We had a guest, almost a last-minute guest, last night. I did however have enough notice to be able to purchase 3 servings of fish at the Union Square Greenmarket earlier in the day, and also one beautiful head of radicchio larger than one I would normally bring home.

It all went swell.

It was also one of the most relaxed and pleasant small dinner parties either of us can remember, especially considering the fact that we had only met Andrew a few days earlier. Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of this thing.

Or maybe it was just our affable Australian artist, Andrew Nicholls.

We sat down to a salad whose elements seem to have been waiting for just this occasion. Barry had brought home a soft Spanish goat cheese a few days before, to enjoy with the tomatoes which were only now fully ripened.

• one knob of a Spanish goat goat milk cheese, ‘Capricho de Cabra‘, from Whole Foods Market, brought to room temperature and arranged on the plates with sliced ripe heirloom tomatoes in 3 different colors from Berried Treasures Farm which were seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground back pepper, everything sprinkled with chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, and drizzled with an excellent Puglian olive oil, Alce Nero DOP ‘Terra di Bari Bitonto, from the Flatiron Eataly Market
• slices of an Eric Kayser ‘baguette monge’ [missing in the picture above]
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2015, from Philippe Liquors and Wine, once we had finished the aperitif wine, a New Mexican (Sierra County) sparkling white, Gruet Brut NV, from Astor Wines & Spirits

The main course was also very Mediterranean, although (like the first, with the exception of that Spanish cheese) the ingredients were almost entirely local.

• three 8-ounce Yellowfin tuna steaks from Pura Vida Seafood, rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of a dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a mortar and pestle along with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, then seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame (for only a little more than a minute or so on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Trader Joe’s Market and some olive oil, served with bronze micro fennel from Windfall Farm
• one large (exactly one pound) head of Treviso radicchio from Campo Rosso Farm, washed, the liquid drained and wiped off, cut lengthwise into four sections, one of them wrapped and returned to the crisper for another day, arranged one cut side up on a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan (after securing the leaves by wrapping each with string), covered with lots of thyme branches from Phillips Farm, seasoned generously with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, drizzled with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, baked in a pre-heated 400º oven for 12 minutes or so, turned to the other cut side and returned to the oven for 8 or 9 minutes, then turned uncut side up and drizzled with one more tablespoon of oil, baked for about 2 minutes more, arranged on the plates, garnished with a few fresh thyme branches
• half a dozen ripe Sun Gold tomatoes from Franca Tantillo’s Berried Treasures Farm, rolled around for a minute or so, with a bit of olive oil inside a 200-year-old enameled cast iron porringer (I love using that thing), seasoned with sea salt and ground black pepper, sprinkled with a bit of lovage that remained from that which had been chopped for the first course [the tomatoes were introduced largely for the color they could add to the plate]
• the wine was a Spanish (Rias Baixas) white, Martin Codax Albarino 2016, from Philippe Liquors and Wines

There was a dessert, imagined and executed pretty much on the spot, since I found no berries at the Greenmarket that day, and I had not prepared for anything else.

• a small scoop of some terrific, very rich Riverine Ranch Water Buffalo Sweet Cream Ice Cream from the farmer’s stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, topped by a small scoop of Talenti Vanilla Bean Gelato from Whole Foods Market, drizzled with some Toschi Orzata Orgeat syrup, finished with some chopped candied ginger sprinkled on top

 

• the music through much of the meal was from the recordings included in the book, ‘Lead Kindly Light‘, described as a “176-page hardcover, clothbound book with 2 CDs featuring recordings of Rural Southern Music: Old Time, String Band Music from Appalachia, extremely rare Country Blues and African American gospel singing from 1924-1939”; we had pulled out the book and the compact discs during dinner after we learned of our guest’s interest in the culture and music of that era, and area

I was crossing a few borders when I put together this meal tonight. There was Spanish chorizo from a New York German Metzgerei, a very Italian quince confiture, Italian rapini from a local Yankee farm, and German boiled salt potatoes from an Italian American farmer, mixed with a very English herb.

