As a word, ‘halibut’ means ‘holy butte’ (butt spelled with an ‘e’ at the end).

The name is supposedly derived from the combination of the medieval English words for holy and butte (the combo has everything to do with traditional Catholic food obsessions, and ‘butte’ here is the general term for flatfish, not a part of the anatomy flatfish obviously don’t possess, even when very  young).

Still, for other reasons, I’ve always considered Halibut a great treat, but it’s generally pretty expensive, so when I spotted a beautiful tray of very fresh looking fillets in the fish display at Chelsea’s Whole Foods market, learned that it had never been frozen, and that it was [very seriously] on sale, I grabbed us a piece.

I then looked inside my files for a very simple recipe, but one with a little zing, and I found something by California chef David Gingrass that I had cut out from Food & Wine 12 years ago.

I mostly followed his instruction.

• after the oven was turned on and set at 400º, one large crushed garlic clove from Chelsea’s Foragers Market and the zest of one small organic lemon from Chelsea’s Whole Foods Market was mixed inside a small bowl with 2 tablespoons of Trader Joe’s very good all-purpose Italian Reserve unfiltered olive oil and allowed to stand at room temperature, discarding the garlic after 10 minutes and the oil put aside while another tablespoon of olive oil was heated until shimmering inside a shiny re-tinned copper au gratin pan and one 20-ounce halved piece of Canadian halibut (I believe from the Pacific, but, sadly, the fish person didn’t know) from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, both seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, was added to the pan, skin side up, cooked over high heat until the bottom could be seen beginning to brown [I may have been too cautious with the heat, as my halibut didn’t quite ‘brown’, but I also think: too much oil!], or about 3 minutes, then transferred to the oven and roasted for about 5 to 6 minutes, or until opaque throughout, arranged on the plates browned side up, where they were drizzled with the garlic lemon oil and garnished with micro scallions from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• six Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slow-roasted inside a small antique rolled-edge tin oven pan with a heaping teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, half a tablespoon or more of Trader Joe’s Reserve olive oil, and 3 bruised cloves of garlic from Foragers Market

• I treated the chard that I had on the windowsill pretty much as the escarole was handled in Gingrass’ recipe, heating one tablespoon of olive oil inside a large vintage copper pot, adding one crushed garlic clove, 2 salted but thoroughly rinsed and filleted anchovies, and a bit of Calabresi peperoncino secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, then cooking over moderate heat, stirring, for about 30 seconds, before more than half of 2 living (they and their roots rested in water inside a glass container) red chard plants that I had brought home from Stokes Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, washed, drained several times, and roughly chopped, were stirred in gradually and heated until barely wilted, or for about 2-3 minutes, seasoned with salt and black pepper, then drizzled with olive oil
• the wine was a stunning Spanish (Terra Alta) white, Aureo, White by Joseph Puig 2014, from Astor Wines 
• the music was Renée Fleming’s magnificent voice, along with Handel’s opera seria, of 1735, ‘Alcina’, William Christie leading the Choir and Orchestra of Les Arts Florissants, with Juanita Lascarro, Laurent Naouri, Timothy Robinson, Kathleen Kuhlmann, Susan Graham, Natalie Dessay, and Renée Fleming 

Four whole butterfish, enough to serve as an entrée for both of us, set me back all of $1.85 at the Union Square Greenmarket yesterday. I knew they would be cheap; they always are, but I was still shocked when I saw the amount written on the bag. I told Delores, the fisherman’s wife, preparer of the superb seafood items they sell along with the catches themselves, and their acting cashier on busy Saturdays, that there must be a mistake, that there were 4 whole fish inside. Nonplussed, but only until for a moment, she replied: “They’re butterfish, right?”

They were butterfish, and they were, very right. The catch (no pun intended) was that they hadn’t been cleaned, so some of the value added was mine, but that operation took a very few minutes and required no skill whatsoever.

They were also very very beautiful, at every step in the process of their preparation. At the time I moved to the east coast from the Midwest (well, via Germany) over half a century back, I did not know that I would end up living at the edge of an ocean with fish designed to look as spectacular as these.

There was a first course, partly because it was a holiday: We were celebrating one of our anniversaries: We had met exactly 28 years before. We had Delores’ smoked seafood salad, or pâté, and it was every bit as delicious as I remembered.

