I slept late, and Monday is a slow Greenmarket day, so I decided that the better part of a creative foraging outing might take me to our neighborhood Whole Foods Market, which is only down the block. I almost never purchase an entrée their, but I make an exception for their salmon. It’s not local of course, but there was once a time when salmon flourished in our local waters. Effectively, unless it’s farmed (in areas much further north and east of New York and New England, or even still much further away, in the southeastern of southwestern Pacific), it has to have come from the Pacific northwest, but I foster the conceit that what we are enjoying is the bounty which has followed the reintroduction of this noble species into our local streams and coastal waters years from now.

The chard had come home with me from Union Square farmer’s stall on Saturday. It was obviously very fresh, because 2 days later it seemed to be in the same superb condition in which I had found it, and it was one as delicious as any I had ever prepared.

The potatoes, as they were potatoes, were less of a concern for absolute freshness, but I was happy that we would be able to enjoy the last of a bag I had purchased 12 days before.

• one fourteen-ounce fillet of Pacific coho salmon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, the skin left on, halved, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, the flesh side [CORRECTION: this should have read “the former skin side”, and in fact this time I incorrectly pressed the mixture on the flesh side] pressed with a mixture of ground coriander seeds, ground cloves, ground cumin, and grated nutmeg, sautéed in a little olive oil over a medium-high flame inside an enameled, oval cast iron pan over medium-high heat, the flesh side down, for 2 or 3 minutes or so, then turned over and cooked for another 2 or 3 minutes, finished on the plate with a little squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of a good olive oil, garnished with micro buckwheat greens from Windfall Farms
• a few ‘Kennebec’ potatoes from Keith’s 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 some good Portuguese olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, where they were sprinkled with toasted homemade bread crumbs and garnished with micro buckwheat greens from Windfall Farms
• *a modest amount of rainbow chard (the apposite cost of this miracle vegetable when it is grown in early March suggests I use restraint), from Norwich Meadows Farm, purchased from their stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had first been heated and slightly softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and finished with a drizzle of the Portuguese olive oil and a bit of lemon juice
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) red, Jacqueline Bahue Cabernet Franc Sonoma Valley 2015, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1729 opera, ‘Lotario‘ (Lothair), Alan Curtis conducting the ensemble, Il Complesso Barocco; the opera’s Wikipedia entry suggests that it was one of his least successful (one of the composer’s librettists, who did not have any part in this one, wrote “everyone thinks (Lotario) a very bad opera”), but the music is wonderful

Putting a dish onto the table that’s as simple, easy, and delicious as this one is like, well, not making your cake but still getting to eat it.

• two tablespoons of olive oil heated over medium heat inside a large antique, heavy tin-lined copper pot, a pinch of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi from Buon Italia and another pinch of golden/orange habanada pepper, the combination added in order to introduce a very subtle complexity to the dish, added and stirred over heat for about 10 seconds, followed by a half dozen or so halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, and then the contents of a 10-ounce package of cooked and drained Rana spinaci e ricotta [spinach and ricotta] ravioli from Eataly, the pasta gently stirred into the pot, and some reserved pasta water added and stirred with the contents of the pot until the liquid had emulsified, some cut sections of garlic chives from John D. Madura Farm mixed in, the pasta and sauce transferred to shallow bowls and finished with some gently-toasted home-made breadcrumbs and more of the garlic chives, a bit of olive oil drizzled around the edges of the pasta
• the very little wine that was consumed by [one of us] was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was a 1650 opera of Gioseffo Zamponi, ‘Ulisse All’isola Di Circe’, Leonardo Garcia Alarcon conducting the Namur Chamber Choir, Clematis Ensemble, and Capella Mediterranea

Today, after encountering some difficulties in slicing the loaf the first time I tried, one week ago, I finally arranged to serve a breakfast (actually a late lunch) of eggs and, ..scrapple!

Okay, it does look somewhat monochromatic; I don’t know why I couldn’t have introduced a cherry tomato or two.

Although conventional wisdom would describe this as a Lancaster County breakfast, it would not have looked out of place in the area my parents were from in Wisconsin, or, for that matter, in the areas where their own families had originated early in the 19th century. The Amish themselves, popularly known as ‘Pennsylvania Dutch’, whether in Pennsylvania or elsewhere, are not ‘Dutch’ at all, except that, along with the people of the Netherlands, they share membership in the larger Germanic ethnic group.  For hundreds of years the appellation, ‘Dutch’ was used in English to describe people from both the Netherlands and Germany.

As for the scrapple, unless you are or feel close to the culinary traditions of ‘the Dutch’, in the larger sense, don’t look carefully at the picture below.

It was a lot of fun doing this for the first time, and it was delicious. Oh, and, compared to bacon, it’s obviously ein Schnäppchen [a bargain].

There will be more color the next time.

The presentation was clearly much simper than most of these breakfasts/lunches, in deference to a culture I respect, but to which I’m not actually attached.

• eight ounces of scrapple from Millport Dairy Farm. sliced about 1/4″ thick, breaded on both sides, using a local whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills in the Union Square Greenmarket, fried, turning once, inside a large, very hot seasoned cast iron pan until each side had been seen beginning to brown on the surfaces touching the pan, removed and kept warm in a very slow oven, half a dozen Americauna eggs from the Amish of Millport Dairy Farm replacing them inside the pan, after some butter was added, the 6 Spiegeleier finished with Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a sprinkling of garlic chives (Germans use garlic and chives, I reasoned), served with toast from 2 kinds of bread, a day-old mini-baguette and a Balthazar rye boule, both from Whole Foods Market
• the music today, within a long Sunday liturgical breakfast tradition, marked the first of a number of anticipated seasonal ‘passions’ (musical narratives from the Gospels), Orlando de Lassus’ ‘St. Matthew Passion’, Bo Holten, conducting Bo Holten conducting Musica Ficta

Ocean perch. It’s a beautiful fish, and always a treat, even when if one of the diners has to negotiate it while suffering the temporary loss of the use of one hand.

