That bacon was as good as it looks. As was everything else, including the the eggs, which, for the first time in longer than I can remember, were not from a farmer at the Union Square Greenmarket, and [probably] not really local. While there on Saturday, I didn’t buy eggs, thinking I had 11 left in the refrigerator. Later I discovered there were only 5, so I headed down the block to Whole Foods and looked for something that might be equivalent to what we’re used to.

I don’t know how long they had been away from the hen, but the 6 large ‘Vital Farms Pasture Raised Organic Eggs‘, described as ‘From Family Farms Across America’ (thus my question about how local they could be) were very good! Maybe it also had something to do with the fact that the package was able to certify ‘min 108 sq ft’ for the ‘pasture raised standard / outdoor space per bird’ (hell, most folks’ offices aren’t that large).

• the breakfast/lunch included 6 large eggs from Vital Farms (see above); thick bacon slices/pieces from a package of ‘ends’ I had cut by hand at home, from Millport Dairy; finely-chopped portions of one tiny yellow and one tiny red hot pepper, both from Eckerton Hill Farm, which had been swimming in olive oil inside a small cup overnight; 2 habanada peppers, chopped, from Norwich Meadows Farm; chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper; a mix of various chicories and tender greens the folks of Campo Rosso Farm had presented to guests at a farm dinner at Untitled, dressed with a Campania oil and white balsamic vinegar, maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper; an aromatic Middle-Eastern-style seasoning blend, ‘L’eKama‘; and toast from slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop, made on my ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post]
• the music was Hans Zender’s Logos-fragmente (Canto Ix), which happens to include early Christian texts, so accounting for its being chosen on a Sunday morning (it’s our weekly conceit)

Saturday was my first trip to the Union Square Greenmarket since the previous Monday. I celebrated by picking up some beautiful large scallops, giving them a kind of treatment, analogous but on a much simpler scale, to that Julia Child outlined in her version of ‘Tournedos Rossini’ (filet steaks with artichoke hearts, foie gras, truffles, and madeira sauce) 55 years ago (confession: I’ve prepared them myself, at least twice, although not in 40 years).

Last night, my own gilded-lilies, fresh local sea scallops, were, mercifully for the decency and self-respect of both crustaceans and diners, of the 21st century and not the 19th, more nouvelle cuisine than cuisine classique. The haute cuisine of the 20th century which was deconstructed in the 1960s had developed in the 1890s, largely based on the works of Auguste Escoffier. It was itself a reaction against and simplification of a previous, well-established tradition, one which also had been a response to a still earlier ‘school’ of cuisine, following a line which backward, past La Varenne and his patron Louis XIV, to renaissance Italy, then deep into the middle ages, ultimately stopping at imperial Rome (unless Persia is factored in).

Each of these historic shifts in the grand style of cooking could be described as an attempt to simplify ingredients, processes, and presentation. It also reflected the broadening of the ruling class and the rise of a middle class. I get all of that, and its pretty much where I myself am in the kitchen – and at the dining table – today.

The most recent developments in cookery transcend the long reign of the French convention, and center on an emphasis on local ingredients, of which this particular meal is a pretty good exemplar: With the exception of the olive oil, the salt, the peppercorns, and the wine, absolutely everything included in this meal came from the Greenmarket in Union Square, which hosts only local farmers, fishermen, and other suppliers.

One important aside: There’s no question that, especially the further we go back in time, only the wealthiest (or sometime privileged) were ever able to enjoy the delights which well-subsidized, very inventive chefs were able to create, and this is still pretty much the case today.

I’m fully aware that I’m only able to indulge my interest in and appetite for good food (good in every sense) and the ambience of a good place where it can be enjoyed because I have time, enough resources, a lot of interest in preparing it myself at home, and the perfect table partner and muse. These are conditions few people, even the wealthiest and most privileged, can easily arrange, but well worth the try.

• 10 thick sea scallops (12 ounces) from Seatuck Fish Company, rinsed, dried, slit horizontally with a very sharp knife almost all of the way, stuffed with a mixture of basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods, one medium-size clove of garlic from Stokes Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, chopped together very finely, removed to a small bowl where just enough olive oil was added to form a paste, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil, drained, then pan grilled about 2 minutes on each side, removed to 2 plates, garnished with purple micro radish from Windfall Farms, and one halved local [!] tiny lemon-lime (unidentified by variety) from David’s Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, placed in small cups on the side, drizzled over the scallops
• a mixture of 3 Japanese scallions and 2 habanada peppers, both from Norwich Meadows Farm, heated briefly in a little olive oil until fragrant and softened, arranged on the plates
• a modest amount of young yellow-flower purple mustard greens from Windfall Farms, wilted for only about 10 to 15 seconds in a little live oil in which one clove of sliced garlic from Stokes Farm had been allowed to sweat, a small amount of one yellow and one red hot pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm added just before the greens, then seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of oil

There was also cheese.

