It was wonderful.

And it tasted as spectacular as it looks.

Interestingly, it was assembled with huge portions of serendipity.

The first thing I did at the Union Square Greenmarket yesterday was buy the second-last bunch of the first asparagus I had seen this season, inside the first farmer’s stall just inside the entrance.

My next stop was the fishmonger’s, where I picked out 2 beautiful fillets of very fresh flounder, the perfect size for a meal for two, and also for the large oval steel pan that I would be using for the first time ever.

I hadn’t intended to buy mushrooms that day, but I wanted to show Joe Rizzo of Blue Oyster Cultivation pictures of what had become of the ones I had picked up last week (seen in this meal and this). There I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what he had on the table that day.

These pink oyster mushrooms had to become a part of the meal I was assembling in my head. Joe told me a lot about them, including the fact that the color turns slightly brown when cooked, and that they should be cooked longer than other mushroom varieties normally require. What he didn’t tell me was how extraordinarily delicious they were, or that they would end up tasting a bit like, and looking much like, cooked shellfish (lobster, or, better, crawfish), at least when prepared with the recipe which became my next happy chance.

Tomatoes too!

Pierre Franey was a legend while he lived, and even in death (he died in 1996, at 71, shortly after suffering a stroke while giving a shipboard cooking demonstration aboard the QE2). He seems to have had a way of making superb meals accessible to home cooks, and this particular (undated) recipe, ‘Flounder Filets With Mushrooms and Tomatoes’, which I found while searching ‘flounder’ and ‘mushrooms’, would support that proposition.

Finally, I had a decent supply of spring ramps to recreate a recipe for asparagus that I had used a year ago, and just the right amount of firm, ripe sort-of-local tomatoes (substituting for Franey’s “4 ripe plum tomatoes”) to assemble his entrée, plus a few extras for the whole, like spring garlic, herbs, a micro green garnish, all of it from the bounty of local farmers at the Greenmarket.

The plate looks both traditional and modern, and that pretty much describes what the meal tasted like. Is it French? Where does it fit in the chronology of culinary fashion? The questions are interesting, but not really very important, although I think that with a very few refinements, and if the size of the entrée were hugely reduced until it occupied only the center of the plate, it could pass for haute cuisine (par un amateur). But then I’d have to prepare more courses.

• *this is my slightly-altered arrangement of Pierre Franey’s original recipe: 3 ounces of pungent pink oyster mushrooms (aka ‘pleurotus djamor‘, or ‘pink flamingo oyster mushrooms’) from Blue Oyster Cultivation, “cut into small cubes” (Franey), added to a large antique, high-sided copper pot in which one tablespoon of olive oil and one tablespoon of butter had been heated, sautéed over medium high heat until cooked medium brown (I’m acknowledging Franey’s admonition to “cook briefly”, but apparently these particular mushrooms have to be cooked beyond the stage most others would, or they will have a sour taste), 2 teaspoons of chopped spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm mixed in and softened but not browned, followed by 8 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, each cut into 8 pieces, one tablespoon of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, 2 sprigs of thyme from Stokes Farm, some sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste, the pot removed from heat and kept warm while two rinsed and drained 7-ounce flounder fillets from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, first seasoned on both with salt and pepper, were dipped, both sides, onto a platter spread with 4 or 5 tablespoons of black sesame seeds (I had no tan seeds in the spice cupboard, and as it turned out, for both taste and aesthetic reasons, I’m glad I didn’t), laid inside a very large, seasoned 17-inch steel vintage oval skillet*, over high heat without crowding, once another tablespoon each of olive oil and butter had been heated but not allowed to smoke, the fish cooked over high heat, turning once, “until fillets and seeds are lightly browned on both sides” (this is the catch if you’re using black seeds, so I could only use my judgment here; I probably cooked them only 4 minutes, but the time would vary depending on the thickness of the fillets), arranged on 2 plates and partially covered with the reserved warm sauce that I then sprinkled with chopped parsley from Phillips Farm, the fillets themselves garnished with micro scallions from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• *some 18 or so asparagus from Central Valley Farm (10 to 12 ounces total), of various sizes, plus the white sections (green leaves removed) of an equal number of early-season ramps (the bulbs grow larger as their short season advances through the spring) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, along with a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm, a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground black pepper, all rolled along the surface of a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted in a 425º oven for about 25 minutes, but toward the end of that time the reserved green ramp leaves, roughly-sliced, were thrown onto the top and pushed around a bit just before the asparagus and ramp white sections had finished cooking, and when all was cooked the asparagus mix was removed to 2 plates and drizzled with juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Matt Iaconis Chardonnay Napa Valley 2016, from Naked Wines
• *the music was a  magnificent performance of Schubert’s Piano Quintet in A major, D. 667 ‘The Trout’, with the performers Anne-Sophie Mutter, Daniil Trifonov, Hwayoon Lee, Maximilian Hornunz, and Roman Patkoló (these players obviously really like doing this, and they’re very, very good at it)

