces then brushed with olive oil, and once the oil was also quite hot, one pound of rinsed and carefully dried squid from Blue Moon Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, mostly bodies but a few tentacles, divided between the two in being quickly arranged inside the pans, immediately sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, part of one dried Sicilian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, and an entire section of a home-dried heatless, orange/gold Habanada pepper (purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last fall), some sea salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, followed by a drizzle of a few tablespoons of juice from a local lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and some olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for 5 minutes, removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates, ladled with a bit of their cooking juices, after they had been transferred to a sauce pitcher, scattered with a little micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and served with halves of another, tiny local lemon-lime served on the side of each plate
• a generous amount of very sweet overwintered (I was told not in a ‘high cave’) spinach from Lani’s Farm, washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which one 2 cloves of garlic from John D. Madura Farm, quartered, had first been allowed to sweat, then seasoned with salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, a little of the dried Sicilian pepperoncino, drizzled with olive oil and a little sweet local lemon juice from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Cantina di Lisandro Alabranno Fiano 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was Louis-Nicolas Clérambault’s 1706 pastorale, ‘Le Triomphe D’iris’, performed by Hervé Niquet conducting Le Concert Spirituel