It’s a magnificent fish.

Oily or fatty fish is richer in flavor than other finned seafood, ‘fishy’, meaning it has a stronger flavor of the sea (I love the sea), an extremely healthy choice, usually sustainable, and often relatively inexpensive. Fresh is essential, and very fresh, as these 2 fillets were, can be awesome.

Mackerel needs almost nothing but seasoning to complete it, but introducing an acid can raise it to an ethereal level. I usually pick some kind of good tomato, usually along with some citrus, almost always the celestial lemon.

• two very fresh and very perfect 8-ounce Spanish (aka ‘Atlantic’) mackerel fillets from American Seafood Company, washed, dried, brushed with olive oil, seasoned with local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled on a large, 2-burner cast iron grill pan over high heat for a total of about 6 minutes, skin side down first, then turned over half way through, then removed, arranged on the plates and dressed with a salsa assembled just before grilling the mackerel, consisting of 8 ounces of small halved ‘honeydrop’ heirloom cherry tomatoes from TransGenerational Farm tossed into a small bowl with a teaspoon or more of rinsed and well drained Sicilian salted capers (halved, since these were large), half a tablespoon of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic Mexican lemon, a pinch of sea salt, a bit of black pepper, and some pungent very fresh epazote leaves, also from TransGenerational Farm, finished with more epazote sprinkled on top

• roughly 12 ounces of pinto potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, scrubbed, boiled whole and unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, a tablespoon of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil added, seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, mixed with a little chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm, arranged on the plates and tossed with a little more of the herb
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) white, Oregon Pinot Blanc 2016, ordered directly from Erath
• the music was Rameau’s 1748 opera, ‘Pygmalion’, performed by the Apotheosis Orchestra, conducted by Korneel Bernolet

This meal almost didn’t happen.

It wasn’t clear we were up to a full dinner until moments before I began cooking. What did it was a proposal for the simplest of pastas, aglio e olio, and then I went and threw an herb into it.

Simple; perfection.

• three plump still-fresh/juicy cloves of ‘Nootka rose’ garlic from TransGenerational Farm, chopped, plus a prudent amount of dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero, from Buon Italia, heated inside a large antique copper pot until the garlic had barely begun to color, then 8 ounces of a very good Campania pasta (Afeltra 100% Grano Italiano Biologico Pasta di Gragnano IG.P. Artigianale rigatone from Eataly Flatiron), cooked al dente tossed in, together with about three quarters of a cup of cooking water, the mix stirred over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, some chopped thyme leaves from Stokes Farm stirred in, the pasta arranged in shallow bowls and drizzled with a little olive oil around the edges
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was from an album of the late symphonies of Giovanni Battista Sammartini (c. 1700-1775), performed by Alessandra Rossi Lürig conducting the Accademia D’Arcadia

The small ears of corn were a little larger than the last time I had served them, which pleased me at first, but it turned out both a plus and a minus. Larger ears, it had seemed, would be a good thing, although I can’t say exactly why I had thought that. It did mean that shucking them was a little easier and a little faster, but in this size the cob itself was borderline edible (although I ended up eating all of them, partly because I like variety in the texture of food, and because I hate the messiness that goes with eating only the kernels.

• one 17-ounce cod fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company in the Union Square greenmarket, washed, rinsed, and quartered (to arrive at pieces of equal size and thickness for 2 diners), placed inside a platter on a layer of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the cod was completely covered, set aside while a cooking bed was prepared for them composed of 12 ounces of ‘Lilly’ German Butterball new potatoes from Savoie Organic Farm (new to the Union Square Greenmarket this summer) sliced to a thickness of roughly 1/4″ and tossed into a bowl with olive oil, salt, black pepper, and a pinch of a dried smoked serrano pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, the potatoes arranged overlapping inside a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan, to be placed inside the oven for 25 minutes or so, or until they were tender when pierced but not fully cooked, then, having already been thoroughly immersed in many fresh changes of water to bring down the saltiness, the cod was drained, dried, and placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzled with a little olive oil, sprinkled with black pepper, blanketed with thin slices [although even the picture above shows that this time I didn’t slice it thin enough, since the tomato should almost melt] of one yellow/orange heirloom tomato from Campo Rosso Farm (“There isn’t another farm in the U.S growing the variety of Italian chicories they do, and they do it at an incredibly high quality.” – Suzanne Cupps, of the restaurant Untitled at the Whitney), the tomatoes seasoned lightly with salt and pepper and the pan returned to the oven for about 8 or 9 minutes more (the exact time depends on the thickness of the fillets), removed when done, arranged on the 2 plates with the potatoes still below it, garnished with scissored dill flowers from Quarton Farm