• a small slice of ‘Bigelow’ goat cheese from Ardith Mae
• finely-chopped portions of one yellow and one red hot pepper, both hot from Eckerton Hill Farm [augmented with a little olive oil after the picture was taken]
• toast from slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop

• the wine throughout was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout was Mozart’s 1782 opera, ‘Die Entführung aus dem Serail’, John Eliot Gardiner conducting the English Baroque Soloists and the Monteverdi Choir, with Stanford Olsen, Luba Orgonasova, Cyndia Sieden, Uwe Peper, et al. (I love the spoken dialogue, which is included in this performance and recording)

We expected to be away from home on Friday evening, so I had not gone to the Greenmarket. Instead I was prepared to quickly ‘compose’ a salad when we returned. We never left, but the composed salad remained our dinner nevertheless, followed by a cheese course.

• The ingredients were: some more of the colorful mixture of various chicories and tender greens which the folks of Campo Rosso Farm had presented to guests at a farm dinner at Untitled, tossed with sliced Japanese scallions and chopped habanada peppers, both from Norwich Meadows Farm; chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; torn basil from Gotham Greens via Whole Foods; chopped heirloom cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm; and a teaspoon of poppy seed, dressed with Maldon salt, freshly ground pepper, a good Campania olive oil, a small drizzle of organic lemon, then divided into bowls and topped with torn segments from a 3-ounce package of Blue Hill Farm smoked Alaskan sockeye salmon, from Murray’s Cheese
• slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop
• the wine was a California (Lodi) rosé, Karen Birmingham Rosé Lodi 2015
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 3, Giuseppe Sinopoli conducting the Dresden Staatskapelle

Yoeman service.

Because of our schedules lately, all of the meals I’ve recently prepared have had to be somewhat improvised, even a bit sketchy, and often involved leftovers, and what I call ‘hangers on’ (ingredients that have been around for a while and which I judge really should make it into a meal soon).

This time there was a fresh, unplanned guest: the beautiful contents of a ‘goody bag’ from our previous night’s outing at Untitled, the restaurant that’s a part of the new Whitney Museum.  The farmers around whose produce last night’s dinner was built, Chris Field and Jessi Okamoto, gave each of the dinner guests a selection of chicories and other greens from their vast lands (8 acres in eastern Pennsylvania) as each of us was leaving. We got 2 of them, so we will all be seeing some of their work on this site for a little while.

These meals at home have all been yeoman service, and are appreciated, but I’m actually getting physically and emotionally anxious after being absent so long from my other safe place, the Union Square Greenmarket, and from the pleasures of real cooking.

I’ll be visiting both tomorrow.

• two ounces of La Quercia Lomo, in thin slices (this cured pork tenderloin turns out to be more than just a Spanish thing, viz. lonza di maiale stagionata) from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very small amount of a very good olive oil, Campania D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’
• served with a colorful mixture of various chicories and tender greens, a gift from the people of Campo Rosso Farm, dressed with Maldon salt, freshly ground pepper, the Campania olive oil, and a small drizzle of white balsamic vinegar
• slices of Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ boule ((here the word, ‘corn’ derived from ‘korn’, means grains or kernels, and it has usually meant rye grain in Jewish Eastern Europe), from Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market

The main course really was a straight leftover, and needed no updating; the pasta and its sauce having retained the sturdiness and rich savoriness that had not asked for anything extra a few nights before.

• leftover Sfoglini chestnut fusilli and its sauce, of red onion from Stokes Farm, rosemary branches from Stokes Farm, red cabbage from Tamarack Hollow Farm, a little balsamic vinegar, and a heatless Habanada pepper form Norwich Meadows Farm (I forgot to serve it with the freshly-grated Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia I had sprinkled on top the first time around

There was cheese.

• 3 Consider Bardwell Farm selections, ‘Manchester’, a medium-hard goat cheese‘, Experience’, a pasteurized, somewhat soft cow cheese, and ‘Pawlet’, a medium-hard cow cheese, served with toasts made from an Orwasher’s multigrain, seeded baguette

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Marche) white, Saladini Pilastri Falerio 2015, from Phillippe Wines
• the music throughout was Puccini’s ‘Turandot’, a performance of Francesco Molinari-Pradelli conducting the Rome Opera House Orchestra and Rome Opera House Chorus, with  Birgit Nilsson, Franco Corelli, Ida Farina, Renata Scotto, and others

In my head: The idea of a pasta came first, then the tomatoes, the prosciutto antipasto later, just before the pasta and tomatoes got some company, minutina was added to the prosciutto, along with bread, and then a few olives, and finally a bit of dried habanada pepper jumped into the pasta mix, altering its taste chemistry, and now we had a very satisfying meal.

