I couldn’t get to Union Square on Wednesday because I had to stay home waiting for the plumbers (a double indignity).

Once I was free (and hundreds of dollars lighter), it was too late to expect to find anything at the Greenmarket fish stall, so I headed down the street toward Eataly Flatiron.  Once there I checked around and texted Barry, asking for his preference among 4 of my suggestions, “Luca Donofrio’s fresh ravioli di zucca, a small New York strip steak, chicken thighs, or a duck breast.  He didn’t reply immediately, but just as I had narrowed down my own preferences and had come up with chicken, I saw on my phone screen that he had suggested the same.

Chicken it was, and very good chicken, and it turned out to be a happy choice, as it always is.

The preparation was inspired by a great, and quite simple Marc Bitttman recipe, very open to adjustments and elaboration.

And yes, I can now confirm that you can successfully substitute a rosé for a white as a cooking wine.

I mostly succeeded in restraining myself from going overboard with the ingredients this time, but I couldn’t resist including one tiny, mostly heatless red chili pepper and one extremely small very hot ur-pepper in the mix that produced the sauce, if only as an experiment.

• two 8-ounce fresh New York State chicken thighs, from Cascun Farms, purchased at Eataly Flatiron, the loose skin of one pinned with 3 toothpicks, seasoned on both sides with local P.E. & D.D. Seafood sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, browned well in two tablespoons or so of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ inside a medium oval enameled high-sided cast iron pot, then covered with aluminum foil (it doesn’t have to be a tight seal at all, and it definitely wasn’t) and cooked over medium-low heat, turning occasionally, until the internal temperature is 155-165 degrees, or the juices run clear, which was roughly 15 minutes, transferred to a small oval platter and covered with the foil to keep warm while 3 minced very small round shallots from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, one small chopped red shishito pepper from Alewife Farm, and only one finely chopped small-pea-size yellow Brazil wax pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm were stirred in and allowed to soften before about a third of a cup of rosé wine (an Oregon Willamette Valley rosé, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines] was added to the pot and the heat raised to medium high, until the liquid reduced quite a bit, or until it was a of the consistency of a sauce, a generous amount of chopped pericón (Mexican tarragon) from Quarton Farm was added and stirred in before it was transferred to a glass sauce boat, from which some of it was poured over the chicken, now arranged on plates
• three different kinds of potato (because I didn’t have enough of any one kind), ‘Chieftain’ potatoes from Keith’s Farm,’Pinto’ potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, and ‘Purple Peruvian’ potatoes, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, scrubbed, and boiled unpeeled in generously-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, rolled in a little butter, seasoned with salt and pepper and arranged on the plates garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge 
• one medium head of radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sliced broadly and sautéed until barely wilted inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with a little olive oil in which one sliced medium tropea onion from Alewife Farm had been allowed to soften, seasoned with salt and black pepper, finished with a splash of white balsamic vinegar and arranged on the plates, with a little more added at the table later, to offset the unusual bitterness of the chicory
• the wine was a French (Loire/Cheverny/Cour-Cheverny) red, Domaine de Montcy Cheverny Rouge 2016, probably from Philippe Wines
• the music was the album, ‘L’homme de genie’, which is Volume 5 from the project, ‘Haydn 2032’, with 3 Haydn symphonies and one by Joseph Martin Kraus, all performed by Giovanni Antonini conducting the Basel Chamber Orchestra

This will be the very last appearance here of the three ‘heads’ of puntarelle that I purchased last Wednesday exactly one week ago as I write this, and which I eventually included in 4 nights of meals (9 servings) before exhausting its wonderful bounty with 2 different recipes.

A great vegetable.