• eight ears of Alewife Farm baby bicolor corn (Tyler volunteered that in this size it was actually “toddler” corn), shucked, brushed with a little olive oil before placed inside a large enameled cast iron grill pan that had been heated until very hot, the ears rotated inside the pan for a very few minutes, sprinkled while still inside the pan with local sea salt and black pepper, and finished with fresh chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm
• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Napa/Santa Lucia Highlands) rosé, Derek Rohlffs Santa Lucia Highlands Rose 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was a 1706 baroque opera by Louis-Nicolas Clérambault, ‘Le Triomphe D’iris’, performed by Hervé Niquet conducting Le Concert Spirituel

Although I hadn’t anticipated any problems earlier, once I had started to put it together, this meal turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

Without doing any research on it, I had decided to buy a vegetable (I think it’s actually a fruit) that I seen showing up in the Union Square Greenmarket for at least several seasons: Bitter melon [momordica charantia], known in India as Kerala, or elsewhere as bitter apple; bitter gourd; bitter squash; balsam-pear, or any number of other names, whose number suggests it’s more popular than most of us would imagine.

Before Sunday however I knew nothing about this gourd except that there were Chinese versions and Indian versions (on Friday I bought the shorter, more deeply green Indian one, with the much more rugged surface), and that both were very bitter. That description  showed up everywhere, and otherwise I don’t remember any discussion of taste. I read only that it was bitter, very bitter; ‘an acquired taste’, the accounts all said, each adding that it might be something that could be acquired, if you were willing to keep at it).

I love cucumber, and I’m also used to sautéing it. While aware it was unlikely this particular beautiful gnarly green fruit, which also grows along a vine, would be anything like that favorite, my casual decision to associate it with cucumis sativus made it oh-so-easy to take home.

It wasn’t like cucumber, of course.

I have to make it clear that, for my own kitchen-conservative reasons (wanting it to relate to the style of, and to be incorporated into my own Western cooking, including the rest of the ingredients and recipes used in this  particular meal), I chose to not prepare the melon in a manner even remotely related to customs in China or India, which may or may not explain why it was still so bitter when I served it, even though I followed the universal advice to soak the raw pieces in heavily salted water to reduce that attribute.

Supposedly it’s very good for you, and it appears in many forms, including extracts and capsules, that reflect the ancient Indian ayurveda tradition, but health foods and supplements are not a come-on that works for me; I’m more likely to be attracted to the rarity of something than its advertised wholesomeness.

I also had a couple of very ripe heirloom tomatoes on the windowsill, but before I had investigated the bitter melon cooking process very far it seemed to me that I had a lot of it, enough to make a second vegetable unnecessary.

I decided to use the tomatoes in a first course, but I didn’t have any form of soft cheese, which would be needed for what may currently be the most familiar way to use really good tomatoes. I did have a great bread, a very dark, complex bread, a corn and wheat bread, nutty, with a hint of sweetness, a kind that would be the rarity I mentioned above, at least in an Italian antipasto context – or in any kind of tomato first course – so I improvised a bruschetta.

Something else was unusual about the meal, although not as unusual as Indian Kerala, at least on our table. Instead of a grape wine, we enjoyed a wonderful bottle of a local dry cider! Think serious Basque dry cider.