I get the fantastic scent of these dried peppers just looking at this picture.

 

• The salumi was Colameco’s prosciutto (3 ounces), from Whole Foods; the minutina was from Norwich Meadows Farm, and both were drizzled with good olive oil and a squeeze of a small lemon grown locally by David of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, some pitted Kalamata olives from Whole Foods arranged between them; the bread was Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ boule (here the word, ‘corn’ derived from ‘korn’, means grains or kernels, and it has usually meant rye grain in Jewish Eastern Europe), from Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market
• the pasta was prepared much along the lines of this recipe, halving the amounts, using homemade breadcrumbs, parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm, Pecorino Romano from Buon Italia, lemon zest from one of David’s Fantastic Gardens of Long Island local lemons, Afeltra spaghettone, garlic from Stokes Farm, cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, but the major variation from the basic recipe was the introduction of a very small amount of crushed almost-but-not-quite-carbonized home-dried habanada pepper into the pot while warming the garlic and red pepper flakes in the olive oil, just before adding the tomatoes, giving the sauce a very subtle, slight smokiness
• the wine was an Italian (Toscana) white, Villa Antinori Bianco 2015
• the music was Handel’s 1721 opera, ‘Floridante, Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Roberta Invernizzi, Marijana Mijanovic, and Joyce DiDonato, among others

Very, very nice dish. Both of them.

I have to credit the addition of two small heatless habanada chilis for making this dish, one I’ve prepared a number of times , even more delicious than usual.

The vegetable side? I think I’m getting better, and just a little more creative, at dealing with this relative newcomer to American plates.

• one 17-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood at the Union Square Greenmarket, prepared more or less using a recipe from Mark Bittman which I originally came across almost 12 years ago: I washed and rinsed the fillet and cut it into three pieces, laying them on a bed of coarse sea salt, and adding more on top, until they were completely covered, then setting them aside while slicing, to a thickness of less than 1/4 inch about 14 ounces of Norland red potatoes from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, (purchased back on August 13th, and still in great shape), tossing them in a large bowl with 2 chopped heatless habanada peppers from Norwich Meadows Farm, a tablespoon of olive oil, salt, and pepper, arranging them, overlapping, inside a rectangular enameled cast iron pan, cooking them for 30 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender, meanwhile thoroughly immersing the cod in many changes of water in order to bring down the saltiness (incidentally the soaking process somehow gives the fish more solidity, which you will feel while handling it), draining and drying the two pieces before placing them inside the pan on top of the potatoes, topping the fillets with a little olive oil and scattering them with some freshly-ground pepper, returning the pan to the oven for 8 to 12 minutes (the time would depend on the thickness of the cod), removing the fish with a spatula (or, much better, 2 spatulas) along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought with each piece, and arranging all of it on 2 plates, returning with the remainder of the potatoes, sprinkling chopped parsley parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm and scattering purple micro beets from Two Guys from Woodbridge to finish the dish
• a Strauss of minutina (only a portion of a larger bouquet) from Lani’s Farm, washed, drained, then barely wilted, inside a large enamelled cast iron pot with a bit of olive oil, above a low-to-medium-hot flame, seasoned with salt and pepper, mixed with 8 pitted kalamata olives from Whole Foods, and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus Chardonnay 2014, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s ‘Alcina’, a fantastic performance with Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Kobie van Rensburg, Vito Priante, Joyce DiDonato, Sonia Prina, Karina Gauvin, Maité Beaumont, Laura Cherici, et al. [for a breathtaking glimpse of an early-18th-century world displaying more romantic warmth and passion than we have been told to expect, listen to Karina Gauvin singing the aria, ‘credete al mio dolore’, from the recording we heard last night]

I routinely forget how delicious, and easy to prepare, sunchokes are.  While my neglect of this wonderful native American vegetable may have something to do with a residual conservatism about food sources, helianthus tuberosus not having any place in my understanding of the European kitchen, the original inspiration for these meals, it may be that it was the sometime name, ‘Jerusalem artichoke’, because it had seemed bogus to me for so long, that has been responsible for my overlooking their unique pleasures.

