Colorful goodness.

• the fish serving began with a salsa prepared by heating 3 tablespoons of a Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market inside a small vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot pot over a gentle flame, adding roughly 6 ounces of tomatoes (one sliced orange heirloom from Stokes Farm and a couple of sliced Mountain Magic tomatoes  (‘cocktail tomato’ in size, “..a cross between a large-fruited tomato and a very sweet grape tomato…” a hybrid released in North Carolina sometime within the current decade) from Norwich Meadows Farm, along with 2 ounces or so of pitted whole kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, the mix seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and stirred for a minute or 2 before the pan was set aside to cool a little, after which some 2 or 3 tablespoons of herbs (chopped fresh lovage from Quarton Farm, a Sullivan County grower new to the Union Square Greenmarket this year; an equal amount of fresh oregano buds from Norwich Meadows Farm; and torn leaves of a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge) were stirred into the salsa, reserving some of the herbs to garnish the fish and salsa once it was on the plate, followed by the juice of half of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, the mix now stirred once again, and set aside while the fish was prepared
• four 4-ounce porgy fillets from P.E & D.D. Seafood, the skin slashed with a very sharp knife in 2 or 3 places on each, placed skin side down inside a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan in a tablespoon or so of olive oil that had gotten very hot  sitting over a high flame, the top, or flesh side of the fish seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and cooked for 2 or 3 minutes until the flesh was dark golden and the skin crisp’, the fillets turned over, cooked on the other side for just about one minute, quickly basting with the oil in the pan during that time, or until the fillets were just cooked through, arranged on the plates, the salsa drizzled around the porgy and both sprinkled with some of the reserved herbs

• ten ounces or so of tiny purple okra from Lani’s Farm, sautéed over a high flame inside a large enameled cast iron pan in a little bit of olive oil [supposedly cast iron causes even green pods to blacken, but I’ve never really noticed that, at least not as a problem, these pods were already a dark purple going in, but I went with an enameled pan nevertheless], adding a good part of one crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia half way through, seasoned with sea salt  
• the wine was an Oregon (Columbia Valley) white, Dave Harvey Columbia Valley Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1738 opera, ‘Faramondo’, a story of the eponymous late 4th, early 5th-century Frankish dux and goings on in the ancient geographical home of my own family (“All ends happily with general rejoicing…”), performed by I Barocchisti, conducted by Diego Fasolis [a 6-minute excerpt from that same performance here]

It was a night off for the cook, or at least a night when he didn’t have to think much, or juggle a lot of ingredients.

• three ounces of excellent Iowa La Quercia ’Speck Americano’ from Whole Foods, drizzled with a very small amount of a good Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.)
• accompanied by a bit of red (wild?) cress from Dave Harris at Max Creek Hatchery, and a few stems of parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm, the greens seasoned with Maldon salt and a freshly-ground strong black pepper, and dressed with the same oil and a few drops of Cesare Giaccone aceto vino bianco, made from a mixture of white wines from Langhe
• slices of She Wolf Bakery miche

The main course was almost as simple.

• two bruised and halved rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm and 2 small whole peperoncini Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, heated inside a large vintage high-sided copper pot in olive oil until both garlic and peppers were pungent, a little sea salt and some freshly-ground pepper added, one sliced red heirloom tomato from Stokes Farm slipped into the pot and stirred in the now quite pungent oil before a 12-ounce package of cooked (for exactly 2 minutes) Rana spinaci e ricotta ravioli from Eataly was introduced into the pan, everything carefully mixed then stirred with most of one cup of reserved pasta water until the liquid had emulsified, transferred to shallow bowls and scattered with torn leaves of a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Argentinian (Lujan de Cuyo) rosé, Lujan de Cuyo
• the music was Handel’s ‘Hercules, a Musical Drama in Three Acts’ composed in 1744, Marc Minkowski directing Les Musiciens du Louvre

I broke some yolks.

Still, although it’s certainly not related, it turned out to be one of the most delicious versions of my regular Sunday bacon and eggs thing. Maybe I just hit the right combinations in my enthusiasm for adding herbs and spices. The tomatoes however were new, maybe even new to the planet, and incredibly good without much help.

I don’t normally like to make much of what something ‘tastes like’, but these tomatoes shocked me: They tasted a little like fresh sweet corn; go figure.