• Four 3-ounce links of a wonderful spicy chorizo sausage from Schaller & Weber, pan grilled for a few minutes over a medium flame until heated through, served with an Italian quince confiture from Westside Market, Lazzaris’ Salsa di Mele Cotogne [the confiture appeared on the plate after the photograph was taken].
• three medium-size unpeeled Red Norland potatoes from Berried Treasures farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a generous amount of lovage from Keith’s Farm
• one bunch of very tender early fall broccoli rabe from Willow Wisp Farm, washed and drained several times, trimmed and very roughly chopped, and with much of the water still clinging to the greens, wilted with olive oil inside a large enameld cast iron pot in which one large, lightly-crushed and quartered Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm had been heated in a little olive oil until beginning to color, finished with sea salt, freshly-ground pepper, and a small amount of a finely-chopped Calabrian medium-hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, arranged on the plates and drizzled with more olive oil
• the wine was a California (grapes from two districts) red, Tom Shula California Malbec 2015, from Naked Wines 
• the music was the album, ‘Camerata Roman Plays Baroque – Purcell, Roman, Handel‘

I looked for mackerel when I arrived at the fishmonger’s on Wednesday, since I was hoping to introduce some to the cherry tomatoes I’d been husbanding in our kitchen.

I had bought the tomatoes one week earlier, when they were less red, less ripe, less sweet, and I had kept them on a north window sill until they were perfect.

Here’e what they looked like while in the Union Square Greenmarket, still looking more orange than red.

The turnips, which I had purchased the same day I cooked them, were already very sweet. Turnips may not have been the perfect complement for this fish, but it was an interesting conversation.

• fifteen ounces of Spanish mackerel (4 fillets) from Blue Moon Fish, washed, dried, brushed lightly with olive oil and seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled over high heat for 6 or 7 minutes, first skin side down, turned half way through, removed and arranged on the plates with a salsa consisting of 8 ounces or so of gorgeous, perfectly ripe cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, halved, that had been tossed with 3 teaspoons of olive oil, a little more than a teaspoon of Sicilian salted capers (first rinsed and drained), half a tablespoon of juice from a Trader Joe’s organic lemon, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and some chopped oregano from Keith’s Farm, garnished with a little more oregano
• a handful of Hakurei turnips (or ‘ Japanese turnips’) from Willow Wisp Farm, separated from their beautiful greens, leaving a bit of stem on each, scrubbed and  halved vertically, sautéed inside a heavy medium-size tin-lined high-sided copper pan in a little olive oil, in which one thickly-sliced garlic clove from Keith’s Farm had been softened, until the vegetables had begun to color, then removed and set aside while the washed and very roughly cut greens were introduced to the pan and heated until barely wilted, the turnips returned to the pan and everything seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• the wine was an Italian (Tuscany) rosé, Il Rose di Casanova, Casanova della Spinetta, from Philippe Wines
• the music was a great classic recording of Mozart’s ‘Le nozze di Figaro’, Georg Solti conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra and the London Opera Chorus, with Thomas Allen, Kiri Te Kanawa, Lucia Popp, Samuel Ramey, Frederica von Stade, Jane Berbié, Kurt Moll, Robert Tear, Philip Langridge, Yvonne Kenny, and Giorgio Tadeo, with Jeffrey Tate, continuo
  

We often eat so late that I haven’t wanted to extend meals later than they already run with just one course. Still, I’ve been trying to fit in an appetizer course again, and on Tuesday it finally happened.

I realize only as I write this, probably because there was so much else going on in this meal, that both courses were dominated by ‘smoky’ ingredients.

• four ounces of smoked monkfish from Blue Moon Fish, brought to our dining room temperature, sliced thinly and arranged on 2 plates with a mound of red dandelion from Paffenroth Farms which had been drizzled with a very good olive oil, sprinkled with a pinch of Maldon salt and some freshly-ground black pepper; served with a sauce composed of Sir Kensington’s plain, Classic Mayonnaise (which is made by some ex-Brown students; their headquarters are in SoHo), lemon zest and juice from an organic Trader Joe’s lemon, chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, the very last of the fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• slices of Elio’s Bakery Portuguese whole wheat bread from West Side Market

The main course was a rich pasta dish, featuring a dried, artisanal form we enjoyed for the first time.