• one 18-ounce Delmonico steak from Millport Dairy Farm, dried, pan-grilled to medium rare, divided into 2 pieces, drizzled on the plates with a squeeze of local lemon [sic!] from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island and a little olive oil, finished with a sprinkling of purple micro radish from Windfall Farms
• a mix of sun gold tomatoes from Stokes Farm and varicolored cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, slow-roasted with a generous amount of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, olive oil, and a large garlic clove from Stokes Farm, halved
• sunchokes (about 12 ounces), their small ‘rootlings’ removed, trimmed, scrubbed, sliced very thinly (1/8 inch, but they probably didn’t have to be that thin), tossed with barely a tablespoon of olive oil (I think the small amount is somewhat critical to ensuring maximum crispiness), sea salt, and freshly-ground pepper, spread in one layer onto 2 Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pans (a single pan wasn’t enough, since they had been cut so thinly and should show a lot of surface), sprinkled with thin slices of 2 small sliced [formerly green onions, or fresh white onions, seen in the picture above] from Berried Treasures, roasted at 425º for about 35 minutes, chopped habanada tossed on the tubers near the end (they could be heated a little first), or until they were brown, tender, and crispy on the edges, then dusted with dried fennel pollen from Buon Italia, and shuffled around in the pans with a wooden spatula
• the wine was a California (Napa) red, Ken Deis Napa Valley Merlot 2015
• the music was Beethoven’s ‘Fidelio’, Colin Davis conducting the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Bavarian Radio Chorus, with Ben Heppner, Deborah Voigt, Matthias Hölle, Günter von Kannen, Thomas Quasthoff, Michael Schade, Elizabeth Norberg-Schulz, Andreas Schulist, Wilfried Vorwold, et al.

Orange here.

It has nothing to do with the freakish coloring of a certain monster abroad in the land these months. I would prefer not to have to look at it under any circumstances, and in particular staring up at me from the breakfast table. Nevertheless, I have noticed that various shades of orange have been appearing very prominently in a number of the meals described here lately [whose ingredients all come by their colorings naturally – Ed.].

The color may not have been more prominent, at least until now, than in this Sunday breakfast.

• six eggs and and 4 thick bacon slices from a package of ‘ends’ I had cut by hand at home, both ingredients from Millport Dairy; around a dozen sun gold heirloom tomatoes from Stokes Farm, halved, and not cooked; one very small ‘red wing’ onion from Keith’s Farm, finely sliced; one chopped no-heat Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm; Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper; parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm and rosemary from from Phillips Farm, both finely chopped; purple micro radish from Windfall Farm, and a superb aromatic seasoning blend called L’eKama
• the toast was made on my ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post] and the bread used was a day-old, Orwasher’s multigrain, seeded baguette purchased the previous afternoon at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, cut in rather short segments along its length, each sliced in 3 horizontal layers
• normally we choose some classical piece of ‘sacred’ music as an allusion to the traditional (Christian) cultural Sunday, but this day we went with a complete performance of Wagner’s shortened 1843 version of his ‘Rienzi, der Letzte der Tribunen’, chosen for its symbolism in our current political moment, our struggle to retain a freedom Rienzi hoped to win for his 14th-century Roman compatriots

Wintry and earthy, but first a little sun and sea.

Chestnuts and red cabbage, or more precisely, chestnut pasta and red cabbage. But first there was octopus. I’ve served both of these dishes before, but never anywhere near each other. Last night however, looking around for something to lighten a sturdy pasta, at least with some proximity in time, I pulled a thin package of sliced octopus carpaccio out of the refrigerator and went on to wash, try, and tear the bit of arugula I found inside the crisper.

I had first decided it would be a pasta meal, and had almost immediately zeroed in on one of the several earthy Sfoglini varieties sitting in the larder closet. Unusually for me, I had very few vegetables to go with any of them. I did have one very small red cabbage, and while it’s not the first thing that comes to mind when anyone thinks of pasta, one of the Sfoglini available was a chestnut fusilli, and I had combined the 2 ingredients once before.

After a modest serving, we decided we wanted to go on to a third course, knowing the remaining pasta would be just as good reheated on another day, and aware that we had some great cheeses, and some especially attractive bread for toast to accompany them

The meal went this way.