• two or three roughly chopped cloves of ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm heated inside a large antique copper pot in a few tablespoons of olive oil until softened and fragrant, seasoned with local sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, a couple of rinsed, dried, and filleted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, and a bit of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero, also from Buon Italia, followed by the addition of roughly 9 ounces of the external leaves of several heads of puntarelle from Tamarack Hollow Farm, trimmed of any wilted portions at the bottom, and washed very well in several changes of water (the base of this plant often has sand), parboiled inside a tall stainless steel pot in a large amount of well salted water until just tender, removed with a broad vintage slotted spoon, drained, and cut up very roughly, stirred into and mixed well with the contents of the pot with the puntarelle, then adding 9 ounces of Afeltra penne rigate, cooked until barely al dente in the same water in which the greens had been parboiled, along with almost a full cup of the pasta-vegetable water, mixed well over high heat, allowing the pasta to absorb the flavors and the liquid to have emulsified, when the puntarelle will have partially ‘melted’ into a kind of sauce for the pasta
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) rosé, Chris Baker Willamette Valley Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was an album of Sinfonie Concertanti by Mozart, Holxbauer, and Pleyel, performed by the Kammerorchester Basel 

Dinner was a cinch.

I really went pretty basic with the scallops this time, the tomato was almost as minimal, and the puntarelle have almost become something I could do in my sleep.

But I did manage to include a tiny (edible) bouquet on the plate (a last minute inspiration).

• eleven sea scallops (14 ounces total) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, rinsed, dried very thoroughly with paper towels then placed in a paper plate to prevent condensation, seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, grilled briefly (90 seconds on each side) in a very hot full size square enameled cast iron pan, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic California lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, arranged on the plates with a sprinkling of scissored bronze fennel, flowers and buds, from Rise & Root Farm
• slices of a baguette from She Wolf Bakery in the Union Square Greenmarket
• one small heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, sprinkled on the cut side with sea salt and black pepper, scattered with chopped leaves of pericón (Mexican tarragon) from Quarton Farm, heated gently on bot sides inside a small copper skillet, arranged on the plates with tiny sprigs of pericón flowers planted on top
• the only real central sections that remained from the puntarelle I had bought last week, and last included in a meal on Friday, prepared from scratch as described in this post, and tossed with a freshly assembled anchovy sauce (they were still delicious)
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Miriam Alexandra California Chenin Blanc 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was Rossini’s beautiful 1821-1822 melodramma giocoso (opera semiseria) ‘Matilde di Shabran’, Riccardo Frizza conducting the Orquesta Sinfonica di Galicia, with Annick Massis and the incredibly beautiful voice of Juan Diego Florez

I hadn’t expected to make it to either of my Greenmarket choices on Saturday, but when our plans changed, and I realized I’d be able to cook dinner that night, I rushed down the block to one of my favorite fishmongers.

When I saw the mussels, I couldn’t see anything else in the case.

• a little more than two pounds of wild mussels (and I was told they had not grown on ropes, or the equivalent), purchased from American Seafood Company early that afternoon in the 23rd Street Market at Saturday’s Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, one block away from us, scrubbed and de-bearded where necessary, combined in a large heavy enameled pot (a larger round Le Creuset Doufeu ‘dutch oven’ I’ve had for almost 50 years) with over two cups of halved red cherry tomatoes (one pint basket) from Alex’s Tomato Farm, a little more than half a cup of a good white wine, Miriam Alexandra California Chenin Blanc 2018, a few tablespoons of a chopped ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm, 4 tablespoons Vermont Creamery Butter, about a quarter of a teaspoon of crushed Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, and a few tablespoons of some coarsely-chopped lovage from Quarton Farm, the pot then covered and its contents simply steamed over high heat for a few minutes, arranged in shallow bowls, along with the wonderful pot liquor, and sprinkled with a little more lovage
• one red fife baguette(Red Fife whole wheat flour, starter, and salt) from Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse
• the wine was a French (Loire) rosé, Patrice Grasset Loire Valley Rosé of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was an extremely early opera (1608) by Marco Da Gagliano, ‘La Dafne’, from the Ensemble Vocale Dello Studio Di Music Antica Antonio Il Verso

The eggs themselves were minimal, but it got a little busy with the tomato-salad-salumi-mix.