• several heirloom tomatoes from Campo Rosso Farm, cut into 1/2-inch pieces, combined in  a medium bowl with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, some freshly ground black pepper, one small sliced and chopped and red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a little While Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and some chopped epazote leaves from Jane’s TransGenerational Farm, spooned over several slices of wonderful dark Homadama bread (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.after their grill-marked toasted surfaces, immediately after coming off of a very hot cast iron ribbed grill pan, had been lightly rubbed with cut surfaces of a ‘Nootka rose’ garlic clove, also from TransGenerational Farm, served with more epazote sprinkled on top

The main course followed soon after, because both the meat and the vegetable cooking times were short, and I was able to prepare most of the larger and smaller ingredients ahead of time.

Also, I was very interested to see how the vegetable would work out.

• two very thick 10-ounce boneless heritage breed pork chops from Raven & Boar farm, rinsed, dried thoroughly, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, plus a very small amount of crushed hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, seared quickly in a heavy oval enameled cast-iron pan, one small halved Mexican organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top of each (after which the lemon was left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed inside a 400º oven for about 15 minutes altogether (flipped halfway through, the lemon halves squeezed over them once again and again on the bottom of the pan, some finely chopped fresh habanada  chili from only a part of one pepper sprinkled on top of the pork at that time), removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, the few juices that remained poured over the top of each, the chops arranged on the plates accompanied by the lemon halves

• one pound of bitter melon from Gopal Farm, washed, cut into 2cm slices, the seeds and pith removed, placed inside a bowl, a generous amount of salt sprinkled on top and with enough water to just cover them, allowed to sit on the counter for about 20 minutes, removed, drained, and dried on a towel or paper toweling, placed inside a large heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, sautéed over a medium-high flame, turning several times, sprinkled with sea salt after as they pieces had begun to carbonize, and, well into that process, one small sliced red one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm added to the pan and the onions allowed to soften, some black pepper and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market) added, the mix arranged on the plates when done on top of fans of some leaves from a small head of purple Romaine lettuce from TransGenerational Farm, drizzled with both a little olive oil and a small amount of white balsamic vinegar, added part of the way into the meal, hoping it might mitigate the bitterness of the fruit (which is also why I had earlier added the lettuce, at the last moment)

So, the post-dinner report on the bitter melon? In the end it definitely remained bitter, but by the time I had finished I was thinking I may have already begun to ‘acquire the taste’ (Barry was somewhat less positive), but I’m still going to look further into the possibility of bringing down the acerbity.

• the wine was a New York (Hudson Valley) cider, Brooklyn Cider House Bone Dry cider, from the makers’ stand in the Union Square Greenmarket (it’s pretty awesome, and we’re definitely going stock up some more)
• the music was Henry Purcell’s 1692/1693 semi-opera, ‘The Fairy Queen’, performed by Sébastien D’Hérin conducting the ensemble, Les Nouveaux Caractères

But of course our Sunday lunches (which are also breakfasts) almost always include Amish farm eggs and bacon; it’s almost everything else that changes, although sometimes only slightly.

• • yesterday, in addition to 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens and 4 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, all from John Stoltzfoos’ Pennsylvania Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, there were two small ripe green and/or red-ish heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, seasoned and heated in a bit of olive oil, sprinkled with scissored fresh dill from Quarton Farm, and the eggs fried inside the same very large well-seasoned cast iron pan in which the bacon had been slowly cooked, but only after thin slices of a Phillips Farms garlic scape had been stirred in and softened in the fat, to which first a little very rich Vermont Creamery butter had first been added, seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and some freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with some finely slivered fresh habanada pepper from Camp Rosso Farm and a pinch of crushed dried smoked serrano peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, scattered with chopped leaves of flowering pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm; the bread, which was very fresh and not toasted, was Homadama bread (wheat , corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
  • the music was an album of 12 Suites for Harpsichord by Johann Mattheson (1681-1764), played by  Alessandro Simonetto

 

The single dolphin fillet was a little smaller than that I’d usually prefer to get for the two of us, but while I was at the fisher’s stand I couldn’t figure out how to bring home more without messing up the aesthetic of the plate. Fortunately I had some wonderful vegetables to help fill in.

