The original dinner plan was to pick up some good wild salmon at Chelsea Whole Foods, but when it came time to do so I didn’t feel like going out, even to the corner, having just finished doing several loads of laundry early in the evening.

There was a package of two crab cakes inside the freezer, and we hadn’t enjoyed that treat in a while; I also had supplies to make some interesting ‘fixings’ for a complete dinner, so that’s what we had.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), mostly defrosted by the time I began heating the 2 above a low to medium flame, with a drizzle of olive oil, inside a small cast iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa composed of 2 small to medium chopped heirloom tomatoes from 2 different farmers in the Union Square Greenmarket (Norwich Meadows Farm and Eckerton Hill Farm), and 3 golden grape tomatoes from one, Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market, combined with a tablespoon or so of olive oil, local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly ground black pepper, a bit of dried dried red espelette pepper (very mild) from Alewife Farm, much of one small celery stalk and most of one thick red spring onion, mixed with garnished some chopped epazote from TransGenerational Farm, arranged on the plates, with more of that wonderful Mexican herb sprinkled on top
• most of an 8-ounce container of plain water buffalo milk labneh from Riverine Ranch, leaving a shallow depression to receive a bit of a very good Greek olive oil (Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Whole Foods Market), a bit of a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk (the two founders are in this video here), a portion of a sweet Italian cipolla di Tropea from Alewife Farm, finely sliced, a little chopped habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, the chopped stem of a baby purple romaine lettuce stem from Jayne and Elizabeth’s TransGenerational Farm, garnished with chopped fresh za’atar leaves, also from TransGenerational Farm, and arranged on leaves of their lettuce that had been dressed with local sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, drops of juice from a Whole Foods Market lemon, and a bit of the same olive oil
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Chris Baker Willamette Pinot Gris 2018, from Naked Wines
• the music was a recording of the Quintet for Oboe and String Quartet (1973) and the Quintet for Bassoon and String Quartet (1977), by the Finnish composer Kahlevi Aho (born 1949) on a Finlandia CD that we’ve owned for many years

I don’t know how to characterize this meal, but it was delicious.

• a few ounces of ‘nduja, a classic Calabrian spreadable salumi (“loosely based on the French andouille introduced in the 13th century by the Angevins” – Wikipedia) now made locally by Rico and Jill of Walnut Hill Farm in Pawlet, Vermont, and available in the Union Square Greenmarket, spread on slices of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (simply wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co. that had first been toasted with my ‘Camp-A-Toaster‘ on top of our 1930’s Magic Chef range, the salumi sprinkled with chopped fresh za’atar [origanum syriacum] from TransGenerational Farm and drizzled with olive oil

The main course was only a little more elaborate, although totally improvised from what I had on hand. It was basically a long pasta with golden grape tomatoes and several fresh or dry seasoning ingredients.

• a few chopped garlic scapes from Phillips Farms sautéed in a little olive oil over moderate heat inside a large antique copper pot until they had softened, then adding a quarter to a half teaspoon of some really great dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron, then part of a habanada pepper from Campo Rosso Farm, sliced thinly, and a small stem of celery from Norwich Meadow Farm, finely chopped, and stirring a bit more before adding eight ounces of al dente-cooked and drained Afeltra spaghettoni, from Eataly Flatiron and almost a cup of cooking water, the mix stirred over medium to high heat until the liquid had emulsified, and more than a handful of lengthwise-halved golden grape or pear-shaped tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, that had been sourced at the Saturday 23rd St Greenmarket, added and stirred into the pasta, the mix seasoned with a little freshly-ground black pepper, and some torn peppermint peppermint from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market and chopped lovage from Keith’s Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, arranged in 2 shallow bowls, more mint and lovage added on top, as well as some chopped celery leaves and sliced garlic flower buds, and drizzled around the edges with a little olive oil

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a Spanish (Bierzo) white, Bierzo Godello, Abad Dom Bueno 2017, from Astor Wines
• the music throughout (it was the American Labor day) was Roy Harris, Symphony No. 1 ‘1933’ and his Concerto for Violin and Orchestra’

Labor Day lunch.