• a composed smoked fish salad, or pâté, using local fish caught by Phil Karlin of P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company, whose wife, Dolores actually made it, consisting of more than one kind of white fish, smoked; mayonnaise; red onion; and celery (the salad was perfectly seasoned), served on slices of a rich, moist loaf of a fantastic ‘beet rye’ from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co. that had just been toasted over an open gas flame on our ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ seconds before

• two tiny heads of gem lettuce from Tamarack Hollow Farm, their roots snipped off and the leaves pressed down to almost resemble rosettes, dressed with a little unfiltered olive oil from the 6th Avenue Trader Joe’s, Maldon sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a bit juice from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon
• the wine was a California sparkling rosé, Keith Hock California Sparkling Rose 2016, from Naked Wines

I was able to assemble and set up almost everything I needed to cook the main course before we sat down to the appetizer, and the cooking itself was brief and pretty straightforward.

• four 5-ounce whole butterfish from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, cleaned at home (the heads cut off, making it very easy, then the dorsal and ventral fins cut off with a kitchen shears), rinsed, drained, dried, 2 deep cross cuts made to each side before they were brushed with a mixture of olive oil, most of the zest and some of the juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, chopped parsley from Phillips Farms, and some crushed dried red shishito pepper (with no heat) purchased from Lani’s Farm last fall, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper on both sides, dusted lightly with a local Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from The Blew family of Oak Grove Plantation in Pittstown, N.J., placed in 3 or 4 tablespoons of a combination of olive oil and butter inside a large (13″) well-seasoned cast iron pan that had been allowed to get very hot, the heat then turned down to low and the fish sautéed for about 3 or 4 minutes each side, by which tie they had turned a crispy golden brown and been cooked through, arranged on 2 plates and sprinkled with more, (fresh) chopped parsley

• three Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods, halved, heated in a little olive oil inside a small vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass skillet, seasoned with salt and pepper, tossed with a pinch of dry organic wild fennel pollen from Buon Italia and arranged on the plates next to the fish

• one bunch of collard greens from Migliorelli Farm, the stems removed from the larger leaves, the larger leaves torn into smaller sections, washed 3 times, drained (some of the water retained and held aside to be added, as necessary, near the end of the time the greens were cooking), braised gently until barely softened or wilted inside a large, antique copper pot in which 2 cloves of halved garlic from Foragers Market had first been heated until they had softened, seasoned with salt and black pepper, finished with a small drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde) rosé, Phaunus Amphora Palhete Rosé 2016, a wine from a pretty extraordinary tradition

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

I would normally go to the Union Square Greenmarket on a Friday, but yesterday I decided not to go (heavy rain; I waited for it to clear, until it was probably already too late; I didn’t really have to go; etc., and, anyway, I could go the next day, even though it would be crowded – I think of Saturday as largely for amateurs, and people holding hands – so that night I broke out a box of local pasta and looked around the kitchen for something that would make an interesting sauce.

Cucumbers!

There was a first course, to add even more interest to the meal.

• two ounces of La Quercia Prosciutto Americano from Whole Foods, drizzled with a bit of good olive oil, Badia a
  Coltibuono, Monti del Chianti from Chelsea Whole Foods Market
• a little wild arugula from Lani’s Farm, dressed with the same oil, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a dash of Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia (using a mix of Langhe white wines)
• slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche (this bread goes on forever, never losing its flavor, and almost none of its texture or crustiness)

To avoid much of an interval, the water for the pasta was already being heated when we sat down with the prosciutto, and the simple, quickly made sauce, the ingredients already assembled, was begun when we had finished.

• eighteen ounces of Korean cucumbers from Lani’s Farm, sliced about 1/2″ thick, dried, sautéed inside a large antique high-sided copper pot in a little olive oil over a fairly high flame until they had begun to color, joined by 2 whole small dried red Calabrian peppers from Alewife Farm, the thickly chopped bulbs and sliced leaves of 6 small ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, cooked until the ramp bulbs had softened slightly and the surface of the little peppers began to look like that of candy apples, seasoned with salt and pepper, then 8 ounces of a local pasta, Sfoglini trumpets, cooked al dente, and some of the pasta water, were added to the vegetables, stirred over a high flame for a couple of minutes to blend the flavors and the ingredients, and to emulsify the liquid, after which a pinch of fenugreek was added, and a bit of juice from a Persian lime from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, the mix transferred to 2 shallow bowls, drizzled with a bit of olive oil around the edges (after the picture above was taken) and scattered with homemade breadcrumbs, made from crusty loaves darker or more strongly-flavored than most, that had been heated and browned, stirring in a little olive oil inside a small seasoned antique cast iron pan, the bowls garnished with the pretty spectacular effect of some micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Marche/Matelica) white, Fontezoppa Verdicchio di Matelica 2017, from Garnet Wines
• the music was an album featuring Ernst Krenek’s Symphony No. 4 and his Concerto Grosso, Alun Francis conducting the North German Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, but after the Krenek we switched from classic (classic for us) to something closer to now music, an album of contemporary chamber works by Kaija Saariaho (b. 1958): ‘Chamber Works for Strings, Vol. 2’, performed by the Meta4 string quartet, with the chamber music songs sung by soprano Pia Freund

Even though I think I’m always prepared for the possibility, I’m still pretty surprised when a meal exceeds my expectations.