• three thickly-sliced ‘scarlet’ or Japanese scallions and one half of a small chopped red onion, both from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed in a little olive oil side a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until they had begun to color, half of a small bright red Calabrian medium hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm stirred in near the end, followed by most of one fresh habanada pepper, chopped, also from Norwich Meadows Farm, and one fennel bulb from Hawthorne Valley Farm, its wedges, sliced radiating from the core, having just been pan grilled, that mix then joined by 6 ounces (dry weight) of a package of a smoky Agricola del Sole ‘Orecchiette di Grano Arsopasta‘ [Eng. ‘burnt grain’], from Eataly, cooked al dente, along with some of reserved pasta water, the ‘little ears’ moved about on the surface of the pot over a medium flame until the liquid had emulsified into a decent sauce, which was combined, after the flame under the pot was turned off, with thin slices of one perfectly-ripe mahogany-colored heirloom tomato from Berried Treasures Farm that had been slipped into the mix and then barely moved about, the finished pasta scooped into 2 shallow bowls, finished with a drizzle of olive oil and some more chopped fennel fronds

There was fruit for a finish, shown here on the table of the farmer’s stall.

• Somerset grapes from Alex’s Tomato Farm at the Saturday Chelsea Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Greco di Tufo 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Purcell’s 1689 opera, ‘Dido and Aeneas’ (one of my favorite operas from any period, even after having played my LP of excerpts over and over in the 50s and 60s), in a magnificent performance  René Jacobs conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment

Swordfish belly.

It was beautiful, lying inside a tub on the ice. I had almost no idea what it was, or at least I didn’t know what if would taste like, or how I should cook it, but when I saw it at the fisherman’s stand in Union Square on Monday I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to find out.

I immediately began to look everywhere on line, but I found almost nothing, which really surprised me. Most of what I did come across, and almost all of the images, was connected to the doings of high-end chefs and restaurants (as in, dainty and very pretty little appetizers). One writer wrote that he or she had decided to try it because, well, pork belly, and tuna belly, both of which had become quite a thing in recent years, so why not swordfish belly?

Indeed.

I did do a paper search as well, but there was absolutely nothing in any of my own files or cookbooks on the subject.

By that time I had gathered that at least I wasn’t coming in at the tail end of a new food fad.

I did manage to put together a recipe myself, informed a little by what I had seen, and entirely from ingredients I had on hand. The basic idea was to arrange some good flavors, and to avoid masking the subtlety of that which I expected from the swordfish itself.

The steak was delicious. We were fortunate to be able to share it and its juices with 2 very congenial vegetables and their own juices. That usually calls for a good crusty bread, and I had one ready.

• one swordfish belly steak (13 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to room temperature, skinned (although I’m not sure that it would have been inedible, as it is with regular swordfish steaks), cut into 1½ to 2-inch-wide sections that were not too thick (say, less than one inch), briefly seared, 30 seconds on the first side, 15 on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter) enameled cast iron pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until very it was very hot, the fish removed and arranged on the plates, the heat under the pan turned down a bit and one chopped fresh habanada pepper and 6 or 8 pitted and halved black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia pushed around inside of it until they had warmed, these then arranged on the swordfish, everything seasoned with Maldon salt and drizzled with a little organic lemon from Trader Joe’s, finished with a garnish of micro fennel from Windfall Farm
• one very-thinly-sliced medium shallot from Norwich Meadows Farm heated in 2 tablespoons of olive oil inside a heavy, high-sided tin-lined copper pan until softened, then one broadly/roughly-chopped Radicchio Variegato di Castelfranco from Campo Rosso Farm introduced into the pan, some salt and pepper added, the chicory stirred until it had barely wilted, finished with a small splash of balsamic vinegar and arranged on the plates
• two bright heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, sliced, gently heated inside a smaller tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, some chopped oregano from Keith’s Farm stirred in, arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more oregano, and drizzled with a little olive oil
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1723 opera, ‘Ercole’, Fabio Biondi directing the ensemble, Europa Galante

I don’t normally do stews. I don’t have anything particular against them. Maybe I usually like to work fast, or maybe I prefer the neatness of a more aggressive relationship between food and heat than that associated with dishes called stews.