 

*

here’e another, closeup shot (couldn’t decide which image to use, so I uploaded both)

It was great.

The story behind this meal began about 2 weeks ago, when I stopped by Walter Adam‘s farm stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, mostly to say hello. I didn’t really need any lamb at the time, but I asked him if he carried racks of lamb. He said he couldn’t give me a straight answer because, while he did, and had 2 on dry ice right there, there was a catch: HIs butcher had neither fully trimmed them nor cut through the chines, the latter  making them very difficult to cut and serve, so they were going to  be a very hard sell. He must have suspected I could spare the time for, do the research on, and be up to the task of, a ‘post-butchering’ operation, so he offered me a very good price if I would take both of the 8-ribbed frozen roasts he had on dry ice in his cooler.

I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Also, it seemed a chance to relive my years of home schooling with Julia Child’s books and their meat diagrams.

As the days passed by, realizing the weather might soon be too warm to really enjoy an oven roast, even a short-termer, I started looking for an opportunity to enjoy the challenge and the fruit of the challenge.

Until yesterday afternoon I had no idea how I was going to perform the operation. Originally I thought I’d have to use a small antique   meat saw I own. Searching about on line I was disabused of the notion, but I wasn’t satisfied with any of the advise I did see, and I had almost given up when I came across 2 sites that [only when viewed together] gave me what I needed. The first was this page of the Leiths Cookery School site, but I didn’t understand the chine bone removal part until I watched this video on Martha Stewart’s site.

I was pretty happy with myself.

Most of the recipe I used last night comes from Martha Stewart as well.

• *one 20-ounce rack of baby lamb from Shannon Brook Farm, the weight reduced to sixteen ounces after I had trimmed it (removing the ‘bark’, or skin covering the fat; cutting off all excess fat; ‘Frenching’, conservatively, and cleaning the ribs of all meat and fat; removing the rubbery tendon that runs along the spine; cutting out the chine altogether), then returned it to the refrigerator, from which it was later transferred to the kitchen counter and allowed to come to room temperature, cut into two 4-rib sections, the oven set to 475º (but reduced to 375º when the lamb was put into the oven), seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, one tablespoon of olive oil heated inside a small heavy, enameled cast iron pan until hot but not smoking, the lamb placed inside to brown, the arced, bone side down first, then all the other surfaces in turn, about one minute per side, removed and then all sides but the ends rolled in a shallow bowl which held a mixture of one fourth of a cup of yellow mustard seeds and 2 teaspoons of Sicilian fennel seeds that had been toasted together inside a large vintage seasoned cast iron skillet over medium heat until the seeds had become fragrant, when they had been immediately transferred to that bowl to cool slightly, the meat now returned to the skillet, from which most of the fat had been poured out, and transferred to the oven (now set at 375º0, roasted until a thermometer inserted into the center of the lamb registered 135º, or medium-rare, or roughly 20-24 minutes, removed from the oven and the pan, allowed to stand at least 10 minutes, each of the 2 sections cut into double chops and drizzled with Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• *one pound of so of Peter Wilcox potatoes (purple skin, golden flesh) from Tamarack Hollow Farm. scrubbed, skins left on, halved, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, a few fresh sage leaves from Citarella Market, and a dusting of dried myrtle (It. Mirto), leaves, from Buon Italia,  arranged, cut side down, on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at 375º for about 30 minutes, garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• five or 6 ounces of delicious young spinach plants from Migliorelli Farm, the bottom of their root ends removed, washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large, very heavy, antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which one cut up stem of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to soften, the spinach seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, finished on the plates drizzled with a little juice of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon and a bit more of the olive oil
• *the wine was an Italian (Sicily) red, Tenuta delle Terre Nere Etna Rosso 2016, from Garnet Wines 
• the music was the John Luther Adams string quartet, ‘Everything That Rises’

The Mediterranean, host to so many Alliums and Fennels: what a blessed world.