This one went out of the park.

I’m taking a good look at this picture of the first outing of my old, recently re-tinned pan, because I’m pretty sure it’s not ever going to look this shiny again.

The tilefish started out pretty shiny as well.

• three tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ allowed to melt inside a newly-re-tinned vintage oval copper au gratin pan in a 475ª oven until barely browned, then adding the bulbs of 4 ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm sliced crosswise, the leaves sliced lengthwise, and more than 3 tablespoons of chopped herbs (lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; spearmint from Stokes Farm; sage, parsley, and dill from Phillips Farms) scattered around the pan, one beautiful tilefish fillet (17 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside the pan skinned side down, roasted, the oven turned down to about 450º as a compromise with the requirement of the vegetable, turning once, for about 12 minutes, or until done, removed to the plates, sauced with the pan juices
• three Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods, halved, added to the pan with the tilefish during its last few minutes in the oven

• one pound of asparagus, with spears of various thicknesses, from Phillips Farms, the tough ends snapped off, and much of the length of the few wider stems peeled, rolled inside a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan with a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm in a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little salt, and ground black pepper, roasted at 425º for about 20 or 25 minutes, then drizzled with a bit of Whole Foods Market organic lemon when they were arranged on the plates
• the wine was an Italian (Trentino-Alto Adige/Sudtirol) white, Alois Lageder Pinot Bianco 2017, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Ernst KRENEK: Complete Piano Concertos, Volume TWO’, with Mikhail Korzhev and the English Symphony Orchestra conducted by Kenneth Woods

Just after midnight Tuesday I tweeted, aware of the possible ambiguity, “we had local mushrooms and hemp pasta tonight; now enjoying a little California rosé as a chaser, listening to @WilliamBasinski” (we had turned to the Basinski after the Vaňhal symphonies that had accompanied the meal itself).

The reality had nothing to do with hallucinogenics, although there was real wine.

• nine ounces that remained from a box of Sfoglini hemp reginetti opened for an earlier meal, boiled until just before it would have reached the point when it was al dente (about 10 minutes), drained and served with a mushroom sauce made by heating 4 tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ until it had stopped sizzling, after which one large sliced ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm, and 10 small whole fresh sage leaves from Phillips Farms, and 10 ounces of separated or sliced sections of yellow oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation were tossed in, followed by 2 chilis (a pinch of crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper and a slightly larger amount of light colored home dried habanada pepper), the mix sautéed until the mushrooms were soft and golden brown, then seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, and almost a quarter of a cup of shredded Parmigiano Reggiano (aged 24 months) from Whole Foods Market scattered on top, finished with a garnish of micro purple kale from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was an Italian (Chianti) red, Chianti Santa Fiora Villa Travignoli 2014,from Garnet Wines & Liquors
• the music was an album of symphonies by the classical Czech composer Jan Křtitel Vaňhal [here using the modern Czech spelling]

I didn’t know what I was going to do with the monkfish tails this time until Barry suggested I roast them with the little Magic Molly fingerlings I had bought the week before. It seemed it would be a good time to use these deep purple potatoes, since their darkness doesn’t work visually with many entrées and vegetables.

In the 2 earlier meals in which I had prepared baked purple potatoes in a dish like this I had used cod, which required a little preparation ahead of time. The substitution of monkfish meant adjusting the seasoning, particularly the salt, and there were a few other changes, but I cobbled together a formula that worked.