• the ingredients of this breakfast/lunch included thick pastured-pig bacon and eggs from free-range Americauna chickens, both from Millport Dairy Farm; Mountain Magic tomatoes (‘cocktail tomato’ in size, “..a cross between a large-fruited tomato and a very sweet grape tomato…” released in the current decade) from Norwich Meadows Farm, which were topped with torn leaves of a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge; a bit of crushed peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia and sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm that were tossed into the 13″ seasoned cast iron pan after the bacon and before a little butter was added, prior to frying the eggs, which were seasoned and gingered up with some Maldon salt, freshly-ground very strong black pepper (whose origins I can no longer account for), a pinch of Sicilian wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, and fresh chopped dill from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market; some micro kale from two Guys from Woodbridge as a garnish and as a half-hearted attempt to disguise the broken yolks; lightly toasted slices of 2 different breads, a 12 grain from Bread Alone and a miche from She Wolf Bakery
• the music was a Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s 1698 whatchamacallit, titled, ‘Judicium Salomonis’ (The Judgement of Solomon), and otherwise described as ‘Motet pour une longue offrande‘, a gorgeous work in any event, in a gorgeous performance by William Christie and his Les Arts Florissants

Steak and cucumbers, or to be more precise, water buffalo New York strip steak and poona kheera cucumbers.

• one 13-ounce New York Strip Steak of local water buffalo purchased from Brian Foley’s Riverine Ranch stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, removed from the refrigerator, where it had defrosted, rinsed, dried on both sides with paper towels and sprinkled with sea salt, allowed to rest on the kitchen counter on a paper plate, covered loosely with wax paper, for about 2 hours, then dried once again and placed inside an enameled cast iron oval pan that had already been heated above a medium-hot flame, cooked for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until the meat was just under medium [it’s important not to overcook buffalo, or the steak would be tough; also, noting that the color of this lean meat is a lot redder than beef means that a medium-rare buffalo steak would be the same shade of an almost rare beef steak], and, just before it was done, pieces of a thinly sliced section from a stem of a Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm were tossed onto the pan surface to be briefly heated, softening them, before they were picked out and scattered on top of the meat, before it was removed from the pan and cut into 2 sections (and checked for doneness), moved to the plates, where some juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon was squeezed on top, the steaks finished with a bit of chopped rosemary from Willow Wisp Farm and a drizzle of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, allowed to rest for about 5 more minutes to let the juices to be drawn back into the muscle, relaxing the meat fiber to help ensure its maximum tenderness and juiciness
• three poona kheera cucumbers (a variety sometimes labelled, less accurately, as ‘Sikkim cucumber’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced unpeeled into rounds roughly 3 cm thick, sautéed in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided copper pot over a medium-high flame, turned over once or twice, lightly-sprinkled with salt each time (ideally, they should have carbonized a bit, but I forgot to think about that at the time), adding, more than half way through, slices of a small red onion from Lucky Dog Organic Farm and a couple bright red aji rico peppers (not hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm, then seasoned with freshly-ground black pepper, tossed with a little fresh dill from from Alex’s Tomato Farm, arranged on the plates, garnished with more dill and some torn leaves of a basil plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• a little red cress (possibly wild) from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery
• the wine was a Portuguese (Dão) red, Gota Wine, Dao Tinto “Bergamota”, 2014, from Flatiron Wines

• the music was Lully’s 1676 tragédie en musique, ‘Atys’, William Christie conducting his  ensemble, Les Arts Florissants [I saw his silver production at BAM in 1989]

 

[the image at the bottom is from the 1989 production of ‘Atys’]

The meal was a bit Spanish, -ish. Or maybe it was just Chelsea Mediterranean. But it was also definitely local.

• a generous number of large shishito peppers (all were juicy, some were actually sweet, none were fiery, or even suggested fire, and every one was delicious), the gift of a friend, from her garden, ‘Lower Hayfields’, in Garrison, New York
• slices of 12 grain bread from Bread Alone
• the music was Bang on a Can’s album, ‘Summer Marathon Mixtape 2018’

• a 17-ounce mako shark steak from Pura Vida Seafood, the bloodline removed, cut into 2 portions, marinated in a mixture of olive oil, a tablespoon of chopped fresh oregano buds, a small amount of crushed peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, and thin slices of the stem of a fresh bulbous shallot from Tamarack Hollow Farm, allowed to rest for a little more than half an hour, the first 15 minutes in the refrigerator, 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 to the plates, seasoned with a little sea salt, drizzled with a little lemon juice, dusted with a pinch of some wonderful Italian wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia, and dsome freshly, very-finely-chopped scallions tossed on the top
• a bit of wild red cress from Dave Harris at Max Creek Hatchery