This breakfast was something of a hodgepodge. It was also more easily prepared than most described on this blog, because several of the extras were just sitting by, having already been prepared while I was assembling dinners in the last few days (to wit: the end of a batch of washed and dried lovage; sauté-softened spring garlic; and both the stems and fronds of some bronze fennel)

• the ingredients were 4 slices of Flying Pigs smoked bacon; Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’; Whole Foods Market house brand Portuguese olive oil; Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’, also from Whole Foods Market; chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge on the tomatoes; Americauna chicken eggs; sea salt; freshly-ground black pepper; spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm, partially-cooked earlier, tossed into the pan with the eggs; both finely-chopped bronze fennel stems and chopped fronds on the egg yolks; wild Sicilian fennel pollen from Buon Italia, also on the yolks; micro scallion fronds from Two guys as a garnish; toasted whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone Bakery

cook’s critique: I can’t be relied upon to deliver fried eggs with all of their yolks intact, and this time 2 of the 6 ran the moment I cracked them into the pan, so next time I may try an end run (look at me, using a sports idiom!), cracking them gently into a bowl and then slipping them into the pan)

• our Sunday music was the ECM New Series album, ‘In Paradisum: Music of Victoria and Palestrina’, performed by The Hilliard Ensemble

Sometimes these crab cake meals are virtually salads, but for me they’re actually easier (quicker at least) to put onto the table than the real thing, whether the salad is to serve as the whole meal, or only one of its elements.

And there’s almost as much room for improvising as there is in putting together a salad.

To top it off, they’re made by Delores, the wife of Phil, the fisherman. Yup.

Some form or another of this simple crab cake assemblage is a regular on our table, and we never tire of it.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), defrosted in the refrigerator earlier in the day, heated with a drizzle of olive oil inside a small heavy well-seasoned vintage cast iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa strewn over a bed of undressed mizuna from Alewife Farm, the salsa composed of 7 large-ish chopped Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, 8 or so young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm (the bulbs chopped, the greens sliced) that had first been wilted in olive oil inside a small pan, a quarter of a teaspoon of Safinter Pimenton de la Vera smoked picante paprika, and some chopped fresh oregano leaves from Stokes Farm, a bit more chopped oregano placed on top of the cakes, all of it garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• a mix of greens that included much more of the mizuna and some young red mustard, both from Alewife farm, washed in several changes of water, then wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 chopped spring garlic stems from John D. Madura Farm had been allowed to sweat, inside a large antique, high-sided copper pot, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, Matt Iaconis Lodi Albariño 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Pierre-Laurent Aimard playing Messiaen’s ‘Catalogue d’oiseaux’, or at least most of it

Last night I tweeted that I had found my go-to recipe for sea bass. I’ll elucidate.

I had arrived early (early for me) at the greenmarket that day, so there was a huge selection at the fish stand. Filtering out the various finfish and shellfish I’d cooked recently, which accounted for a good number, I narrowed our dinner choice down to 2 very fresh half-pound sea bass fillets. A few minutes later I found some terrific-looking greens, and a favorite crunchy multigrain baguette.

I thought I was all set, but once I arrived home I remembered that I had a lot of ramps, and a small bag of oyster mushrooms in the refrigerator.  I had been determined to prepare the fish in the most minimal way I could this time, and concentrate on producing a beautiful crispy skin, so I worked at coming up with a recipe that would fit the new program. What you see above was the product, and the tweet described my excitement with the result.

I’m only sorry I didn’t spend a little more time on the photograph above, because the meal tasted far more exciting than it looks.

I placed some radishes on the kitchen counter for the cook and his muse to nibble on while before the meal was served.

• *scrubbed radishes, really good ‘French breakfast radishes’ from Eckerton Hill Farm, together and a small dish of Maldon salt (from the River Blackwater estuary in Essex, England)

Otherwise the dinner was contained in one course.