• fourteen ounces of quite small ‘Magic Molly‘ potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, sliced to a thickness of roughly 1/4″, tossed inside a large bowl with 3 tablespoons, or slightly more, of a good Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of an Eckerton Hill Farm crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper, arranged, certainly overlapping, inside a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan, cooked for roughly 25 minutes in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced, but ideally not quite fully cooked, then 2 monkfish tails, or Lotte, (20 ounces total) purchased from Jan, at the P.E. & D.D.Seafood stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, before we started talking about remodeling kitchens, washed and rinsed, placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzled with a little olive oil, sprinkled with some salt and pepper, partly blanketed with thin slices of 3 Backyard Farms Maine ‘Cocktail tomatoes’, the tomatoes themselves seasoned lightly, the pan returned to the oven for about 15 minutes, or until the fish was just cooked through, fillets and tomato removed with a spatula (2 spatulas ae better), along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought along with each piece, everything arranged on the plates as intact as possible, any remaining potatoes then added, everything garnished with chopped fresh dill from Phillips Farms
• one bunch of red mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted inside a large antique copper pot in a little olive oil in which several large halved cloves of Foragers Market garlic had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a French (Petit Chablis) white, La Chablisienne Pas Si Petit Petit Chablis 2016, from Philippe Wine
• the music was Gavin Bryars’ 2004 piece, ‘New York’, a concerto for tuned percussion quintet and chamber orchestra

I didn’t have any great expectations for this slight, improvised dish, but good artisanal pasta is usually an extremely good collaborator, so it turned out really, really well, thanks also to the claytonia, or miners lettuce that I had picked up in the Greenmarket a few days earlier.

• one medium slightly robust in flavor ‘Camelot’ Dutch red shallot from Quarton Farm, minced, sautéed in a couple tablespoons of olive oil inside a large antique copper pot until fragrant and softened, then a pinch of crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper added and stirred in before 8 ounces of a locally-sourced and locally-produced artisanal pasta, a ‘Jerusalem Artichoke Fusilli’ from Norwich Meadows Farm which incorporates their own sunchokes (the name I like to us when I can, since neither Jerusalem nor the artichoke has anything to do this these native American tubers) which had been cooked al dente, drained, were added, and everything stirred, along with a good part of a cup of reserved pasta cooking water, now over high heat,  until the liquid was emulsified, the pasta sprinkled with a little chopped thyme from Phillips Farms and  seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, tossed with a good helping of the stems, leaves, and flowers of Claytonia, or Miner’s Lettuce, from Vermont’s Tamarack Hollow Farm, finished with a squeeze of a small Persian lime that had been raised by David Tifford of Fantastic Gardens of Long Island, a farmer (mostly of decorative plants) who is also found in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the wine was a Portuguese (Lisbon) white, AdegaMãe Dory 2017
• the music was the album, ‘Lebanese Piano Music’

Last night I returned to my ancient, well-thumbed and lightly-sauced 1966 edition of Julia Child’s, ‘Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1’ to help me decide what to do with a cut of meat I don’t think I have ever prepared before.

The result was really delicious, although it was very different from my current cooking style, and it looks surprisingly ‘French provincial cooking’ (I don’t know what I was expecting). Anyway, thank goodness for micro greens.

It also reminded me of some of the reasons I mostly abandoned Julia Child years ago: I almost always found it personally very stressful, especially toward the finish, even when they were a great success (maybe you have to be the mythical bonne femme to carry it off?); I got tired of the rigidity of her formulas; I doubted her books would ever enable me to be creative or improvisatory; and I was eventually persuaded that the recipes were unnecessarily complicated, especially after I started working with Italian models. I worried that I would never be à la bonne femme

These are the potatoes that went into this meal. I may finally have to admit that I become obsessed with eggs at this time of the year. The image is of a couple handfuls of Pintos, but as I was preparing them last night I saw them as small marzipan Easter eggs. They made absolutely delicious roasted potatoes!

I found timing the cooking of this single veal chop problematic, and I don’t know why. I had kept the lowest possible flame under the covered pot while it was braising, but my instant read thermometer told me it was done much sooner than Julia had said it would be. The next time, if there is a next time, I’m probably going to depend entirely on my personal finger gauge, as Pierre Franey advises:

Of course, it is not always practical to pierce chops with a meat thermometer, so I usually use the trusty finger method. Press the meat carefully and quickly while it is cooking-naturally, avoid touching the hot surface of the pan-and if the meat bounces back readily, it needs further cooking. As soon as the meat loses that resilience, it is done. Judging this takes some experience, but once you master the technique, it is foolproof.