Dealing with the vegetable ended up the larger challenge.

• *four red-skinned ocean perch fillets (18 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, and dried, both sides brushed with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with a total of little more than one  teaspoon of a chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and the white section of one thinly-sliced scallion from Phillips Farms, the fish seasoned, also on both sides, with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside an enameled cast iron pan and broiled, skin side up, 4 or 5 inches from the flames, for 4 or 5 minutes, or until the skin had become crisp and the fish was cooked through, finished on the plates with a sauce that had already been prepared by gently heating 2 salted anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, in a bit of olive oil over a very low flame for about 4 minutes until they had fallen apart, the sauce kept warm while the fillets were broiled, the perch garnished with micro buckwheat greens (with a mild sorrel, or lemon flavor), Whole Foods Market organic lemon wedges served on the side
• *one bunch of sweet baby bok choy from Northshire Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket (secretly paid for by an anonymous benefactor), added to a heavy vintage large tin-lined copper pot inside of which 2 bruised and halved Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had been heated until beginning to brown, the choy stirred until tender, occasionally introducing some of the water which they had shed after being washed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates, scattered with some washed, dried, then very roughly cut garlic chives from Lani’s Farm,  drizzled with olive oil
• there was no wine, since it was temporarily forbidden each of us for a few days, for different reasons
• *the music was Vivaldi’s 1726 opera, ‘Il Farnace’, in an extraordinarily beautiful performance led by Jordi Savall; it was now at least our third hearing, not counting this one, from over 12 years ago, in which Vivaldi’s music accompanies Muntean/Rosenblum’s ‘It Is Never Facts That Tell’, the collaborative’s digital projection of a great world emptied and reduced to an enormous landfill, achingly beautiful, even without the music which accompanies its hooded figures

There are 7 earlier entries on this blog that spell this fish as ‘grey sole’ and 6 that use the form, ‘gray sole’. Supposedly the former spelling is used overwhelmingly in the U.K. and Canada, the latter just as frequently in the U.S., but somebody forgot to tell the fisher people on eastern Long Island. Perhaps the responsibility for the anomoly, if it is an anomoly, can be laid on the particularly New England features of Suffolk county culture, and the particularly English features of the culture of New England itself.

On this site, at least going forward, I’ve decided to go with the spelling used by my fishers: That means that yesterday I bought some beautiful ‘grey sole’.

There was also a surprising amount of green on the plate for the last day of February, all fresh from local farmers (there was no question about the proper spelling of ‘green’).

There were the pea greens in the sauce served with the sole..

..the dark green of the vegetable that accompanied it..

..and the tiny ‘rainbow micro greens’..

..that garnished the very un-green potatoes..

..but the really spectacular color disappeared before we sat down: the incredibly sweet baby carrots which our farmers of Windfall Farms had dug up from their thawed soil in Montgomery County the day before we enjoyed them, as crudités before the entrée.

After the carrots, the meal went like this.

• four small grey sole fillets from P.E. & D.D. (a total of 12 ounces), dried thoroughly, salted on both sides and brushed with a little good Italian white wine vinegar, coated with a thin layer of a local whole wheat flour from the Blew family of Oak Grove Mills in the Union Square Greenmarket and sautéed over a medium-high flame inside a heavy vintage oval tin-lined copper pan in 2 or 3 tablespoons of olive oil, turning once, the fillets removed and the pan wiped with a paper towel, then 2 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market, and and a loose handful of pea greens from Windfall Farms, allowed to warm inside of it for a minute or so, either over a low flame or none at all, the sauce then drizzled onto the sole
• six small Maine-bred ‘Kennebec‘ potatoes from Keith’s 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 2 tablespoons or so of the Organic Valley butter, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, garnished with rainbow micro greens from Windfall Farms
• one small bunch of cavalo nero from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted briefly inside a large vintage tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil in which 2 cloves of Keith’s Farm Rocambole garlic had first been heated, seasoned with salt and pepper, drizzled with a little more oil
• the wine was a California (Clarksburg) white, Richard Bruno Clarksburg Chenin Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Joseph Bodin de Boismortier’s 1729 Sonate per fagotto e continuo, Op. 50, and his Pièces de clavecin, Op. 59, published in 1736, in an album featuring performances by Pietro Pasquini, Claudio Verh, and Paolo Tognon

Simply delicious.

While I was in the Greenmarket on Monday I heard somebody say, “garlic chives are like ramps”, and I knew immediately what I was going to make for dinner, the next day (I already knew there would be fish that night).

So last night I imagined I was putting together a meal that would show off my late-winter high tunnel ‘ramps’. Then I pulled some of the ingredients, making it even more simple.

It worked beautifully.

But don’t try this without a very good pasta, cooked perfectly al dente.

• a couple tablespoons of olive oil placed inside a large, high-sided, vintage tin-lined copper pot    over a medium flame until warmed before 8 ounces of Afeltra 100% grano italiano spaghetti, produced in Gragnano, from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente and drained, stirred in, about three quarters of a cup of the reserved pasta water gradually added until it was emulsified, a bit of dried  pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia added, followed by a generous amount of washed, rinsed, and dried garlic chives from Lani’s Farm, the lengths cut into thirds, and a handful of pine nuts from Buon Italia, toasted, finished with a dusting of Sicilian wild fennel pollen and a sprinkling of more garlic chive sections
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was François Joseph Gossec’s 1782 opera, ‘Thesee‘,  Guy Van Waas conducting the ensemble Les Agrémens and the Namur Chamber Choir