I didn’t buy it because it was shark, but because it looked so incredibly good in the fishmonger’s bucket, 2 weeks in a row. last week I chose triggerfish instead, because it is likely to appear in the market more rarely. This time it was the mako shark’s turn.

I have nothing against sharks; I like them, well, at least in the right environment, one of which I will now avow, is the dinner table.

I neglected to photograph the shark before I cooked it, but think of a swordfish steak, looking especially moist, and, this one at least, the color of a pale rosé wine.

The fish was extraordinarily fresh: At Rick Lofstad‘s Pura Vida Fisheries stall on Friday Lea Mansour showed me this short video, taken the day before, of the shark on the deck of their boat, the Olivia Jane, out of Hampton Bays, Shinnecock, only moments after it was caught. The deck is covered in squid, which appears to be the catch intended that day.

“Do you wanna try and sell this thing?”

The thing was absolutely delicious.

I used a recipe I have occasionally used with swordfish, and it worked beautifully, allowing the slightly sweet, moderately-strong taste of the shark to shine.

The preparation of the other 2 elements of this meal was already pretty familiar territory on this blog. As with the recipe for the fish, there were only slight adjustments in the herbs used this time.

• one 13-ounce (1 1/4-inch thick) mako shark steak from Pura Vida Seafood, rubbed with a mixture of fresh herbs (here lovage and dill from Keith’s Farm; tarragon, rosemary, savory, and sage from Stokes Farm; spearmint from Ryder Farm; parsley from Phillips Farm), all from various Greenmarket farmers) chopped together with sea salt, some freshly-ground black pepper, juicy garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, and lemon zest, and a bit of olive oil added to moisten the herb mix, most of which was spread onto the surface of the fish before it was pan-grilled, basted throughout the cooking process with some of the reserved rub mixture, removed while still not quite fully cooked in the center, divided onto 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of olive oil, and served with lemon quarters
• one firm but ripe non-heirloom tomato (I’ve forgotten the proper name) from Down Home Acres, halved, placed face-down on a plate spread with salt and pepper, removed, dried slightly with a section of paper towel, placed on the same grill pan as the shark, halfway through its cooking, turning once, removed, and finished on the plates with a bit of olive oil, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, sprinkled with dill flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• two medium Japanese eggplants from Berried Treasures Farm, split lengthwise, scored with a very sharp knife, brushed with a mixture of oil, finely-chopped garlic from Keith’s Farm, and chopped fresh oregano from Stokes Farm, seasoned with salt and pepper, pan-grilled for a few minutes, turning once, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with micro purple basil from Two Guys from Woodbridge [the basic recipe, absent the topping, is here]
• the wine was an Italian (sicily) rosé, Fuori Strada Off Road Rosato 2015, with Nero d’Avola grapes, from Bottlerocket Wine

There was dessert.

• slices from a Lambkin melon, aka Santa Claus melon, and sometimes known as Christmas melon or piel de sapo

• the music throughout the meal was topical, Vivaldi’s 1740 opera, ‘L’olimpiade’, Rinaldo Alessandrini directing the Concerto Italiano

Ten minutes before I started this meal, although I knew it would involve pasta, I still had no idea in which form, or what the sauce would be. I began assembling it in my head by thinking of all the tomatoes I had on the window sill, plus the small sweet peppers and cucumbers in the crisper, and I weighed the hypothetical ‘expiration dates’ of each vegetable. In the end, because I actually had 2 kinds of cucumbers (one the gift of a farmer friend), and because I decided the peppers and tomatoes could all hold on a little longer, cucumis sativus won the toss.

 

Then I almost included a few of the little peppers, or one tomato or more (heirloom or cherry), but went the more minimal route, trusting in the drawing power of a good cucumber combined with a few good herbs and spices.

Yes, the pasta dish was entirely improvised.