But the luscious product of this quite simple recipe could change my mind, especially since I cam imagine how well it might be suited for serving to guests as a casual entrée. I found it while looking for something this past Sunday night to match both my food stores (a single monkfish tail, lots of heirloom tomatoes, handfuls of small okra)  and the time I had available to make dinner. It was fairly quick to prepare, and the process itself pretty straightforward.

The reward was the happy melding of ingredients, and a wonderful savory creamy sauce that had absolutely nothing to do with cows.

• two cups of chopped heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, and one cup of chopped yellow onions from Neversink Organic Farm, sautéed in 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large, heavy tin-lined high-sided copper pot over a medium-high flame for about 8 minutes, or until the onions had softened and the tomatoes had virtually become a sauce (turning the heat up still higher near the end to reduce the amount of liquid, since they were heirlooms, and not a sturdier breed), seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, then ½ cup loosely packed chopped mint from mint from Alex’s Tomato Farm and ¼ cup loosely packed chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm (tarragon would actually be the first choice, but I didn’t have any), ¼ cup white wine and 2 to 3 tablespoons of a good white wine vinegar, here Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia, were all added and the contents of the pot allowed to continue to cook for about 2 minutes, or until the smells of the wine and vinegar had dissipated, a one pound monkfish tail, from American Seafood Company in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, sliced into pieces 1 ½ inch thick, added to the tomato mixture, the pot now covered, and cooked for 5 minutes, or until the flesh was opaque, then uncovered, the fish turned over and cooked for another 2 minutes, served sprinkled some of the fresh herbs

• handfuls of small okra from Kernan Farms, their stems trimmed, washed, dried thoroughly, sautéed over a high flame in a large cast iron pan with a little olive oil and 2 crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, seasoned with sea salt, served in broad low bowls to the side of the the monkfish stew
• the wine was a wonderful Greek (Thessaly) white, Zafeirakis, Malagousia, 2016, from Flatiron Wines; it turned out to be a perfect pairing
• the music was Mozart’s ‘La Finta Giardiniera’, Nicolas Harnoncourt conducting Concentus Musicus Wien

It wasn’t Sunday breakfast, and we can’t even pretend it was brunch; we had our first meal of the day somewhere between the hours when decent folks have their lunches and dinners.

Maybe that’s why I ended up putting so much into it. While the meal looks fairly straightforward in the picture, at least by my bacon-&-eggs custom, there were definitely even more herbs and spices than usual.

NOTE; Not quite visible in the photo was my pleasure in having finally kept 6 yokes intact on their voyage from shell to table; I’m rarely able to manage that.

• the elements that arrived on the plates were: thick slices of bacon and large very fresh pullet eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; lightly-toasted slices of 2 breads, a ciabatta from Bread Alone (local unbleached wheat flours), and a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sour dough from Foragers Market; a bit of sliced green stem from a Scarlet scallion and one finely-slice fresh habanada pepper (the first of the season!) both from Norwich Meadows Farm; a pinch of  L’ekama in dry spice form from NYShuk Pantry; chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm; a pinch of dried fenugreek from Nirmala Gupta’s ‘Bombay Emerald Chutney Company‘ at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street; a bit of fresh fennel seed from Berried Treasures; rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’; Maldon salt, freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper; and some strands of fresh (micro) fennel from Windfall Farm
• the meal was late, but the music choice, a set of evening songs set by Monteverdi, didn’t quite reflect the hour: was Monteverdi’s incredibly-beautiful 1610 ‘Vespers of the Blessed Virgin’, performed by the English Baroque Soloists and John Eliot Gardiner

The best sole I’ve ever prepared. Did it start with the size of the fillet?  It was thicker than any I remember ever having cooked, and I mostly followed a recipe I hadn’t worked with before.