The September date on which the U.S. and Canada celebrate Labour day (Labour Day) was chosen to avoid the putatively un-American leftist, socialist, communist (and, not incidentally, Haymarket massacre*) associations of May 1, the day on which the rest of the world still honors labor, laborers, “..the class demands of the proletariat, and..universal peace”, as International Workers’ Day.

Americans prefer picnics.

To balance things off, today Barry and I mostly enjoyed a good [rainy day, indoor] lunch and listened throughout the afternoon, and continuing through this evening, to American music, some of it associated with the best leftist American values.

Breakfast room activists.

The meal itself included 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, one small ripe red/green heirloom tomato from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, and 3 golden grape tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market, all seasoned with local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and freshly ground black pepper, then heated in a bit of olive oil, sprinkled with chopped fresh za’atar before being arranged on the plates on top of the leaves of one small head of purple romaine, both herb and lettuce from TransGenerational 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 a little rich Vermont Creamery butter had first been added), seasoned with sea salt and black pepper, sprinkled with a pinch of the now powdered remains of some light-colored home-dried habanada pepper purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm in 2017, scattered with chopped leaves of some flowering pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm; there were 2 breads: toasted slices from the heal of a loaf of Pain d’Avignon seven grain bread (rustic, whole wheat, honey, sesame- sunflower-flax seed, oats) from Chelsea Foragers Market and untoasted slices of a much fresher loaf of ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co.

the music was by Roy Harris, his Symphony 1933 (Symphony No. 1), the Louisville Orchestra conducted by Jorge Mester (a little more on Harris here)

 

• on that subject, I wrote eleven years ago,

“I haven’t been able to find a really good compact summary of the strike anywhere on line, although there is this setting of the broader context in a discussion from Howard Zinn. I would definitely welcome any other suggestions. I can however offer information on some of the numbers involved in the physical conflict itself, quoted here from the Kansas Heritage Group:

“The total forces of the strikebreakers both government and private were [against 100,000 strikers]: 1,936 federal troops, 4,000 national guardsmen, about 5,000 extra deputy marshals, 250 extra deputy sheriffs, and the 3,000 policemen in Chicago for a total of 14,186 strikebreakers. In addition to these figures there were also twelve people shot and killed, and 71 people who were arrested and sentenced on the federal indictment.

“No picnic.”

 

 

[the Haymarket massacre drawing published by ‘Harpers Weekly’ is of National Guardsmen firing into demonstrators during the 1894 Chicago Pullman strike contemporary, from Wikimedia Commons]

While we’re not vegetarians, last night’s meal marked only our fourth meat entrée in over a month of dinners. This one, presenting local water buffalo steak, was a little out of the ordinary, and very, very tasty.

• two 9-ounce water buffalo rib eye steaks from Riverine Ranch, rinsed and patted dry, seasoned generously with our local P.E. & D.D. Seafood sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, allowed to reach room temperature (I left it for more than 45 minutes, but it could actually sit for an hour or two with a sheet of waxed paper covering it), seared in a dry oval enameled cast iron pan over a medium flame, cooked 2 or 3 minutes on each side, to medium rare, the time always dependent on thickness [being careful not to overcook, or the steak would be tough, and noting that the color of this lean meat is much more of a red than beef, meaning a medium-rare buffalo steak, which is what I prepared here, would be the same shade of an almost rare beef steak], removed from the pan, arranged on the plates, drizzled with a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic California lemon (Sespe Creek Organics), sprinkled with chopped fresh thyme from Stokes Farm, drizzled with a little olive oil, covered very loosely and allowed to rest for a couple minutes before serving
• a small amount of (semi-wild, or formerly feral?) red cress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery drizzled only with a few drops of an excellent olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Chelsea Whole Foods Market