Also, it was both breakfast and lunch, so I figured adding a second cured meat wasn’t totally out of order (actually the few slices of a small saucisson were there because there was so little of it, and because I couldn’t imagine how else I would use it), but once again there was no cantaloupe, no strawberries, no pineapple, watermelon, avocado, or maraschino cherries.

• what there was, were 4 slices of thick pastured pigs bacon, and 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens, both from the Amish family-run Millport Dairy Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, the eggs seasoned with a local Long Island sea salt (from P.E. & D.D. Seafood), freshly ground black pepper, finished sprinkled with bronze fennel flowers and buds from Rise & Root Farm, scissored from their stems; there was one ripe green heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, seasoned with salt, pepper, a pinch of smoked salt from Spices and Tease in the Chelsea Market, and sprinkled with torn spearmint leaves, the gift of a friend, sautéed in a little olive oil, turning once, arranged on the plates on top of a nest of beautiful washed and dried leaves of a small head of Roxy purple leaf lettuce from Lucky Dog Organic Farm that had already been dressed with a little salt, pepper, and a few drops of very good olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with chopped lovage from Quarton Farm; there was a very small amount of finely sliced tropea (sweet Italian red) onion from Alewife Farm and part of a finely sliced fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, heated together inside an antique enameled cast iron porringer in a little olive oil, placed on and around the tomato and the greens, and a little more than a dozen thin slices of a saucisson (‘French style salami’, on the label) crafted by Jacüterie with pasture raised pork raised by Walnut Hill Farm arranged around the tomato; Vermont Creamery butter was available to accompany slices of a bread baked that morning (not toasted), Pain d’Avignon 7 grain bread (rustic, whole wheat, honey, sesame- sunflower-flax seed, oats) from Foragers Market
• the music was a number of symphonies by a Bohemian composer working in Vienna during the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Leopold Koželuch, performed by the Czech Chamber Philharmonic Pardubice, Marec Štilec conducting

Paul wanted me to go home with the sea robin, which was actually less than half the price of the dolphin he was selling.

Speaking as my fishmonger, he said that by cooking and then writing about it on this food blog I might be able to expand the market for a very under-appreciated fish, reminding me that it was extremely sustainable (almost certainly related to its unpopularity), and pointing out that while we stood there in the Greenmarket that afternoon, all over the world there were enormous demonstrations about climate change, protests which were not unrelated to the disappearance of species.

I totally respect a fish monger who thinks in terms that not only do not favor his own business but manage to shame his customers, and I’ve prepared more than my share of sea robin (a great tasting fish, by the way), but on Friday I went with the dolphin, promising Paul it would be different next time.

Just then, a guy came up to the stand asked him about a fish he didn’t have that day, and the 3-way, eventually 4-way, conversation moved on to our experiences catching sea robin with hook and line (always inadvertently), and lots of laughter, especially over the surprise of their creepy ‘legs’ and ‘wings’.

I love the Greenmarket.

• a one pound skinned fillet of local dolphin, or ‘dolphinfish’, from Pura Vida Seafood, a species elsewhere known as orata, or dorade, but in the US commonly referred to by a Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’, (which I try to resist), because Americans, seduced by popular media, would otherwise think of Flipper, halved at home, dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic California lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of what I think is chopped za’atar from Jayne of TransGenerational Farm (I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t now for certain that it was that herb; it may have been an oregano or marjoram, since they all look similar and I had bought all 3 herbs within days of each other; only one of them remains), sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 2 minutes, the former skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for another 2 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a tin-lined copper universal lid for a minute or two, after which some short slices of baby French leek from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm were introduced and very briefly sautéed with the fish before the leek, the habanada, and the fish were arranged on the plates, and the now rich, savory pan juices poured on top, some micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge scattered over all
• two heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced horizontally, the cut sides seasoned with salt and pepper and sprinkled with torn leaves of spearmint, the gift of a friend
• some of the puntarelle prepared for a meal 2 days earlier but then set aside because including it would have made the portions too large, tossed now with a freshly assembled anchovy sauce
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson ROX Sonoma Coast Chardonnay 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was an album of various ‘Concerti Grossi’ by Francesco Geminiani’s, ‘Quinta Essentia’, performed by Concerto Köln

He was visiting New York from London so we were delighted to be able to invite him to dinner last night. Until then, while we had only known John through Twitter, we had come to feel of him as a friend.