• two sliced garlic cloves from Norwich Meadows Farm sautéed in a large, enameled cast iron pan in a little olive oil until beginning to become pungent, a tablespoon or so of dried fennel added, stirred, allowed to heat for a minute, 2 sliced red scallions from Hawthorne Valley introduced and stirred, sautéed until they had softened, some crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia added and also stirred in, 2 handfuls of half inch-slices of small Persian cucumbers, already sautéed in another pan (large, black cast iron) until thy had begun to brown, tossed in and mixed with the other ingredients in the large pan, 9 ounces of a Rigatoni (made with an organic hard durum whole wheat, ‘Senatore Cappelli’) from Foragers Market which had been cooked al dente, tossed in and stirred, some chopped dill from Keith’s Farm tossed in, everything mixed and divided into 2 bowls (there was more than enough for a second helping for each of us), tossed with homemade sautéed breadcrumbs which had been ground up from the heels of a variety of great breads, sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette) white, Kings Ridge Pinot Gris 2014

There was a dessert, also improvised, but requiring almost no decisions.

 

• half of a small Snow Leopard melon (a small honeydew variety, with firmer flesh) from Norwich Meadows Farm, along with halved black California figs from Whole Foods

 

• the music throughout the meal was sinfonias by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach (and one overture by his father, Johann Sebastian Bach, performed by Hartmut Haenchen  conducting the C.P.E. Bach Chamber Orchestra

I spotted the largest scallops I’d seen in a long time at the Greenmarket on Wednesday, so I jumped on them. Because I had more time to prepare dinner that evening than I normally allow myself, I decided I could go to one of my favorite scallop recipes. It’s only a little more complicated than the very simple one I use most of the time, but it does involve a few minutes of busy work.

I found the basic recipe years ago, in Mark Bittman’s 1994 book, ‘Fish: The Complete Guide to Buying and Cooking‘, where he describes it as “..among the most impressive appetizers I know” (I actually prepared them as an appetizer only this one time). Today there’s also a link on line, a 2012 piece he did for the New York Times, and it includes a 4-minute video, if that helps.

Bittman suggest that alternative fish for the recipe would include monkfish, cut into medallions, thick swordfish or tuna steaks, or even large shrimp, with cooking times adjusted accordingly.

• 11 sea scallops (.76 lbs) from Blue Moon Fish, rinsed, dried, slit almost all of the way through horizontally, where they were stuffed with a mixture of basil from Keith’s Farm, one medium-size clove of garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, salt, and pepper, all chopped together very finely before enough olive oil to form a paste was added, the stuffed scallops then rolled around on a plate with a little more olive oil and pan grilled about 2 or 3 minutes on each side, removed to plates, lemon juice and olive oil drizzled over the top
• ten very ripe, very sweet cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm (‘the best cherry tomatoes‘), washed, dried, halved, heated for a minute in a small, low-sided, ancient Pyrex bluish-glass pan, seasoned with salt and pepper, added to the plates with the scallops
• haricots verts from Berried Treasures Farm, left whole, blanched, drained and dried in the pan over heat, shaking, then set aside until just grilling the scallops, when they were reheated in oil, finished with salt, pepper, and fennel flowers from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Éric Chevalier Clos de la Butte Muscadet-Côtes de Grandlieu 2014

There was fruit for dessert

• half of a small Snow Leopard melon (a small honeydew variety, with firmer flesh) from Norwich Meadows Farm, along with a few late-season sweet cherries from Red Jacket Orchards

• the music throughout the meal was Q2, streaming

I had quite a bit of mozzarella left from the ball I had used in a meal 2 days before, so I decided the best idea for using it, if I didn’t want to repeat the insalata caprese, would probably be including it in a summery pasta.

Barry went on line to look for suggestions, and he found 2 recipes which looked very good; I chose the one which did not require letting snipped basil leaves sit around all day in a bowl with olive oil before proceeding further with the assembly of the dish.  I halved the amounts and, because I had no basil, specified in the recipe, replaced it with 3 other herbs.

It was fabulous.

