That bacon was as good as it looks. As was everything else, including the the eggs, which, for the first time in longer than I can remember, were not from a farmer at the Union Square Greenmarket, and [probably] not really local. While there on Saturday, I didn’t buy eggs, thinking I had 11 left in the refrigerator. Later I discovered there were only 5, so I headed down the block to Whole Foods and looked for something that might be equivalent to what we’re used to.

I don’t know how long they had been away from the hen, but the 6 large ‘Vital Farms Pasture Raised Organic Eggs‘, described as ‘From Family Farms Across America’ (thus my question about how local they could be) were very good! Maybe it also had something to do with the fact that the package was able to certify ‘min 108 sq ft’ for the ‘pasture raised standard / outdoor space per bird’ (hell, most folks’ offices aren’t that large).

• the breakfast/lunch included 6 large eggs from Vital Farms (see above); thick bacon slices/pieces from a package of ‘ends’ I had cut by hand at home, from Millport Dairy; finely-chopped portions of one tiny yellow and one tiny red hot pepper, both from Eckerton Hill Farm, which had been swimming in olive oil inside a small cup overnight; 2 habanada peppers, chopped, from Norwich Meadows Farm; chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge; maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper; a mix of various chicories and tender greens the folks of Campo Rosso Farm had presented to guests at a farm dinner at Untitled, dressed with a Campania oil and white balsamic vinegar, maldon salt and freshly-ground pepper; an aromatic Middle-Eastern-style seasoning blend, ‘L’eKama‘; and toast from slices of Orwasher’s Bakery ‘Pain Rustica Umbria’ (unbleached unbromated wheat flour, cabernet grape starter, water, malt, salt, yeast) from Murray’s Cheese Shop, made on my ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post]
• the music was Hans Zender’s Logos-fragmente (Canto Ix), which happens to include early Christian texts, so accounting for its being chosen on a Sunday morning (it’s our weekly conceit)