But it was also very fresh.

Was the entrée Italian or French?

I originally thought I would accompany it by pan-roasting some small okra, mostly because I had some inside the refrigerator, but Barry pushed for buttered boiled potatoes, as more sympathetic to this recipe, and I knew I had on hand some of the very best, sitting inside a covered basket waiting to be summoned.

There was another vegetable, a newly-bred sweet pepper, and its introduction to the mix meant that the meal’s cultural roots couldn’t be described as anything other than ‘New York City in the teens’.

• a portion of a thick lemon sole from Pure Vida Seafood (13 ounces), divided into 2 pieces, salted, coated with North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour and set aside while 6 thin slices of an organic lemon from Trader Joe’s Market were placed in more than a tablespoon of melted butter inside a large heavy tin-lined oval copper pan over medium heat and cooked until the lemon had slightly browned, or about 2 minutes (it may be necessary to add more butter, or a bit of olive oil), when they were pushed to the side of the pan the 2 pieces of sole added, turned once, and cooked until done, or until the flesh was no longer translucent (a little more than 2 minutes per side), 2 more tablespoons of butter and more than a teaspoon of  salted Sicilian capers, ,thoroughly rinsed, added to the skillet, which was then removed from the heat and tilted to swirl the butter until it melted, the sole and lemon arranged on individual plates, the capers, butter, and juices spooned  over the top, micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge arranged as a garnish
• German Butterball potatoes from Berried Treasures, Farm, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in salted water until barely cooked through, drained, dried in the large still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, a couple tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ [with 12 grams of fat per 14 grams, for each tablespoon of butter; American butter almost always has only 11grams, which makes a surprising difference in taste and texture], the potatoes seasoned with sea salt and black pepper and arranged on the plates, where they were sprinkled with micro fennel from Windfall Farms
• two small ‘mad hatter’ peppers from Homesweet Homegrown in the Union Square Greenmarket, deconstructed by being sliced thinly, producing star-like shapes, sautéed until softened in a little olive oil inside a small tin-lined copper pan, seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, garnished on the plates with a little chopped fennel frond from a fennel bulb from Hawthorne Valley Farm

There was a cheese course, not pictured, which included a terrific bread.

• three different cow cheeses, all from Consider Bardwell Farm: ‘Pawlet’, ‘Rupert’, and ‘Bardem Blue – Reconsidered’
• slices of a ciabatta (with local unbleached wheat flours) from Bread Alone

 

• the wine was a South African (Western Cape) white, Neil Ellis, Chardonnay ‘Sincerely’, 2016, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Mozart: Serenata notturna, 3 Divertimenti & Eine kleine Nachtmusik‘, Terje Tonnesen conducting Camerata Nordica

 

I’ve done it before, in fact more than once: This shrimp recipe is an awesome treat each time.

The vegetable accompaniment has always been a tomato something. The flavors are a brilliant match, and the colors are as well (which is not always a good thing, but there are a lot of flavors moving around inside these 2 dishes).

That’s where I went again tonight.