• one garlic clove from Norwich Meadows Farm, cut in half, the edges rubbed all over the inside of an old ceramic kitchen bowl, then discarded (the garlic), 2 heirloom and 2 red banana tomatoes, chopped, all from Norwich Meadows Farm, combined in the bowl with 6 or 7 ounces of fresh hand-rolled mozzarella from Valley Shepherd Creamery, cut into 1/2″ pieces, plus 1/4 of a cup olive oil, and about a third of a cup of a mix of chopped herbs (lovage from Keith’s Farm, spearmint from Ryder Farm, and savory from Stokes Farm), salt, and pepper, allowed to sit for about 15 minutes to let the flavors meld, after which 8 ounces of Rigatoni (an organic hard durum whole wheat, ‘Senatore Cappelli’, from Foragers Market), cooked al dente, was tossed into the bowl, combined with the sauce, divided into 2 bowls, and sprinkled with purple radish micro greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, La Cala Vermentino di Sardegna 2014
• the music was mid-eighteenth-century harpsichord music composed by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, performed by  Christophe Rousset

The swordfish steak was smaller than I would have liked, but the alternatives weighed far more than a pound.  More problematic was the pronounced wedge shape of the piece, but I managed to ‘square’ it with the judicious placement of 2 toothpicks.

I probably should have cut it crosswise rather than lengthwise for serving, but I was thinking about keeping each piece integral, and not thinking about the fact that one of them would end up with the full portion of the skin.

Whatever their size or shape, the little steak portions ended up looking pretty good on the plates, were cooked à point, and quite delicious. Respecting both their modest portion and high quality, we lingered, with a great wine from the Canary Islands.

The vineyards of the Lanzarote DO wine region

 

• one 10-ounce swordfish steak from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, in the Union Square Greenmarket, marinated for about half hour in a mixture of olive oil, a very small amount of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, peperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia, fresh oregano buds from Stokes Farm, torn spearmint from Ryder Farm, and the white sections of 2 finely-sliced tiny French leeks from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, drained well and covered with a coating of dried homemade bread crumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 4 to 5 minutes on each side, removed, seasoned with a little sea salt, sprinkled with a little organic lemon juice from Whole Foods, a pinch of wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, some chopped green leaves from the French leeks, finely sliced and heated in a small sauce pan with a little olive oil until they had softened and become more mild, sprinkled with chopped dill from Keith’s Farm
• Swiss chard from Ryder Farm, sautéed in olive oil in which 5 small bruised garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had first been heated, finished with a squeeze of juice from an organic lemon, some crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, and a drizzle of lemon and a drizzle of olive oil
• one green heirloom tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm, cut into fork-size pieces, dressed with a campania olive oil (Syrenum D.O.P. Peninsula Sorrentina), Maldon salt, freshly-ground pepper, and chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, served in small side dishes
• slices of a ‘Compagne’ (traditional sourdough) from Bien Cuit Bakery, via Foragers Market
• the wine was a Spanish (Lanzarote, in the Canary Islands) rosé, Los Bermejos Listán Rosado 2015, from Appalachian Wines
• the music was the remainder of the opera from the night before, Vivaldi’s 1714 opera, ‘Orlando Finto Pazzo’, Alessandro De Marchi directing the Academia Montis Regalis and the Turin Teatro Regio Chorus

[image of the volcanic stone-walled vinyards from the Los Bermejos site]

Batali’s good.

To begin, the first course, insalata Caprese is a classic, certainly not my own creation, and, as it turned out, neither was the spaghetti.

I really didn’t need a published recipe just to assemble a pasta dish with some very ripe Sun Gold tomatoes and a few odds and ends I had lying around the kitchen, or so I thought.

But I decided to look on line for something to get me jump-started. I found a deceivingly-simple Mario Batali invention which not only included ingredients I already had but in the amounts I had. I was only worried that it would be too predictable.

Actually, the result was sublime, with flavors far more complex than I would have thought possible with a bit of pasta, tomato, cheese, a bit of herb, and some breadcrumbs.

Yeah, cheese and breadcrumbs.