• *three stems of spring garlic from from John D. Madura Farm, cut into one-inch lengths, sautéed until softened in a little Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil and Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ inside a large rectangular, enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, then removed and discarded, or maybe set aside for another day [NOTE: this first step, in which mature garlic could be substituted at other times of the year is definitely optional, especially if the cook is in a hurry], a little more oil and butter added, the flame raised to medium-high and two nearly-8-ounce sea bass fillets from Pura Vida Seafood Company, previously rinsed, dried with paper towels, and seasoned with sea salt, added to the pan and seared, skin side down first, for 3 to 4 minutes (the skin should be nicely golden and fairly crisp by then), turned over and cooked for another minute or so, removed and placed on 2 plates, kept warm, either in a warm oven or tented with aluminum foil, while 2 ounces of chopped yellow oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation were added to the skillet and sautéed until slightly undercooked, more oil added once again, if necessary, and a dozen or so trimmed and washed young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm tossed in (the bulbs chopped, the greens sliced), and sautéed for roughly one minute, the ramps and mushrooms divided between the 2 warm plates and a bass fillet placed on each ‘bed’, finished with a generous squeeze of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and garnished with chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, ending with lemon wedges placed on the side of the plates [NOTE: the mushrooms are an option, and their quantity can vary a bit, but they really enrich the flavors of both the fish and the ramps]

cooks critique: the bed of mushrooms and ramps should have been more visible; and while I eventually realized the bass had in fact been cooked perfectly, there was a scary moment after I first cut into one of the fillets to check its color and opacity (it’s no fun even contemplating having to return any seafood to a heat source once it’s arrived on the plate); finally, I described it as my “go-to recipe now for sea bass, and yet it clearly includes a few very specifically-seasonal ingredients, so my explanation is that all of those lend themselves to one or more substitutions (mature garlic for spring garlic; any mushrooms, even reconstituted ones, for the oyster mushrooms; almost anything green, herb or vegetable, for the ramps; and all kinds of herbs or micro greens would love to stand in for the bronze fennel

• slices, or more like wedges, of a terrific multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• one small head of a northern Italian tardivo radicchio from Flatiron Eataly [I felt guilty that it wasn’t local, but it looked so pretty on the shelf, I love that very special chicory, and I realized it meant I wouldn’t have to wait maybe 6 months for the wonderful Campo Rosso Farm‘s crop for my next hit], washed under cold running water, the moisture shaken off, cut in 4 sections lengthwise and a V-cut made most of the way through the root end, allowing that part to cook more rapidly, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged inside an enameled cast iron pan over medium-high heat, one of their cut sides down, each covered with a couple of rosemary sprigs from Stokes Farm, cooked for a few minutes then turned onto a second cut side and cooked for a few more, and finally turned and cooked briefly onto the third, before they were arranged on the plates [note: the tardivo can be served either hot or warm, so it’s an excellent low-stress accompaniment to meats or fish]
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the Berlin Classics album, ‘Vivaldi: La Venezia di Anna Maria’

Larger-size sea scallops don’t show up that often at the fish stands in the Union Square Greenmarket, so I couldn’t pass these up on Wednesday. I found my vegetable a few minutes later, and I already had some very ripe tomatoes at home, so everything was set but the fixing of it.

• *8 large sea scallops (a pound) from American Seafood Company, washed, drained and very thoroughly dried on paper towels (twice), generously seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend, arranged on 2 plates and garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• five large Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, the cut sides sprinkled with a small amount of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed that side down in a little olive oil over a low flame inside a heavy tin-lined copper skillet until they had softened, turned over, the heat cut off a minute later, divided onto the plates where they were garnished with some bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, some of it left whole, some chopped

• *a bit more than half of a 14 or 15-ounce bag of absolutely delicious young spinach plants from Migliorelli Farm, the bottom of their root ends removed, washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large, very heavy, antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 2  cut stems of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to soften, the spinach seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, finished on the plates drizzled with a little juice of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon and a bit more of the olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Minho) white, Quinta Do Regueiro Alvarinho 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the second disc of the album we had played yesterday,  Philip Corner’s 2014, ‘Satie Slowly’

(it looks like I have a new photographer)

 

There was a salume and a pasta. Their inspiration was shared. They were both very good.