• one 23-ounce veal shoulder chop, slightly over an inch thick, from Alex at the Consider Bardwell Farms stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, dried well with paper towels, seared in 1 tablespoon of butter and half a tablespoon of olive oil inside a heavy medium size enameled oval cast iron pan (the chop just fit, with no room to spare), once the butter foam had begun  to subside, for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, regulating heat so the butter is very hot but not browning, removed to a side dish, the meat seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, et over moderate heat, more than a tablespoon of minced strongly flavored ‘camelot’ Dutch red shallots from Quarton Farm stirred into the butter and oil, cooked for 2 minutes, stirring, the veal returned to the pan, 1/4 cup of dry white wine (our dinner wine, Medoc Villa des Crus 2015) added, along with some chicken stock, enough to come half way up the meat, a teaspoon or so of home-dried sage (originally from Phillips Farm last summer), the liquid brought to a simmer, the pan covered, its contents maintained at a slow, steady simmer throughout cooking (as it turned out, less than 45 minutes) basting the meat several times with the liquid inside, the chop removed, the meat removed from the bones, and divided onto 2 plates and kept warm for the few minutes it took to finish the sauce by removing the fat with a vintage cast aluminum ladle designed for the purpose, the liquid brought to a boil and reduced rapidly until liquid almost syrupy, almost all the juice from half of a lemon added, at least partly to offset its inevitable saltiness, remove from heat and about 2 tablespoons of soft butter added, a little at a time, until melted in, the sauce spooned over the veal on the plates and served immediately (the vegetables having already been added to each) garnished with micro purple kale from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• one pound of pinto potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved lengthwise, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, rosemary leaves from from Stokes Farm [and optionally, a small amount of crushed home-dried habanada pepper], arranged cut side down on a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted at about 400º for around 20 minutes

• a couple handfuls of beautiful chicory rosettes from Campo Rosso Farm that Chris said had popped up this spring from last fall’s plants, washed, drained, dried, each halved, or quartered, if larger, tossed in a large bowl with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and a number of thyme branches from Chelsea Whole Foods, then arranged inside a large well seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, roasted at 400º for about 10 minutes, by which time their edges had become deliciously crispy, removed from the oven, the pan allowed to cool just a little before they were drizzled with a very small amount of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a French (Medoc) red, Medoc Villa des Crus 2015, from Garnet Wine
• the music was a recording of the first symphonies of Hans Gál and Robert Schumann, Kenneth Woods conducting the Orchestra of the Swan

• technically it should probably be described as ‘Côtes de Veau Dans Leur Jus‘ although my headline style would require all lower case), and in Julia Child’s book it is, but that didn’t all fit inside the space I had available

The 3 most basic food groups: fresh, local, good. All 3 had them.

• one thick tuna steak (15 ounces) from Pura Vida Seafood Company, from which I had first cut off a 6-ounce section to freeze for later use, 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 mix 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 all first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for only a little more than a minute or so on each side (if the cook can remember to watch the time), 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 a little micro red radish from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• 6 Maine cherry ‘cocktail’ tomatoes from Whole Foods, slow-roasted inside a small antique rolled-edge tin oven pan with a heaping teaspoon of dried Italian oregano from Buon Italia, half a tablespoon or more of Trader Joe’s Reserve olive oil, and 4 bruised cloves of garlic from Foragers Market
• one bunch of bok choy (aka, bok choi, pak choi, pak choy, pok choi, for ‘small white vegetable’) from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, washed, sliced into one-inch sections, wilted inside a large vintage, heavy tin-lined copper pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil after 2 halved garlic cloves had already been heated there until they had begun to brown, the process starting with the thickest sections of this wonderful brassica chinensis, those closest to the root end, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, removed from the flame while still a little crunchy, drizzled with a little more olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Alentejano) white, Herdade Do Esporao Reguengos Esporao White 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Caroline Shaw’s new Album, ‘Orange’, performed by Attacca Quartet

They were the first ramps I’d seen in the Greenmarket, and it wasn’t a day too soon. In fact it seemed they were more like 14 days late, judging by my Food Blog records over the years.

The pasta was also a treat, and the smoked duck breast was sublime. The mix of those 3 required almost nothing else.

• the sliced white, bulb sections of 3 perfect ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm heated gently, until they had become fragrant and had softened a bit, in a couple tablespoons of Trader Joe’s very good unfiltered Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil inside a large antique copper pot, 9 ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ whole wheat Italian Pastaio di Gragnano from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, tossed in, followed by about 3 quarters of a cup of reserved cooking water, all stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, the heat turned way down and 4 four ounces of roughly chopped applewood-smoked duck ham (breast) from Hudson Valley Duck Farm mixed in, along with barely a pinch of crushed dried hickory-smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, also some chopped fresh thyme leaves from Phillips Farms, seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, the ramp leaves, now thinly sliced lengthwise, thrown into the mix, the pasta arranged inside 2 shallow bowls and sprinkled with some grated Parmigiano Reggiano (aged 24 months) from Whole Foods Market
• the wine was a really good California sparkling, Eponina Brut California NV, from Naked Wines
• the music was Helen Grime’s ‘Woven Space’, with Sir Simon Rattle conducting the London Symphony Orchestra