• octopus carpaccio (sliced, pressed octopus), less than 3 ounces altogether, from The Lobster Place, drizzled with a little juice from a tiny lemon grown locally by David of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, and a little drizzle of a very good olive oil
• delicious arugula from Keith’s Organic Farm, washed, trimmed, dried, dressed with Moaldon salt, freshly-ground pepper and the same lemon and oil poured over the octopus
• an Orwasher’s multigrain, seeded baguette (it may be a new product) purchased that afternoon at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market

 

• eight ounces of Sfoglini chestnut fusilli (organic semolina flour, chestnut flour, water) cooked until al dente in a large pot of salted water, some of the water reserved near the end before it was drained, added to a large enameled cast iron pot in which earlier one thinly-sliced red onion from Stokes Farm had been softened in a couple tablespoons of ‘Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter‘, to be followed by one large minced garlic clove from Stokes Farm, stirred until fragrant, 3 or 4 rosemary branches from Stokes Farm tossed in and heated for a minute or so, more butter added at that point, followed by about half a pound of cored and thinly-sliced red cabbage from Tamarack Hollow Farm, all stirred well then cooked, covered, for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until tender, with a few tablespoons of balsamic vinegar poured in near the end of the cooking, followed by the addition of one chopped heatless Habanada pepper form Norwich Meadows Farm, everything stirred again, the pasta now added to the cabbage, and some of the reserved pasta water introduced into the sauce in stages while the mix was stirred above a low flame to keep it moist, then portions transferred to shallow bowls and served with freshly-grated Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse from Buon Italia sprinkled on top

 

• a cheese course of 3 Consider Bardwell Farm selections, ‘Manchester’, a medium-hard goat cheese‘, Experience’, a pasteurized, somewhat soft cow cheese, and ‘Pawlet’, a medium-hard cow cheese, served with toasts made from the same Orwasher’s multigrain, seeded baguette served with the first course

 

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Toscana) white, Prelius Vermentino Toscana 2015, from Chelsea Wine Vault
• the music was Wagner’s ‘Das Rheingold’, a 1967 performance with Herbert von Karayan, the Berliner Philharmoniker, and an amazing cast: Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (Wotan), Robert Kerns (Donner), Donald Grobe (Frohe), Gerhard Stolze (Loge), Zoltán Kelemen (Alberich), Erwin Wohlfahrt (Mime), Martti Talvela (Fasolt), Karl Ridderbusch (Fafner), Josephine Veasey (Fricka), Simone Mangelsdorff (Freia), Oralia Dominguez (Erda), Helen Donath (Woglinde), Edda Moser (Wellgunde), Anna Reynolds (Floßhilde)

I’ve only myself to blame for not being more creative more often. Much of the time I start dinner so late there’s not enough time left to think about or execute a new plan for familiar ingredients. This was one of those times, but fortunately I had other items on hand to make a familiar entrée at least a little quirky.

Unusual, by recent practice, absolutely no micro greens were needed to add visual or taste excitement to anything that reached the plates last night.

It was all pretty luscious.

• two 7-ounce sea bass fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, dredged in seasoned flour, then dipped in a bowl with one egg from Millport Dairy Farm which had been whipped with a few tablespoons of chopped parsley from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed inside a large oval copper pan above a fairly brisk flame for a couple minutes in a mixture of butter and olive oil, skin side down, turned, left for about one more minute, or until the fish was cooked through (the time varies slightly with the size of the fillets and the height of the flame), the fillets removed from the pan to the plates and sprinkled with a bit of organic lemon, kept as warm as possible, the heat turned off, and a bit of oil and/or butter added to the pan, thin wedges of a small fennel bulb from Lucky Dog Organic Farm which had already  been sautéed until soft in another pan (and combined near the end with one chopped heatless Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm) introduced into and pushed around in the warm pan along with a generous sprinkling of chopped fennel fronds, the fennel and sauce then drizzled next to and onto the fish, which was finished with a little more, fresh, chopped fennel
• a modest amount of very sweet late-season purple/green collards from Tamarack Hollow Farm, cut as a very rough chiffonade, braised in a heavy pot in which 2 small cloves of lightly-crushed garlic from Race Farm had been allowed to sweat with some olive oil, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, F. Stephen Millier Angels Reserve Chardonnay 2014

There was also Schnaps. After the table had been cleared, we decided to listen to the end of the opera we had been enjoying all evening. We poured out the little that was left from a small bottle of a superb Oregon eau de vie that I remembered ws sitting somewhere in the refrigerator door. It was Clear Creek Distillery’s Douglas Fir Brandy, which was inspired by the Alsatian, Eau de Vie de Bourgeons de Sapin [clear brandy of fir buds]. A 2009 New York Times piece, ‘The Pursuit and Pleasures of the Pure Spirit‘, provides the context for the inspiration and production of the distillery’s founder, Steve McCarthy.

• the music throughout was Mozart’s ‘Cosi Fan Tutte’, in a performance of Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, with Miah Persson, Angela Brower, Adam Plachetka, Rolando Villazón, Mojca Erdmann, and Alessandro Corbelli