I made one substitution: Since the first course was clearly going to include a generous amount of basil, I used some mixed herbs (including a little basil) instead of basil alone, which the recipe suggested.

• a caprese salad, assembled with one brilliant red ripe heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, fresh hand-rolled mozzarella from Valley Shepherd Creamery, basil leaves from Keith’s Farm, Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, and a Campania olive oil, D.O.P. Penisola Sorrentina ‘Syrenum’
• slices of a ‘Compagne’ (traditional sourdough) from Bien Cuit Bakery via Foragers Market

 

• the recipe for the pasta is here, but the ingredients I used last night were sun gold tomatoes from Stokes Farm; garlic from Alewife Farm; dried Itria-Sirissi chili (peperoncino di Sardegna intero) from Buon Italia; and Afeltra spaghetti alla chitarra, from Eataly; a chopped herb mix of summer savory from Stokes Farm, oregano buds from Stokes Farm, and lovage and basil from Keith’s Farm; grated pecorino and Parmigiano Reggiano Vacche Rosse, both from Buon Italia; and homemade breadcrumbs processed from a the heels of a variety of great breads
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Catarratto IGT, Bosco Falconeria 2013
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1714 opera, ‘Orlando Finto Pazzo’, Alessandro De Marchi directing the Academia Montis Regalis and the Turin Teatro Regio Chorus

Bluefish. I had convinced myself that I could prepare it without using the oven. We hadn’t enjoyed it as an entrée in almost a year, which certainly eliminated the boredom factor (always a concern when you’re cooking fish several times a week, and it’s almost always local).

It was the first time I had used the recipe, and I don’t know where I found it, but I had printed it some time ago, with the caption, “‘Provincetown Bluefish’ (spicy)”. I was surely attracted to the reference to the Cape paradise whose culture was still very Portuguese when I first played there 50 years ago.

The single fillet I brought home on Saturday weighed about 18 ounces, far more than I would normally want for the two of us, but it was the smallest one in the stall on Saturday, it was, as always, inexpensive, and this superb pelagic fish sport fish is a very healthy choice, and currently a sustainable one.

Bluefish needs some kind of distraction to perform on the plate at its best. Usually that means some form of acid, and tomatoes are the most common. This time the distraction was provided by a lot of spice (although not the fiery kind), and some sweet peppers rendered a little more pungent with a little anchovy, and a little more sweet with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

• one 18-ounce skinned bluefish fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, rinsed, halved, dried, coated on the flesh side with a mix of 1/2 tablespoon of Spanish Dolce Pimentón, 1/2 tablespoon of freshly-ground black pepper, 1/2 teaspoon of Jamaica cayenne, and 1/2 teaspoon of dried thyme (from a bottle just opened), sautéed in a large, heavy, tin-lined oval copper pan for 4 or 5 minutes on each side, on the coated side first, removed and placed on or adjacent to an accompaniment of sautéed peppers which had already been prepared
• eight small multi-colored bell peppers from Stokes Farm, washed, seeded, and julienned, sautéed inside a large seasoned cast iron pan with a little olive oil, stirring until they had become soft, 2 large salted anchovies (rinsed) added and cooked until they were dissolved, the pan removed from the heat and 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar added and stirred in [note: the amounts of all the ingredients could be doubled if there is no other vegetable]
• three large red ‘new potatoes’ from Norwich Meadows Farm boiled in well-salted water, drained, dried in the still-warm glass pot, quartered, rolled in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with chopped parsley from Phillips Farm and chopped summer savory from Stokes Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Catarratto ‘Vigna del Masso’, Feudo Montoni 2015
• the music was Henry Desmarest’s 1697 opera, ‘Venus & Adonis’, Christophe Rousset directing Les Talens Lyriques and the National Opera of Lorraine Chorus

I was about to pick out a couple of gorgeous pink mako shark steaks at the Pura Vida Fisheries greenmarket stand when I noticed some beautiful triggerfish fillets in a bucket nearby.  Paul and his wife also seemed more excited by the latter, visitors found in local waters far more rarely than the shark. That fact, together with my memory of our having really enjoyed triggerfish on the one occasion I had prepared it, won the day – and last night’s meal. Triggerfish it would be.