On occasions like this I usually try to serve something I can prepare almost entirely ahead of time, but last night I relied on the fact that the tuna steaks I’d chosen as the entrée would be so simple and quick that it’d be almost the same thing. There would probably be some particularly good greens (there were so many kinds in the Greenmarket that day, and I saw and tasted some great September broccoli rabe) or some other vegetable that could be cooked in advance, and I had decided I could avoid the complications a first course would present by accompanying the tuna with a second vegetable.

Well, then I spotted the puntarelle, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. While the dish I had in mind, repeating my Puntarelle alla Romana, can mostly be done ahead of time, it needs a number of processes, and a certain amount of space, and it really should be assembled at the last moment. It also seemed to rule out including anything else on the plate, which meant there would now be 2 courses.

I wanted to include in the meal some very sweet tiny cherry tomatoes that had been camping out on the windowsill for a while, because they were now really at their peak, and because they were beautiful. The problem was that there weren’t really that many of them, and they’d be difficult to arrange on the plates in a way they could easily be picked up, so I brought 3 modest size zucchini home from the market, 2 yellow, one green, with the idea of scattering tomato halves among thin slices of summer squash near the end of the time they’d both spend on a large cast iron grill pan, tossing everything with some torn peppermint leaves when they were done, but then I noticed our guest was expected in a short while and there wouldn’t be time.

Now I had to reinvent the appetizer, but I hadn’t really come up with concept until I had already begun assembling it, so there was some stress involved in the process while at the same time I was trying to engage in the conversation; the result may have had something of an improvisational aspect to it, but it was delicious. Thank goodness for the young trailblazers of the new charcuterie [Walnut Hill Farm in this particular case], and the welcome the Union Square Greenmarket/GrowNYC people have been giving them.

It was a great evening on every count, the credit for which goes to the good Barry and John.

We began with a sparkling rosé while we nibbled on breadsticks and taralli.

• the wine was a Portuguese (Biera) rosé, Beira Extra Brut Rosé “3B,” Filipa Pato 2017, from Astor Wines

The first course:

• half of a pint of ‘Super sweet 100’ cherry tomatoes from Keith’s Farm, halved, mixed with a bit of finely sliced tropea (sweet Italian red) onion from Alewife Farm, sea salt, black pepper, a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, and a bit of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, arrange on a small mound of red watercress from Dave’s Max Creek Hatchery

• slices from a loaf of ‘Table Bread’, described as half organic bread flour, half fresh milled whole grain (wheat, spelt, rye, malted barley), water, salt, from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co.
• rich Vermont Creamery butter from Chelsea Whole Foods [unfortunately they don’t carry the unsalted version – yet, I hope I can add here], for speading on the bead
• most of a 4-ounce package of Saucisson (‘French style salami’) crafted by Jacüterie with pasture raised pork raised by Walnut Hill Farm, sliced
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) white, San Felice Vermentino Toscana 2017, from Philippe Wines

The main course.

• three thick 10 or 11-ounce yellowfin tuna steaks from American Seafood Company [much larger than I normally select, but the problem was getting 3 that looked similar, and were close to the same size], rinsed, dried, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, brushed or ‘paved’ with almost 2 tablespoons of a mix of a generous amount of incredibly wonderful dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, both first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the tuna pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for little more than a minute or so on each side, finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic California lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, a scattering of scissored bronze fennel buds and flowers from Rise & Root Farm, and  a drizzle of Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil

• two ‘heads’ of Puntarelle [cicoria di catalogna], an Italian chicory (about 32 ounces), from Tamarack Hill Farm, the outer straight leaves removed for another time, the remainder cooked pretty much as described on this site; I used ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic from Alewife Farm, local sea salt, 4 or 5 rinsed and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies from Buon Italia, a little chopped fresh habanada pepper, one and a half tablespoons or more of Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia (a mix of Langhe white wines), 3 tablespoons or more of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and Whole Foods Market house whole pepper
• the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2018, from Astor Wines

The dessert.