• four ounces of thinly-sliced Recla Speck Alto Adige IGP, from Bolzano, via Eataly, drizzled with Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend
• the last leaves/stems remaining from an arugula plant from Stokes Farm, plus a little micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge, both drizzled with the same olive oil, and also a bit of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• slices of a crusty semolina baguette from Eataly

The main course was just about as minimal as the appetizer.

• twelve ounces of fresh ravioli rounds from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store, filled with ricotta, lemon zest, marjoram, nutmeg, and mascarpone, boiled carefully until barely cooked through in a large amount of well-salted water, drained, some of the pasta water retained, then slipped into a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had been melted, stirred over medium heat after some of the pasta water had been added, in order to emulsify the liquid, almost a tablespoon of pink peppercorns (Fr. baie rose) from Dean & DeLuca added before the pasta was arranged inside 2 low bowls where it was topped with the zest from half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and garnished with some chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2016, from Phillippe Wines
• the music was Philip Corner’s 2014 album, ‘Satie Slowly’

I spotted the mackerel first thing at the Greenmarket on Monday. Then I saw the yellow mushrooms, and, a few minutes later, some very beautiful bronze fennel; the meal was now completely assembled in my head.

But when I brought it to the table, although I had washed and chopped it, I forgot all about sprinkling the fennel on the fish and the mushrooms, which means the entrée was only partially realized, as planned, although it was still very delicious.

The fennel would also have added to the aesthetic, but it will probably make an appearance in the meal to be served the next day [update: it did]

 

• nine small Boston mackerel fillets (a total of 14 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed fairly gently in a couple tablespoons of butter inside a large, thick antique oval tin-lined copper pan, flesh side first, turned after about a minute and a half and the other side cooked for about the same length of time, removed and arranged on 2 plates when done, either covered, to keep warm, or, if it’s convenient to do so, placed inside a barely-warm oven, the heat kept low under the pan and another tablespoon of butter, or a little more, added, and when it had melted about 6 ounces of roughly-chopped yellow oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation tossed into the pan and sautéed, stirring, until lightly cooked, the mushrooms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and some ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, bulbs chopped, leaves sliced, plus about a tablespoon (or a little more) of lemon juice added to the pan, everything briefly stirred with a wooden spatula, the mushrooms and their juices spooned around the mackerel (which I had intended to finish with some chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm)
• the remainder of a bunch of broccoli rabe (aka rapini) from Migliorelli Farm (most of it had been included in a meal a few days before), wilted in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 small sliced spring garlic stems from Windfall Farms had been heated until slightly softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, divided onto the plates, sprinkled with a little bit of dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia and drizzled with more olive oil
• slices of a whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone Bakery
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Haydn’s last opera, ‘L’anima del filosofo, ossia Orfeo ed Euridice’ (The Soul of the Philosopher, or Orpheus and Euridice), written in London in 1791, but not performed until 1951, in Florence (when the lead role was sung by Maria Callas), the Academy of Ancient Music and the Academy of Ancient Music Chorus conducted by Christopher Hogwood

There were a number of intersections in this meal, and I thought about them only once the cooking was well underway. Although the word is inexact, and probably inapposite here, by ‘intersections’ I mean that there were some close relationships and repeats among its ingredients: There were 2 kinds of fresh greens, and 2 kinds of sweet potato. There were 3 members of the family brassicaceae (red mustard, radish greens, and micro red radish); each of the 3 main players, the duck, the potatoes, and the greens, was enhanced by a different allium (spring garlic for the mix of the 2 greens, dry garlic for the 2 potatoes, and micro scallion for the duck); 2 of these 3 parts were finished with a bit of both lemon and olive oil (the greens and the duck); and the cooking of a different combination began with some olive oil (the greens and the potatoes).

All of this is probably totally irrelevant to either the dinner’s appearance or its taste, but I like thinking about how it was somehow tied together in ways that were totally unplanned, or at least totally unconscious.