By the way, triggerfish is subtly sweet (they dine on crustaceans) and the texture of the fillets alone would put it in a class by itself: unlike that of any other fish I can think of right now, the flesh is both quite firm and beautifully flaky when cooked properly. The picture above suggests as much, but out of sight is the ease with which I was able to run the fillets over, and then remove them to the plates.

The sweet potato greens however were entirely new to me. I had tasted them raw at some time in the week before, and I thought they were pretty wonderful, but that moment I had already bagged all the vegetables I needed.

On Friday, as soon as I spotted these beauties I knew what I would serve with the triggerfish. They’re probably delicious in almost any state of cooking, from raw to par-boiled and sautéed, and I’m going to try to find out for sure whether that’s the case, with what I expect will be repeat purchases. My only concern would be dealing with the stems, since they don’t soften as quickly as the leaves. On the other hand, a certain amount of chewiness isn’t really a problem for me.

• four 3-ounce triggerfish fillets from Pura Vida Fisheries, rinsed, dried, seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed inside a large, heavy oval, tin-lined cooper pan in olive oil over medium-high heat for only about 90 seconds on each side, removed to 2 plates, drizzled with a little fresh organic lemon juice, immediately sprinkled with chopped fresh dill from Keith’s Farm, with more dill tossed into the pan along with a few drops of olive oil, pushed around with a narrow wooden spatula, those juices then drizzled over the fish
• a third of a pound of sweet potato greens from Alewife Farm, washed, drained, sautéed, then briefly covered until wilted inside an oval enameled, cast iron pot in olive oil in which one chopped garlic and a small amount of slivered cherry bomb/red bomb pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm had first been softened, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a little organic lemon juice, and drizzled with olive oil
• 2 tiny new potatoes (probably red Norland) from Central Valley Farm, boiled, drained, dried in the pan, rolled in olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, and scattered with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm
• one yellow heirloom tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm, cut into bite-size pieces, mixed with good Campania olive oil, Maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper, a few drops of white balsamic vinegar, and torn bits of basil leaves from Keith’s Farm, served in oval dishes at the side of the plates
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, Karen Birmingham Sauvignon Blanc Lodi 2015
• the music was 2 early nineteenth-century works by Nicholas von Krufft, in the album, ‘Sonatas For Bassoon And Fortepiano’, with Wouter Verschuren’s 1810 Cuvillier bassoon, and Kathryn Cok playing a copy of an 1805 Walther and Sohn fortepiano

Peppers aborted, then redeemed.

We like hot peppers, and we can normally take the heat, but earlier this week one variety new to us turned out to be far more fiery than anything we had experienced before.  Neither of us was able to finish a small appetizer plate of this pepper (something like a Padron or Shishito), which I had served as an appetizer for this meal, and then had to abort most of it. But I didn’t want to give up on those remaining on the plate, thinking at the time, if too much of a good thing is not so good, just the right amount of a good thing might be very good. I thought that the peppers should have a second chance, this time subsumed into a frittata with other, far tamer ingredients, making an ordinary dish more complex, and delicious, than it would be without them. I put the remaining peppers, as they were (already-sautéed and salted), into the refrigerator next to a small bowl of some plain, cooked penne remaining from another meal 2 nights before.

Last night it finally all came together.