• instead of cheese, fruit, or a sweet, the dessert was a selection of very good artisanal liquors, 2 clear, ALB, a 100% neutral corn spirits vodka from Albany; St. George Terroir Gin, “a profoundly aromatic gin with a real sense of place”, from Alameda, California; and one Chicago bourbon, with millet instead of rye or wheat as the secondary component of the mash bill, Koval Single Barrel Bourbon Whiskey
• raw almonds from Chelsea Whole Foods Market

 

 

 

• the music throughout the meal was from a Spotify playlist Barry had put together

 

 

 

puntarelle 34 ounces,  > 26, the even less

Words fail me here; I can only say it was absolutely delicious, all of it, but at least the colors can speak for themselves.

Okay, ‘juicy’. Juicy is easy to say.

• after the oven had been heated to 400º, exactly one pound of very fresh, cleaned, quite small and very tender baby squid from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, bodies and tentacles (at least some of the latter were from grownup cephalopods claimed by earlier customers, maybe for stuffing the bodies), were rinsed, then very carefully dried, very quickly arranged inside two large rectangular enameled cast iron pans (these little ones had a large footprint, so I needed more than one) but only after a little olive oil that had been brushed on the pan surfaces, heated until they had become quite hot, had itself become hot, the squid then immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, some crushed peperoncino di Calabria from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, and a pinch of the powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper I had purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017 (still awesome), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by 3 full tablespoons of juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market California lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pans placed inside the hot oven and the squid roasted for just 3 minutes, because they were smaller than the usual, which I cook for 4), by which time their bodies had ballooned somewhat, removed and arranged on 2 plates and ladled with the cooking juices from a footed glass sauce boat and sprinkled with scissored bronze fennel blossoms and buds, from Rise & Root Farm
• we used a bit of a powerful Brazil wax pepper-infused olive oil as a condiment (the fresh pepper had come from Eckerton Hill Farm
• a handful of plain, unseasoned perky and peppery red watercress from Dave’s Max Creek Hatchery in the Greenmarket

• five medium (they’re a small breed), Turkish eggplants, 17 ounces total, from Norwich Meadows Farm, each cut horizontally into 4 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, one large chopped ‘Chesnok Red’ garlic clove from Alewife Farm, sea salt, and black pepper, pan-grilled on an enameled cast iron ribbed pan over 2 burners above a brisk flame, turning once or twice, then tossed inside a bowl with some torn peppermint leaves from Lani’s Farm and arranged on the plates, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, garnished with more mint
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia/Sassari) white, Vigne Surau Vermentino di Gallura DOCG 2018, from Philippe Wines
• the music was the 2009 surrealistic chamber opera, ‘Döbeln’, by the Finnish composer Sebastian Fagerlund (we’re now both fans), performed by the Kokkola Opera Festival Orchestra, conducted by Sakari Oramo

Well, that headline was really unnecessary, but while the meal wasn’t about color, it wasn’t diminished by its richness (which, I have to admit, wasn’t entirely serendipitous).

‘Leftover Kasslerbraten‘. The unembellished words don’t begin to describe the awesomeness.

We had begun feasting on this nearly 7-pound roast the first day of this year. We enjoyed its third, and, sadly, its final act, with last Sunday’s dinner.  The second act had been presented shortly after the first, and fully a pound of the roast had remained even after that.  I carefully wrapped that piece, and it rested inside the freezer until this weekend.

To the very end, a superb smoked rib.