I also now realized I had two Mexican herbs, epazote (‘Mexican tea)’ and pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’), to help pull together a meal I ended up feeling had something of a subtle Mexican theme, even more so after the fact: These 2 herbs, plus the dolphin (‘dorado‘), an important fish in Mexico, and the inclusion of a Mexican lemon and some fresh habanada pepper (which was bred from the habañero, native to the Yucatan as well as elsewhere in Central America) didn’t make it a Mexican meal, but it was fun enjoying what they did make of familiar ingredients, and they sure helped make it a good meal.

The herbs appear below as they did in the Union Square Greenmarket, the pericón first, then the epazote (in the center).

• one 10.5-ounce-ounce dolphin fillet, without skin, from Pura Vida Seafood Company, dry-marinated for 45 minutes or so covered with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped fresh parsley from Phillips Farms, plus some local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little Whole Foods Portuguese house olive oil inside a heavy copper skillet for about 3 minutes, then turned over and the other side seared for 3 more, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with a universal copper lid for a minute or two, and when that was removed, the fish joined by some very thinly sliced garlic scapes from Phillips Farms, only a portion from one pepper of chopped fresh habanada, (a little goes a long way, as with most seasoning peppers) and some chopped leaves of pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm, which were together very briefly sautéed along with the fish before it was removed from the pan, followed by the scapes, the habanada, and the herb, and arranged on the plates, with the little bit of rich, savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish from the pan

• roughly 11 ounces of small ‘red potatoes’ from Lani’s Farm, harvested – and purchased – late in July, scrubbed, boiled unpeeled in heavily-salted water until barely cooked through, drained, dried in the still-warm large vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, halved, then rolled in a little olive oil, salt, black pepper, and some chopped fresh epazote from TransGenerational Farm, more of the herb sprinkled on top once the potatoes were arranged on the plates

• one small bunch of young, trimmed, washed, drained, and chopped Redbor kale from TransGenerational Farm, wilted with olive oil in which 2 plump, and still a bit juicy in August, ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves, also from TransGenerational Farm, had been allowed to heat until pungent, seasoned with salt, black pepper, a bit of crushed dried peperoncini Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, and drizzled with a bit more olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Rioja) rosé, Muga Rosado 2018, from Philippe Wine and Spirits
• the music was an album of three very late eighteenth-century Scottish trios by the Czech/Austrian composer Leopold Anton Kozeluch

I’d been waiting for an opportunity to revisit one of my favorite darker artisanal pastas, but the weather hadn’t been cooperating. I had bought the package in the spring, when the weather was much cooler. I think of wholewheat pasta, and the kind of accoutrements it suggests, as just a little too earthy for a hot summer meal, even though that notion is almost certainly just inside my head.

Last night, while our air conditioning was separating us from the August heat and humidity, I thought of it again when I realized I had a small bunch of light kale I had bought for the meal the evening before, but ended up not using. I thought it would be an excellent match for its special appeal, and it certainly was. Still, I did leave off the shaved cheese topping suggested as an option by Melissa Clark, the author of the recipe. After all, it was still summer.

[note to the file – and to Clark’s editors: I’m pretty certain there’s a mistake in the published recipe where it says: “Add chiles and a pinch of salt and toast until golden, 1 to 2 minutes.”, since the chiles are very red, very dry, in any event wouldn’t normally require toasting, and definitely not for 1 to 2 minutes; she may have meant that the garlic should be added at that pont, ahead of the capers and anchovies, but that seems unlikely]