• five small Japanese eggplant from Campo Rosso Farm, each halved lengthwise, brushed all over with a mixture of a little olive oil, 2 finely-chopped medium size rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled on a cast iron ribbed pan above a brisk flame, turning twice, adding more of the material from the marinade the second time, then arranged on the plates where they were tossed with torn basil leaves off of a plant from Two Guys from Woodbridge and drizzled with a bit of olive oil
• the music was Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, Marin Alsop conducting the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue California Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines

I didn’t know until almost the last minute whether this dinner would happen. The hot water in the building had failed at around 6 o’clock, meaning it would be impossible to work in the kitchen; it wasn’t until some time close to 10 that it was restored.

I then found myself rushing to do justice to some very fresh fish I had no desire to keep a second day, and to a vegetable accompaniment I had been looking forward to serving. I was looking at my notes from an earlier meal where I used this recipe, and in my rush to get everything going I forgot to consider the fact that these fillets were somewhat smaller (most important, thinner) than the flounder that had cooked then.

So the fish was delicious, as it has been in the past. It was of course not undercooked, but the remarkable thing is that I don’t think it was overcooked either. I was either very lucky, or else flounder is very forgiving when it comes to oven times. I suspect it was the former.

• four 3 and a half-ounce flounder fillets from American Seafood Company, placed inside a lightly-oiled oval tin-lined copper au gratin pan, skinned side down, the top surface spread (down the center, mostly for the aesthetic) with a mixture of one tablespoon of zest from a Whole Foods organic lemon, one teaspoon of a pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia (it’s sold dried and still attached to the stem), one teaspoon of balsamic vinegar, three fourths of a tablespoon of olive oil, almost a teaspoon of lightly-crushed black peppercorns, a quarter to half a teaspoon of sea salt, and most of one finely-chopped large Rocambole garlic clove from Keith’s Farm, baked for just under 15 minutes in a 350º oven, removed, arranged on the plates, drizzled with some juice from the lemon which supplied the zest earlier, and garnished with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street farmers market
• a little (wild?) red cress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery

• four beautiful pale yellow Hungarian peppers from Stokes Farm, cut lengthwise, the seeds and membranes removed, sautéed over a high or medium high flame inside a large heavy antique high-sided copper pot until slightly caramelized, one fresh bulbous shallot from Tamarack Hollow Farm and a medium fresh habanada pepper from Alewife Farm added near the end, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper and sprinkled with chopped thyme from Stokes Farm, served with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a California (Mendociino and Lake counties) white, Scott Peterson Rumpus California Sauvignon Blanc 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Pier Francesco Cavalli’s ‘Xerxes’, with Rene Jacobs both conducting and singing the title role, as countertenor

 

I had virtually no vegetables in the apartment last night, because I had not gone to the Greenmarket the day before, Monday. We were going out to dinner with a friend that night, and I expected to do just a simple pasta the next day, one which didn’t require a fresh vegetable.

And then our friend announced she was bringing us things from her garden, including some tiny cherry tomatoes. Our Tuesday dinner had suddenly been defined, and the tomatoes  turned out to be as good as they looked.

We began with a salume/salchicha from a package I had picked up a week or so earlier.

• two ounces of Fermin Salchichón Ibérico dry-cured sausage from Chelsea’s Foragers Market, made from the ‘pata negro’ breed of pig (Iberico pork, salt, nutmeg, black pepper, white pepper, plus seasoning which consisted of sugar, trisodium citrate, sodium nitrate, and potassium nitrate), drizzled with a bit of good Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.)
• red dandelion from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with more of the olive oil, a bit of Maldon salt, and some freshly-ground black pepper
• slices of 12 grain bread from Bread Alone

The main course was visually striking, bursting with the color of the tomato gift..

..and in a pose captured immediately after the tomatoes were tossed into the pot, before everything was stirred and the liquid emulsified:

• three smashed cloves of Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic and two whole dried peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia (hot, but not screaming hot small peppers) heated in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil inside a large antique high-sided copper pot until the garlic had softened somewhat and become pungent, followed by 9 or 10 ounces of Pastificio Setaro paccheri from Buon Italia (I love that pasta shape), that just been boiled al dente, along with much of a cup of reserved pasta cooking water, 2 cups of tiny tomatoes from a friend’s garden, ‘Lower Hayfields’, in Garrison, which is a bit up the Hudson from here, and a tablespoon of fresh oregano blossoms from Norwich Meadows Farm (while saving a few to be tossed on top of the pasta at the end), everything stirred over a medium high flame until the liquid had been emulsified, seasoned with a bit of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged in shallow bowls, drizzled around the edges with olive oil, garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Alto Adige/Südtirol) white, Alois Lageder Pinot Bianco 2016, (Pino bianco is known as Weißburgunder in Germany and Austria) from Garnet Wines

• the music was Salieri’s 1775 opera buffa, ‘Il mondo alla rovescia’ [Eng. the topsy-turvy world]; it includes a Goldoni libretto, and “..the mildly risqué action is set on a mythical island where women, Amazon-like, rule the roost and men are reduced to drooling subservience.”