• two ribs from a large smoked pork roast which we had first enjoyed with friends on New Years Day 2019, heated for a few minutes in a little butter inside a medium antique copper pot on top of some sliced baby French leek from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and some chopped baby celery from Norwich Meadows Farm, the chops covered, turned once, and arranged on the plates, covered with the little bit of the juice they had produced, together with the slightly carbonized pieces of leek and celery, a bit of horseradish jelly from Berkshire Berries spread on  top, scattered with some chopped celery leaves

• sixteen ounces of ‘Purple Peruvian’ potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed and scrubbed, but unpeeled, boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm large vintage Pyrex glass pot, then halved, rolled in a little butter, seasoned with local P.E. & D.D. Seafood salt and freshly ground black pepper, garnished with scissored bronze fennel buds and flowers from Rise & Root Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket

• thirteen and a half ounces of very sweet flat green pole beans (I’ve always called them ‘Romano beans’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, briefly parboiled inside a treasured large stainless steel pot purchased from Peter Hoffman in his Savoy Restaurant, after it had closed, quickly drained, then dried inside the same pot while beans and pot were still warm, set aside in a bowl, reheated in a cast iron pan with a little olive oil while the Kassler was being warmed, seasoned with salt and pepper, finished on the plates scattered with micro lemon balm from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was actually a cider, a wonderful, very dry New York (Hudson Valley) exemplar, Brooklyn Cider House Bone Dry cider, from the makers’ stand in the Union Square Greenmarket (it’s pretty awesome, and we’re definitely going stock up some more)
• the music was an album which included Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto, Trio, and Romances, in performances of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra conducted by Joseph Silverstein, with the soloists Joseph Silverstein (Violin), Veronica Jochum (Piano), and Colin Carr (Cello)

I wanted to minimize the number of condiments and constituents I’d put into this meal, so I decided I’d try to get most of them together in small cups, to be placed on the table where we could each reach for them as we wanted. It only occurred to me after I had started to write this post that basically what I had done was to assemble a miniature cooked salsa.

In the picture above, taken before we had begun to eat, only a bit of the salsa had made it out of the little pot to the top of the plate, but the rest soon followed.

The second image includes most of the elements, other than the eggs, bacon, and toast, that went into the meal, although the fresh bronze fennel buds and flowers didn’t make the cut that afternoon.

• the meal included four slices of thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm’s pastured pigs, fried over low heat inside a large enameled cast iron skillet, turning occasionally, removed while they were still juicy, before they had become crisp, set aside on paper toweling to drain, a tablespoon or so of butter added and the heat under the pan increased to medium before 6 fresh eggs, from free-range chickens, and also from Millport Dairy Farm, were cracked into the skillet, fried until their whites had barely set, seasoned with local P.E. & D.D. Seafood salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market), but nothing else until they got to the table, although they were garnished with pungent micro lemon balm from Two Guys from Woodbridge; on the table I included a Brazil yellow pepper-infused olive oil and 2 small ramekins of a salsa just assembled with 2 small baby French leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm and one very small dark green celery stalk from Norwich Meadows farm, one fresh habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm and one red shishito pepper from Alewife Farm, all of the vegetables finely chopped and briefly sautéed in olive oil, with some of the chopped celery leaves tossed in; the toast was made from slices of a levain from Bread Alone, like virtually everything else on the table, from the Union Square Greenmarket
• the music was Johann Mattheson’s 1723 oratorial, ‘Der liebreiche und geduldige David’ (The Loving and Patient David), performed by the Kölner Akademie and the Cologne Academy Choir, conducted by Michael Alexander Wilens; this is from this interesting diplomat, composer, and music theorist’s Wikipedia entry: “All of his music, except for one opera, one oratorio, and a few collections of instrumental music, went missing after World War II, but was given back to Hamburg from Yerevan, Armenia, in 1998. This includes four operas and most of the oratorios. The manuscripts are now located at the Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg, the former Hamburg Stadtbibliothek (City Library).”