• a bit of crushed dried Itria-Sirissi chili, pepperoncino di Sardegna intero from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market added to roughly 3 tablespoons of olive oil inside a large antique copper pot and briefly heated over a medium flame, followed by 4 fat ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves from TransGenerational Farm that had been crushed and skinned, 2 tablespoons of thoroughly rinsed and drained Sicilian capers, “patted dry with a paper towel to encourage browning”, writes Clark, although I’ve never been able to do this with capers, and couldn’t this time, and 4 well-rinsed, drained, and filleted salted Sicilian anchovies, all cooked until everything was softened, the capers, ideally, looking crisp around the edges, and the anchovies dissolved into the oil, or for about 3 to 4 minutes, at which point one small bunch of young, trimmed, washed, drained, and chopped Redbor kale from TransGenerational Farm was stirred into the pot, and 9 ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ whole wheat Italian Pastaio di Gragnano from Eataly Flatiron, cooked al dente, tossed in, followed by at least 3 quarters of a cup of reserved cooking water, and everything stirred with my ancient #1 wooden spoon over high heat until the liquid had emulsified, when plenty of freshly ground black pepper was added and a bit of organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top, the pasta tossed one more time, then served in 2 shallow bowls
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
• and speaking of the seasons, the music was Haydn’s own interpretation, ‘Die Schöpfung’, Bernard Haitink conducting the Choir and Orchestra of the Bayerischen Rundfunks

It was delicious, and I think the plate looks good, which makes me almost as happy. Nothing was planned even seconds ahead in the presentation; it just unfolded, the fillet first, then the peppers, finishing with the salsa. The tomato and olive mix was placed close to the fish and not the peppers, because it was definitely an attribute of the former. It was not arranged on or under it because it would have at least partially obscured the beauty of the skin and the herbs with which the bass had been cooked, and because, being room temperature, it would have compromised its remaining warmth.

One other note about last night, something I can rarely say: No allium of any sort was harmed in the making of this meal.

• two 6-ounce black sea bass filets from American Seafood Company in the Union Square Greenmarket, whose preparation began, once they had been removed from the refrigerator, with a fresh salsa assembled inside a small bowl about 30 minutes in advance of their cooking, incorporating one cup of sliced green heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, about half a cup of pitted Gaeta olives from Flatiron Eataly, a little crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, some local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Company sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of crushed dried (now in powdered form) golden/orange habanada pepper, and a little olive oil, the mix tossed and then set aside while the fish was cooked: two 5 and a half-ounce black sea bass fillets, also from American Seafood Company, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed over a fairly brisk flame in a little Mac Nut macademia nut oil from Whole Foods Market inside a large vintage oval tin-lined copper skillet, skin side down (because that will be the side seen on the plate later), turned over after about 3 minutes and the flesh side cooked for about the same length of time, or when the fish was done, when it was removed to 2 plates and kept warm while 2 tablespoons of butter were added to the pan and allowed to melt, a couple tablespoons of a mix of chopped spearmint from Stokes Farm and chopped parsley from Phillips Farms (an inspired choice, I think, but there are potentially so many others) tossed in, along with a tablespoon or more of Whole Foods Market organic Mexican lemon juice, all stirred into the butter for a few seconds before the sauce was spooned on top of the plated bass, and the salsa that had been set aside earlier arranged next to the fillets, both fish and salsa garnished with some wonderful pungent dill flowers from Quarton Farm scissored from their stems

• two handfuls of beautiful fresh, fruity (and with no heat) ‘Jimmy Nardello’ sweet Italian frying peppers from Campo Rosso Farm, washed, trimmed, dried, sliced lengthwise, their seeds and piths removed (although there was not much of either), seared and cooked until slightly carbonized inside a large (13″) well-seasoned cast iron pan in a little olive oil (not enough to fully cover the bottom of the pan), turning the peppers once or twice, sprinkling them with salt, and black pepper, as they cooked, and arranged on the plates
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, Sella & Mosca Vermentino di Sardegna La Cala 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was Marin Marais’ 1709 opera, ‘Sémélé’, performed by   Le Concert Spirituel

It’s certainly one of the easiest seafoods to prepare, especially if you decide it isn’t necessary to remove the skin (although the next time I probably will, if only to make the searing more efficient).