[the image of a scene in the opera is from ♫ il trillo parlante]

Even without the red micro amaranth garnish, this is clearly a ‘red meat’.

I was more than a little intimidated. I had been offered, and had purchased, a frozen  Mangalitsa collar steak one week before, but I had no idea what to do with it. The breed of pig was very different from any known to most cooks today, and the cut was different from any at least that I knew.

The somewhat fascinating story of this breed of pig, was familiar to me, thanks to the auspices of New Amsterdam Market, and I had cooked Mangalitsa pork before, but I had no experience with this particular cut.

I think of them as Habsburg pigs, although their story is actually more interesting than that suggests, even if they’re not Lipizzaners.

The young man at the producers’ stand in the 23rd Street farmers market had given me some pointers, and by the time I had walked away with the steak I thought I had a pretty good idea of what I would do with it, but that lasted only until a few days ago.

I’m inclined to  research, perhaps over-research, almost anything new I may be confronted with. I looked at the on-line entries for Mangalitsa, or, more importantly in this case, ‘pork collar steaks’. These 2 aspects of the subject I was investigating were never discussed combined, at least not in any useful way, and most of the time they were dealt with only separately, which only added to my confusion. I began to doubt I could cook them more or less the same way I’ve always handled good pork chops, but I had not come up with a satisfactory alternative.

The accounts that I did find on line also contradicted each other about the relative tenderness or toughness of the meat, both the breed and of the cut, and the recipes I saw were equally contradictory on that subject. Also, every one of them was also pretty elaborate, in both the ingredients proposed and the preparations described.

I was drawing a blank, so I went with what I knew, using my now-domestic classic lemon pork chop procedure, including the habanada option this time, but adjusting the cooking time for the steak’s greater thickness.

The result was an absolutely superb meat, and unlike any pork I had ever enjoyed. It’s appearance on the plate alone suggested it would be distinctive, which it certainly was.  I didn’t think it was possible but it further enhanced my admiration for the recipe I had found in ‘Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes from the London River Cafe’ 12 years ago, and it was probably the most exciting of an extraordinary long, and continuing, run of lemon-braised chops I had been enjoying since.

I transcribed the recipe here, back in 2014.

Fortunately the 3 vegetables I accompanied it with were up to the same standard (3 because I had found that I didn’t have a sufficient amount of any one, or even 2, of them).

• one thick 13-ounce Mangalitza pork collar steak from the Mangalitsa stand in Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on West 23rd Street (Mangalitsa will be there on 10/06, 11/10, and 12/01; the market closes December 15 and reopens early in May), brought to room temperature, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, seared quickly on both sides, in fact on all sides, since the steak was almost 2 inches thick, inside a very hot heavy enameled cast-iron oval pan, one small, fresh floral-scented heatless orange habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, thinly sliced, scattered on the top surface, followed by most of the juice from half of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, placed inside a 425º oven for a total of about 21 minutes, flipped over halfway through, the habanada slices collected first and repositioned on the the new top surface, the lemon squeezed over it again, and again replaced in the pan, the finished steak removed from the oven when done, halved, arranged on 2 plates, garnished with red micro amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge, the pan juices, deglazed with a tablespoon or two of the dinner wine, poured over the top of the steaks, the remainder of the rich sauce poured into a glass sauce boat which was placed on the table for access later on

• one 10-ounce fresh early-season celery root (celeriac), with greens attached, although I did not use them in this meal, from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, scrubbed, trimmed, peeled, cut into narrow wedges little more than 1/4 to 1/2″ at the thick end, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, a quarter teaspoon of Safinter Pimenton de la Vera smoked picante paprika, sea salt, and a little freshly-ground black pepper, spread onto a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, and roasted at 425º until brown and cooked through, or about 30 minutes, removed to the plates and sprinkled with chopped parsley from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street farmers market
• two small green heirloom plum tomatoes, halved, warmed inside a small copper pan in a little olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with a little chopped dill, also from Alex’s Tomato Farm
• a handful or so of garlic scapes from Berried Treasure Farm, washed, dried, trimmed at either end, cut into one or 2-inch lengths, sautéed over a low to moderate flame in a tablespoon or so of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil inside a medium antique high-sided copper pan until softened, seasoned with salt and pepper
• the wine was an Italian (Alto Adige/Südtirol) white, Kerner, Castelfeder 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Corelli: Concerti Grossi Op. VI’

Considering the time it was served, it should have been styled a very late lunch, but since it was our first meal of the day it was our breakfast. We skipped lunch.