• one teaspoon of chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, heated inside a heavy (13 1/2″) cast iron pan over a very low flame until the garlic had colored nicely, a pinch of Spanish saffron, one whole dried chipotle pepper from Northshire Farms in the Union Square Greenmarket (do not squish it), one crushed section of a dried orange-gold habanada pepper, and a teaspoon of freshly-ground dried cumin seed from Eataly added, all of it stirred for a minute or two, then 14 ounces (12 count) of Hudson Valley farmed jumbo shrimp from Eco Shrimp Garden (cut all along their backs, from head to tail, for ease of shelling later, but I’m not convinced that actually makes it any easier) added, seasoned with salt and pepper, the heat brought up a bit, and the shrimp cooked until firm while turned twice, then served with a generous squeeze of lemon, garnished on the plates with micro fennel from Windfall Farms [the micro greens are my addition to Mark Bittman’s terrific recipe, and may seem like overkill, but they really work with the other flavors, and they also look pretty good]
• a bit of one thick scallion from Alex’s Tomato Farm, sourced at the Saturday 23rd St Greenmarket, and one small pink onion (“I like to call them rosé onions”, says Tyler, the farmer/owner of Alewife Farm, in the Union Square Greenmarket), both moderately sliced, heated slowly inside a large, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until softened, then one large heirloom tomato, sliced, slipped into the pan and barely heated, still above a low flame, a generous amount of torn basil from Stokes Farm, sea salt, a pinch or two os sugar added and stirred in, a generous amount of torn basil from Stokes Farm, sea salt, a pinch or two of sugar added and also mixed in, the tomatoes served with pinches of fenugreek that I had purchased from Nirmala Gupta’s ‘Bombay Emerald Chutney Company‘ at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, and garnished with some additional (uncooked and finely-sliced) parts of the scallion and the pink onion used earlier sprinkled on top, along with more of the basil [NOTE: the additional basil wasn’t added until after the photo above was taken]
• a She Wolf Bakery Baguette (60% organic roller-milled white flour, 40% farmer-ground half-white organic stone-milled high-extraction flour, natural leaven, kosher salt, yeast)
• the wine was an Italian (Langhe) white, Nino Costa – Roero Arneis 2016, from Manley’s Wine & Spirits, 35 8th Avenue
• the music was a great 1991 recording of Handel’s 1733 opera, ‘Orlando’, Christopher Hogwood conducting the Academy of Ancient Music, with David Thomas, Arleen Augér, Catherine Robbin, Emma Kirkby, and James Bowman

I had no plan for what I was going to make for dinner, other than that 2 ripe plum tomatoes would be a part of it. Then I remembered that Barry was going to be very near Schaller & Weber on the Upper East Side that afternoon, and I knew that one of their excellent ‘ancestral’ German wursts would do just fine. Or maybe something not so traditional, like their terrific smoked ‘hatch pepper‘ chili sausages. We had enjoyed them at their Stube and at home, but we thought they had only been a short-term summer special. Neither of us expected they would still have any, but they were there when Barry checked their Metzgerei selection.

I wasn’t sure what to serve with those two choices, tomato and spicy sausage (they didn’t seem to add up to a full meal on their own). I had just about decided on a few small boiled potatoes, with some fresh herb, when I remembered I had brought home some really small cucumbers earlier in the day. Now the meal would be neither German nor Italian; maybe it was just New York-ish.

(these cukes are only 2 to 2 1/2 inches long)

 

• four smoked hatch spicy chile sausages from Schaller & Weber, pan grilled until they looked a little blistery
• two ripe ‘striped Roman’ heirloom plum tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm, halved, their surfaces dried, the cut sides placed on top of a mix of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper spread across a plate, pan-grilled inside an enameled cast iron pan for a few minutes, turned, the grilling continued for about the same length of time, removed, arranged on the 2 plates, brushed with a bit of olive oil and a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar
• a couple handfuls of tiny cucumbers from Norwich Meadows Farm (they were labelled, ‘Excelsior’, but they seemed to me to be several different kinds), sliced lengthwise, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large enameled cast iron pan until they had begun to caramelize, and, shortly before that moment, joined by thick slices of a ‘scarlet’, or ‘Japanese’ scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm and some finely-chopped pieces of a small Calabrian medium-hot cherry pepper from Alewife Farm, seasoned with se salt and freshly-ground black pepper, served on the plates sprinkled with a little micro sorrel from Two Guy from Woodbridge and drizzled with olive oil
• the wine was a California (Amador) red, Ana Diogo-Draper Amador Tempranillo 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Francesco Antonio Bonporti’s 10 Inventions, Op. 10