• a large number of ‘lunchbox peppers’, a very sweet hybrid, or more likely several hybrids, from Campo Rosso Farm, among which Chris and Jessi had somehow been able to include some purple beauties, halved, the seeds and membranes removed (there were very few of either), sautéed in a little olive inside a large (13.25″), naturally-seasoned cast iron Lodge frying pan over an almost fully high flame until slightly caramelized, one sliced medium red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm added near the end, then adding some local sea salt and black pepper and stirring in some chopped za’atar [origanum syriacum] from TransGenerational Farm, the vegetables arranged on the plates, sprinkled with more of the super ‘oregano’ and drizzled with a few drops of balsamic vinegar
• the wine was a Spanish (Priorat/Montsant) red, Franck Massard Garnacha 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Mendelssohn Edition, Vol. 2: String Symphonies And Concertos’, Andreas Staier conducting Concerto Koln (the composer was between 12 and 14 years old when he wrote these works)

Early yesterday afternoon I went out to the Saturday 23rd Street Chelsea greenmarket, but only to pick up some parsley and mint. Most of the time I would go there I would get seafood, but we’d decided to play it loose with dinner arrangements. We were going to be in the Whitney Museum at least until early in the evening, so the plan was not to make a plan, since I could put a simple pasta together whenever we got home and felt hungry, or we might even decide to eat out.  Once I’d arrived down the block however, I had to check out the seafood stall, only doing it for the heck of it I thought. But then, after first checking with Barry by texting, I came home with two perfectly sized, exceptionally beautiful thick fresh tuna steaks. In fact he was pretty enthusiastic, judging from the caps he used to reply (we both love tuna), and totally okay with a slight change in plans (it’s very simple to prepare).

We’re both glad I had been flexible enough to disregard the original plan for being flexible, because we were able to enjoy just about the best tuna ever last night.

The less simple part of the meal involved the vegetable I’d chosen to cook. I had never before prepared (or, probably, even eaten) ‘bottle squash’ or lauki gourd, but I had bought one from Ashley Scott at her and her partner Nimai Gupta’s Gopal Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket the day before, and I was anxious to try it. Maybe it was because of a very recent interesting challenge with bitter melon, another vegetable often identified with India, that caused me to fret more than I really had to about how to cook it, but I ended up just treating it more or less like zucchini (I learned only halfway through my online research that, curiously, this same vegetable is very familiar in much of Italian regional cooking, where it is usually referred to as ‘Cucuzza‘).

• two thick 7-ounce tuna steaks from American Seafood Company in our neighborhood Saturday Chelsea Down to Earth Farmer’s Market, rinsed, dried, tops and bottoms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, brushed or ‘paved’ with almost 2 tablespoons of a mix of a generous amount of a really, really great dried Semi di Finocchietto Ibleo (wild Sicilian fennel seed harvested in the Iblei Mountains), from Eataly Flatiron and a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, both first crushed together in a porcelain mortar and pestle, the steaks pan-grilled above a medium-high flame for little more than a minute or so on each side inside a medium enameled cast iron grill pan and finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic Mexican lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, a scattering of chopped fresh zaatar [origanum syriacum] leaves from TransGenerational Farm and  a drizzle of Chelsea Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil
• some little (semi-wild) red cress from Dave Harris’s Max Creek Hatchery dressed with an excellent olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal), Hania, Crete, from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly ground black pepper, and a good Italian (Piedmont) white wine vinegar (Aceto Cesare Bianco, from Buon Italia)
• a young one pound ‘bottle squash’ or lakui gourd (there are many other names) from Gopal Farm, its outer skin peeled off, cut into sections lengthwise, and each of those sliced roughly 1/4″ thin, again lengthwise, placed inside a large bowl, covered generously in sea salt and some freshly ground black pepper, mixed well by hand before drizzled with olive oil and mixed again, grilled on a large 2-burner cast iron grill pan, turing once, until softened and showing grill marks, arranged on large platter, each layer scattered with torn peppermint leaves from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market
• the wine was a Portuguese (Vinho Verde) white, Vinho Verde Loureiro, Aphros 2018, from Astor Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Felix & Fanny Mendelssohn – Works for Cello and Piano’, performed by
  cellist Johannes Moser, pianist Alasdair Beatson, beautiful music, and a beautiful concept