The most interesting intersection was that of Vincenzo Bellini and RIchard Wagner, in the music that we listened to during the meal. I had absolutely nothing to do with that one, as Barry was the DJ. Also, both composers have been dead for well over a hundred years.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing, first inside the refrigerator then on the counter, for about an hour altogether, before it was pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired), removed when medium rare (cut crosswise into 2 portions to check that the center was of the right doneness, which means definitely no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, a little Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market, some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and then garnished with micro scallion, also from Two Guys.
• four sweet potatoes, or just under a pound, half of them ‘Japanese’ from Lani’s Farm, the other half ‘Carolina Ruby’ from Samascott Orchards, left unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, cut as for short french fries, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, two large unpeeled cloves of garlic from John D. Madura Farm, and a pinch of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, than roasted in a 400º oven in my faithful, large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan for about 35 minutes, or until crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and a little chewy on the edges, garnished with micro red mustard from, once again, Two Guys from Woodbridge

• the last little bunch of red mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, together with the leaves of a bunch of French breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 garlic cloves from Foragers Market had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Austrian (Burgenland) red, St. Laurent vom Kiesel, Strehn 2013, from Astor Winesthe music was Bellini’s 1831 opera, ‘Norma’, Giovanni Antonini conducting the Orchestra La Scintilla and the International Chamber Vocalists, with Sumi Jo, John Osborn, Reinaldo Macias, Liliana Nikiteanu, Michele Pertusi, and Cecilia Bartoli; until I started writing this post I didn’t know much about Wagner’s attitude toward Bellini, or to this bel canto opera specifically, other than the fact that he had conducted it, while music director of the Riga Opera House, only 6 years after its unsuccessful London premiere (he was not yet 25); I had a vague recollection of reading once that he respected Bellini, but I still was astonished to occasionally hear bits throughout the opera that sounded like what the much younger German would write years later, and most remarkably in the Introduction to Act II (more on Wagner’s respect for Bellini here).

I could try to convince the reader that the generous serving on the plate above was for the two of us, but I won’t. Instead I’ll say, it just looks big.

And here it looks even bigger.

The meal was going to fall between a day with a fish entrée and one with meat, and normally I would put a pasta together a vegetarian pasta in such a situation. Instead, remembering that I had many more eggs in the refrigerator than usual, and some sympathetic vegetables to go with them, I decided to go with the eggs, and forgo our usual Sunday morning spread the next day.

I constructed still another variation of what had been merely an idea of baked eggs I had found several years ago, when Mark Bittman’s 2007 recipe, ‘Baked Egg With Prosciutto and Tomato‘ became the starting point for a number of delicious improvisations (it’s hard to go wrong with eggs, tomatoes, and most any allium, even when there’s no cured pork around, and almost anything else that can be added is, well, ‘gravy’).

But I was pretty excited about the sorrel this time.

• four medium leeks from Phillips Farms, trimmed, sliced lengthwise, and cooked in 3 tablespoons of butter inside a large heavy antique high-sided, tin-lined copper sauté pan until they were tender, after which about a cup of baby green sorrel from Lani’s Farm, mixed with some chopped parsley from Stokes Farm (the parsley added mostly to retain a green color, as the sorrel turns a dull drab olive green when heated), was added to the pot and stirred in, the leek mixture transferred to a buttered glazed ceramic oven dish and spread evenly around the bottom surface, 8 small Americauna eggs from Millport Dairy Farm cracked on top, and 6 large  Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, each cut into 3 slices, scattered around the eggs, a few ounces of heavy cream poured onto the surface of the eggs and the tomatoes, the dish seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a bit of crushed dried Sicilian peperoncino from Buon Italia, and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company, the pan set on a rack in the middle of an oven that had been heated to 400º until the eggs had set and the cream almost entirely absorbed (I think it was 25 minutes this time), served on 2 plates atop 4 thick slices of a polenta boule from She Wolf Bakery that had been toasted on a wonderful no-bread-is-ever-too-thick-for-it ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post], garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Suisun Valley and Sonoma) rosé, Evangelos Bagias California Rosé of Pinot Noir 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1711 opera, ‘Rinaldo’, his first for London, and the first opera in Italian to be written specifically for the London stage, René Jacobs conducting the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra [note: it was performed regularly in London for 6 years, and once again in 1731, in a revised version, but there were no more performances for over 200 years; an indifference visited on most every opera of the time, suggesting that 18th-century opera audiences were once more interested in new music than they are today]