Whatever it should be called, it was delicious, also very rich, but it was an early-in-the-day rich, and it showed a number of big smiles while still in the terra cotta cazuela.

• four sections of thick bacon from pastured pigs raised by Millport Dairy Farm, fried inside a classic steel restaurant pan, each of them then cut into four sections and arranged, not touching, inside a large glazed ceramic baking pan, followed by a layer of sliced heirloom tomatoes (one large orange tomato from Eckerton Hill Farm, and one red, one small yellow, and one small maroon version from Alewife Farm), 6 free-range eggs, also from Millport Dairy Farm, broken into pan on to of the tomatoes, scatter with sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and 10 or so medium size fresh sage leaves from Echo Creek Farm in the 23rd Street farmers market, baked inside a 375º oven until the whites had solidified, or a little over 25 minutes [as the picture shows, the yokes had also solidified, or come close to solidifying, which suggests that the next time I prepare something like this I try covering the pan loosely with aluminum foil], sprinkled with Maldon salt and freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market as well), and garnished with red micro amaranth 
• toasted slices of three different day-old or several days-old breads, a She Wolf Bakery ‘miche’ (in the picture), a 12 grain bread from Bread Alone, and a Paris-style baguette from Orwashers
• the music was the beautiful intellectual exercise of the album, ‘Bach: Morimur’, by the Hilliard Ensemble & Christoph Poppen

Thanks Mr. Oliver.

Earlier in the day I had been looking around on line for something else, when I came across this video of Jamie Oliver describing how to make a tomato salad. I was a bit taken with his blokey charm, humor, and his physical expressiveness. I watched it through to the end.

At that moment there was a pretty good stash of gorgeous heirloom tomatoes on the windowsill in our breakfast room, and it was clear they weren’t all going to wait around very long. I had already been thinking I’d have to use many of them in the dinner I’d be making that night, and at some point I realized what Mr. Oliver was describing was what I wanted to serve with my entrée.

I actually do own one of his books (‘Jamie’s Italy’, chosen probably for the pic of Jamie and his Cinquecento date on the cover), but now I was interested in what he would have to say about that night’s entrée, a tuna steak I had picked up at our neighborhood greenmarket that afternoon. In the end I didn’t budge much from my go-to formula, but I decided to go with his suggestion of adding coriander seed to the fennel seed mix I always use.

Adding the coriander turned out to be a brilliant move. I’ve decided to try yellow mustard seed next time (my idea, but at least partly inspired by the Jamie breakthrough).

Our complements to the Naked Chef for both our tomatoes and our tuna steaks!

• one thick tuna steak (11.25 ounces) from American Seafood Company’s stand in our local Chelsea Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, rinsed, dried, halved, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed with a mixture of a little more than a tablespoon of a combination of wonderful dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia, whole Moroccan coriander seeds from Flatiron Eataly, and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, that had all first been crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle before the steaks were 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 Whole Foods Market and a drizzle of olive oil, garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• several kinds and colors and sizes of ripe heirloom tomatoes (one very large green heirloom tomato from Alewife Farm, another from Eckerton Hill Farm, and a very red plum tomato from Berried Treasures Farm), each cut into large chunks, all placed inside a vintage pyrex mixing bowl (the green one, to be precise), seasoned with sea salt, and a small bit of a red serrano pepper from Central Valley Farm, finely chopped, and a larger aji dulce pepper (not hot) from Eckerton Hill Farm, thinly sliced, a large squeeze of lemon, some Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil, allowed to sit fro a few minutes, then a generous amount of Genoa basil leaves from Willow Wisp Farm tossed in, followed by a small drizzle of balsamic vinegar, the salad tossed together and arranged on the plates
• the wine was an Italian (Abruzzo) rosé, Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo, Sirio 2017, from Astor Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Sheila Silver: To The Spirit Unconquered’