I’m calling it summer shark, even though it was being labelled “sand shark” at the Greenmarket (it’s also called ‘dogfish’, in some places; ‘rock salmon’ in the UK, ‘saumonette’ in France, and ‘palombo’ in Italy), but whatever it’s called, it’s been impossibly delicious each time I’ve prepared it.

This time the vegetable was terrific as well. It was possibly the best grilled Japanese eggplant I’ve ever done, and that’s saying a lot, since it’s my favorite cultivar of all the ‘berries’ of the nightshade family.

Also, just when I had run out of fresh seasoning alliums, some beautiful late-August’ red spring onions’ (they’re actually available much of the season) showed up at the Greenmarket yesterday, helping to ensure the quality of the sauce I would be making for the shark.

• one long ‘summer shark’ fillet weighing one pound from Pura Vida Seafood, brought to room temperature, cut into 4 sections crosswise, dusted with some lightly-seasoned local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour, shaking off the excess, sautéed in a little over one tablespoon of olive oil inside a large heavy oval antique copper skillet above a high flame for 4 or 5 minutes on each side, or until browned, the heat then turned off while a second pan, a broad based copper pot, was heated over a low to moderate flame with another tablespoon of oil before 2 fresh finely-chopped red spring onions from Lani’s Farm were added and cooked until softened, stirring occasionally, followed by one medium salted, rinsed, and filleted Sicilian anchovy, more than a tablespoon of chopped Italian parsley from Phillips Farms, and a half cup of wine, an Oregon Pinot Gris, the heat increased and the liquid reduced almost completely before a tablespoon of fresh water was added, the sauce seasoned with a pinch of both local L.I. sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, then poured over the top of the fillet pieces, their skillet heated over a low flame for a minute or two, the fish served on the plates with a sprinkling of pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm
• three medium Japanese eggplant (12 ounces altogether), from Campo Rosso Farm, each halved lengthwise and scored into a hatch pattern with a very sharp knife, brushed all over with a mixture of a olive oil, 2 finely-chopped ‘Nootka rose’ garlic cloves from TransGenerational Farm, some super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, local sea salt and black pepper, pan-grilled inside a large cast iron ribbed pan above 2 brisk flames, turning twice, adding more of the material from the marinade the second time, a few small really delicious ‘honeydrop’ heirloom cherry tomatoes, also from TransGenerational Farm, tossed onto the grill pan just before the eggplant had been removed to the plates and heated, briefly, just enough to warm them through while still retaining their shapes, after which they were arranged strewn on top of their pan mates, both sprinkled with torn spearmint leaves from Stokes Farm and drizzled with a bit more olive oil
• the wine was a Spanish (Rías Baixas/Val do Salnés) white, Albariño “Xión”, Bodegas y Viñedos Attis 2018, from Astor Wines 

• the music was a glorious recording of Hugo von Hofmanstahl and RIchard Strauss’ ‘1909-1910 opera (“reactionary luxuriance”*, composed, amazingly, after ‘Salome’ and Elektra’), Der Rosenkavalier’, Herbert von Karajan conducting the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, with Agnes Baltsa, Anna Tomowa-Sintow, Kurt Moll, and Janet Perry

 

*the phrase appears in this 2003 article in the Independent

 

[the last image, of the Hogarth print that was von Hofmannstahl’s inspiration for the Marschallin’s levée scene in the first act, is from the National Gallery]

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