• one large garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, sliced, sautéed slowly inside a 10″ seasoned cast iron pan in a little olive oil with some sliced red scallions from Rise & Root Farm until both were softening and fragrant, a handful of small hot green peppers from Campo Rosso Farm which had been sautéed in oil a few days before, and some cooked Setaro Penne Rigatoni (the equivalent of 4 ounces of dried pasta), halved in its lengths with a kitchen shears, both stirred in the pan and heated, followed by a mixture of 8 eggs from Millport Dairy Farm which had been whipped with 3 tablespoons of the pasta water, sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a mix of chopped herbs (parsley, lovage, tarragon, savory, thyme, and mint), and when that had been settled, torn basil from Keith’s Farm scattered over the egg mixture and 6 slices of one large, ripe heirloom tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm placed on top, the frittata allowed to cook slowly on top of the stove until the outer layer of egg had set, when it was placed in a broiler for barely a couple of minutes, or until the center was no longer runny, removed, scattered with some beautiful micro radish greens from Two Guys from Woodbridge and allowed to cool for a few minutes before serving, supported by an iron trivet on the counter, when it was sprinkled lightly with a very good Campania olive oil
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, S + A Verdelho Calveras County 2015 [this vintage is now out of stock; the link is to the 2014]
• the music was Antonio Salieri’s 1785 opera, ‘La Grotta Di Trofonio’, in a performance of Christophe Rousset, Les Talens Lyriques, and the Lausanne Theatre Municipal Opera Chorus 

Sicily.

It was a Sicilian meal, well, creatively Sicilian. Calamari are definitely a Sicilian thing, and the wine was Sicilian. Lots of herbs familiar in Sicilian cooking showed up, like oregano (here from the Madonie Mountains, Sicily); basil (the Hudson Highlands, in New York); and there’s no dispute about the importance of anything fennel in Sicily, here fennel flowers (the Catskill Mountains, New York); there was olive oil of course (not from Sicily, but at least from southern Italy, Puglia; there was pepperoncino (the plains of Turri, Sardinia, the next island north of Sicily), and there was garlic (New York again); lemon was important (here the California Central Valley?); and there were also tomatoes (very Sicilian – via Spain – even if these came from the area in New Jersey the Delaware culture called, Tuphanne [cold water], today’s Old Tappan); there was one large zucchini, or at least a relative of the zucchini (this one grown in the Green Mountains of Vermont); finally, the northern Italian radiccchio of which there are some traces in Sicily, at least these days (had that not been the case, this little Sicily conceit would have been a deceit; the radicchio I used came from the our own north, that same farm in those same Green Mountains).

As for the dessert, peaches are Italian, although the 2 we had were from the Marlboro Mountains in New York (the farm is owned by an Italian-American family).

 

*Chicories are grown in Sicilian gardens, even though they appear to have been an invention, or re-invention of the north of Italy.

 

• a large enameled cast iron pan heated until quite hot, its cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and, while the oil was hot, about 13 ounces of rinsed and dried squid from Blue Moon Fish in the Union Square Greenmarket, bodies and tentacles, arranged very quickly in it, immediately sprinkled with some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia and part of a crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, followed by drizzling a few tablespoons of juice from an organic lemon and some olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for 4-5 minutes, removed, distributed onto 2 plates, and drizzled with the cooking juices, pieces of lemon served on the side

piccolo squash in the market; trifolati minutes before removed from the heat

 

• a luscious, re-imagined classic summer-squash-and-tomato trifolati made by sautéing chopped pieces of an egg-shape piccolo summer squash (or ‘round green squash’) from Tamarack Hollow Farm with 2 sliced garlic cloves from Alewife Farm inside a large enameled cast iron pan, until the squash began to brown, followed by some of ‘the best cherry tomatoes‘, from Stokes Farm, along with salt and pepper, stirred well and cooked for 5 minutes, during which time pieces cut or torn from the core of a head of radicchio from Tamarack Hollow Farm were gradually added, the thicker parts first, the pan removed from the heat and some basil from Sycamore Farm, torn, added, the vegetables drizzled with olive oil, covered, and allowed to sit for 10 minutes to half of an hour or so [the recipe appears in “Italian Too Easy“], served on the plates sprinkled with fragrant fennel blossoms from Mountain Sweeet Berry Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Grillo, Ca’ Lustra di Zanovello, from Astor Wines & Spirits
• the music was Antonio Vivaldi’s 1728 opera, ‘L’Atenaide’, in a brilliant performance by Modo Antiquo, directed by Federico Maria Sardelli