Barry suggested swordfish belly when I had I asked him for his preference yesterday, texting him an image of the day’s menu board mounted behind the fish sellers in the Union Square Greenmarket (I don’t get to the market early, so several items had already sold out).

And I had two ripe Sikkim cucumbers, which, it seemed to me, would make an excellent match between south Asia and our New York table.

one 1½-inch-thick, 15-ounce belly steak from a local (Long Island) waters swordfish (note there is a significant shrinkage in the cooking process) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, brought to kitchen/room temperature, cut into 2  segments and the skin not sliced off this time, briefly seared, 30 or so seconds on the first side, 15 or a little more on the second, inside a totally dry (no oil or butter whatsoever) enameled cast iron oval pan which had been pre-heated above a high flame until quite hot, the swordfish seasoned with local Long Island sea salt, also from P.E. & D.D., and freshly ground black pepper as it was turned, then removed and arranged on warm plates, the heat reduced to medium, a tablespoon or so of olive oil added, and slices (2cm) of one garlic scape from Phillips Farms placed inside and sautéed until softened, followed by 10 or so halved, very ripe golden cherry tomatoes from Quarton Farm, which were pushed around inside the pan briefly, the new contents of the pan then arranged on and around the swordfish, and both finished with a squeeze of a small organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea While Foods Market, garnished with some roughly chopped fresh epazote from Jayne’s TransGenerational Farm

two Sikkim cucumbers (20 ounces total) from Gopal Farm, which is very new and very welcome addition to the Union Square Greenmarket, unpeeled, sliced less than an inch thick (2 centimeters), placed inside a large heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, sautéed over a medium-high flame, turning at least once, each side sprinkled with sea salt after it had begun to carbonize, and, well into that process, one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a pinch of a now-powdered dried golden orange habanada pepper olive oil were added to the pan and the onions softened, the mix arranged on the plates when done, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with dill flowers from Quarton Farm

the wine was an Italian (Marche/Matelica) white, Verdicchio di Matelica D.O.C., from Philippe Wines

the music was the album, ‘Musici da camera: Music from Eighteenth-Century Prague’, Jana Semerádová conducting the Collegium Marianum, including the bassoonist Sergio Azzolin

It seemed like these peppers could have been grown just to accompany this duck, or perhaps the other way around.

Also, they were both assertive in both texture and flavor, so there wasn’t much else to add. I’m glad I forgot about the micro greens at the end; the plate was both complex enough and colorful enough without them.

• one 13-ounce Macelleria duck breast from Flatiron Eataly, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of local P.E. & D.D. Seafood Long Island sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing in an oval plate for about 45 minutes, then pan-fried, fatty side down first, in a scant amount of olive oil inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, normally for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once and draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat could be strained and used in cooking at another time, if desired), removed when medium rare, or maybe even a bit less, since it will continue cooking while sitting on the counter, cutting the breast crosswise into 2 portions and checking that the center for the right doneness, left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a squeeze of an organic Mexican lemon from Whole Foods Market, sprinkled with a bit of very fresh and fragrant chopped epazote from Jayne’s TransGenerational Farm, and drizzled with a little Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market

• ten ounces of ‘lunchbox peppers’ from Campo Rosso Farm, halved or quartered, depending on their size, the seeds and membranes removed (there were very few of either), sautéed over a high flame until slightly caramelized, one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm added near the end, a little later still the white section of 2 small some chopped scallions from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street Saturday Greenmarket plus a pinch of the now powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper I had purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm back in 2017, and local sea salt and chopped zaatar [actually, origanum syriacum] from TransGenerational Farm, the vegetables arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more of the ‘oregano’ and drizzled with a bit of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley/Dundee Hills) red, Erath Oregon pinot noir 2016, ordered directly from Erath

There was fruit for dessert. No fussy.

• one perfectly ripe halved medium size Korean melon drizzled with lemon juice and sprinkled with a little salt

 

• the music throughout was a superb performance of Haydn’s Die Jahreszeiten’, with Bruno Weil conducting theCapella Coloniensis and the Tölz Boys Choir